All about him were jars of powders and potions as he sat before the pill making machine. A smile greeted us as he swung around on the stool.
“Mr. Brodie, Miss Mikaela, it is a pleasure to see you, as always. What brings you here? A new inquiry case, perhaps?”
“Your assistance is needed,” Brodie replied.
“Is it disappearance or murder this time?” he asked with enthusiasm.
It occurred to me that amidst his working with body parts in jars along with all sorts of those who sought his services, our inquiry cases appeared to provide a welcome diversion.
Brodie explained the facts of the case, few as they were.
“And you have the young woman’s clothes?” Mr. Brimley gestured to the wrapped bundle.
“Aye,” Brodie nodded. “To see what ye might be able to tell us.”
Mr. Brimley gestured to the countertop that contained those microscopes. “Let’s have a look, then.”
He unwrapped the bundle, then spread the garments out on the counter.
“A young woman of some means,” he observed. “The small bunch of cloth flowers at the waist not usually something found on those in the East End, and the size of the garment is quite slender which suggest someone of a younger age, and it is finely made by a personal seamstress, no doubt.
“There are no obvious stains about the gown— blood or that sort of thing,” he added as he continued his inspection.
“No signs that the garment was torn, nor the other garments.” He looked up. “I would say that the young woman was not harmed in the usual way we see all too often.”
He continued to mumble comments, more to himself as he continued with his inspection. Then, “What is this?”
He peered closer at the bodice of the gown. “Some sort of residue. Yes, yes, quite; crystals or powder of some sort on the fabric.”
He set aside the magnifying glass, opened a drawer under the counter, and retrieved what appeared to be a surgical instrument. Considering the man’s expertise that I had experienced in the past, I was not surprised.
He also pulled a piece of paper from another drawer then returned to the garment on the counter and proceeded to scrape the front of the gown where he had found that residue.
“This might tell us something,” he announced.
He then moved down the counter to one of the microscopes and deposited some of the residue onto a glass slide which he then placed under the microscope lens. He turned on the attached electric light and proceeded to examine the residue.
“Yes,” he commented. “It’s possible. But to what purpose?” he said more to himself, like a scientist with his observations and questions.
“What does it tell ye?” Brodie asked.
Mr. Brimley looked up. “Oh yes, quite. Forgive me. I went off a bit there. Tell me, was there any sweet smell about the corpse?”
“The girl had been dead for some time when she was found,” Brodie replied. “There was no mention of a particular smell by those who had examined her.”
“Well, then, there are always ways,” the chemist announced. “Do you have a match, Mr. Brodie?”
A match?
Brodie and I exchanged a glance. That seemed an unusual request.
“Aye,” Brodie replied. Reaching into his pocket, he retrieved the tin of matches he usually carried. He handed it to Mr. Brimley.
“You might want to stand away,” the chemist cautioned. “If I’m correct, this could be most exciting.”
I might have chosen another word for what he was about to do as Brodie gently pulled me back a distance from the counter.
Mr. Brimley deposited the residue that he’d scraped from the front of the Amelia Mainwaring’s gown into a metal bowl.
