I had made my usual notes regarding our meeting with Sir John while at Sussex Square, and was most anxious to learn when we might be able to meet with their family physician regarding Miss Mainwaring’s death.
I had spoken with Brodie by telephone earlier.
“Is all well with her ladyship?” he now inquired as he was most familiar with my aunt’s peculiarities and eccentricities.
“If one considers planning for the event as if the Queen was to be in attendance,” I replied. “And she’s asked Templeton to participate as well.”
He looked up then. “I’m almost afraid to ask.”
“She’s enlisted Templeton to do card readings for guests.” I didn’t mention the Ouija board, as he had a dislike for such things.
“Does that include Mr. Shakespeare?” he asked.
With anyone else that might have seemed an odd question, however in our association he had learned a great deal about my friend, Theodora Templeton, well known actress of the London stage and throughout the world who claimed to communicate with the spirit of Sir William.
Not that anything might be proven other than the occasional bit of information she was able to provide in the course of more than one investigation that had proven to be quite accurate.
Brodie was more than doubtful of her ability in that regard while I left the possibility open. Still, he was tolerant of her eccentricities, perhaps out of his friendship with Munro, a fellow Scot, who seemed to have fallen under Templeton’s spell. Or quite possibly it was the other way around.
Our meeting with Dr. Fielding was to be at ten o’clock that morning at the morgue at St. Thomas hospital where Amelia’s body had been taken.
“What about meeting with Mr. Brimley regarding the note paper?” I asked. “It might be able to tell us something about Miss Mainwaring’s whereabouts before she was found in the park.”
“When we’ve concluded our meeting with the physician,” Brodie replied.
The bell at the landing sounded most insistently then, a device installed by Mr. Cavendish to let us know when a coachman or cab had arrived.
“I’ll make my notes on the board when we return.”
“Aye,” was the only response from Brodie as he seized his umbrella from the stand and followed me from the office.
Mr. Cavendish greeted us with a smile. “Good day, Miss Forsythe, Mr. Brodie.”
He looked quite dapper, much like a doorman at a hotel in a top hat and red wool coat with gold epaulettes, coattails tucked under on the platform where he sat. I could only wonder where he might have acquired the garments. His usual costume was cast-off pants and shirt, woolen scarf and patched jacket, with a cap. Rupert the hound sat beside him, tail thumping on the sidewalk in greeting.
“Mind you now,” Mr. Cavendish added. “There’s a chance of an encounter with all sorts of ghosts and goblins out and about this time o’ the year.”
* * *
The morgue where Dr. Fielding had arranged for Amelia Mainwaring’s body to be taken was across the Thames from Westminster, St. Thomas Hospital in Lambeth, where he was also a professor of medicine.
He had agreed to meet Brodie at the Lambeth Road entrance located at the back of the hospital.
Brodie announced our arrival to a clerk and Dr. Fielding promptly arrived.
“Yes, I was informed that a lady might accompany you,” he commented, his gaze meeting mine briefly. Did I see a vague annoyance there?
“Not what one usually expects in such circumstances. If you would prefer to wait here, Miss Forsythe?” he suggested.
“Not at all,” I replied. It was not the first time I had encountered that sort of response.
“Very well,” he stiffly replied and then escorted us to the private room.
The business of death is never pleasant, most particularly when murder is involved. There was a cold, brutal aspect that was impossible to ignore, the complete disregard for human life, the taking of something often in a most brutal way. And sadness, most particularly when it was a child or a young woman, both too often victims.
Even though I had viewed dead bodies before, I was reminded that one could never be fully prepared for it. It seemed there was always some startling aspect to viewing a body.
I had discovered that during my very first inquiry case with Brodie. At the time, the body was that of my sister’s maid, Mary Ryan, who had disappeared with her.
