They had met some months before at a charity event for war wounded who had returned from India. After Captain Mathison was released from medical, he had contacted Amelia and they had discreetly met several times even as arrangements were made for Amelia to marry someone else.
It was complicated and not all that unusual. As the second son from a prominent family, Captain Mathison had chosen a military career, an honorable enough choice but hardly one that was acceptable to Sir John Mainwaring for his daughter.
Still, Amelia and Captain Mathison continued to meet, and he had proposed. With the formal announcement of her betrothal to another to be made at the holiday season and Captain Mathison soon to return to India, they planned to wed in secret and then leave together. Amelia was to meet him the night she disappeared.
“I have the original note…” Beatrice explained.
I accompanied her to her rooms where she gave me the note in question. There I noticed a photograph very similar to the one in Amelia Mainwaring’s room.
“We belonged to the same club,” she explained. “That photograph was taken the year before. I had a nasty cold at the time and couldn’t attend.
“It was taken by Mr. Paul Laughton, photographer to the Queen. Amelia had it made for me. I didn’t know that it would be the last photograph of her,” she added through more tears.
We took our leave shortly after. Beatrice reached out and took my hand.
“You will find who did this?”
I had assured her that we would.
* * *
“We need to meet with Captain Mathison,” Brodie said, breaking the somber silence inside the coach upon leaving. “He must be told. And he may be able to provide information that could be useful.”
I could only imagine the man must be quite beside himself since Amelia had not met him as arranged, and now to learn that she was dead?
“Of course,” I replied.
It would be far too cruel to learn what had happened from the newspapers. And there were questions Brodie wanted to ask with a natural suspicion of everyone until a case was finally resolved.
It was not often that I had second thoughts about the inquiries we made. Most often the outcome far outweighed any difficulty— a child found, a murder solved that brought solace to a grieving family, a criminal at last made to account for what he had done. But that was not the present situation.
I could only feel a deep sadness for the news we would take to Captain Mathison, that he would carry back with him to India as he returned to his duties there.
“I can call on him alone if ye want to remain at the office,” Brodie said then, his hand covering mine.
He seemed to sense my thoughts. It wasn’t the first time.
With anyone else I would have replied that they were being ridiculous and then told them to sod off. But this was Brodie.
I curled my hand into his warm one, and shook my head.
* * *
The Mathison family lived in Hampstead. However in making several inquiries, Brodie was able to learn that after leaving medical care, Captain Mathison had taken up temporary lodging at the private residence of an old schoolmate near Park Lane before returning to India.
Now, Captain Mathison leaned heavily on his cane as he stared out at the street beyond the windows of the formal parlor. He had been formally released from Netley Hospital a few weeks earlier, the site where military wounded were treated.
He was tall, slender, with neatly trimmed brown hair and a brown mustache, and dressed in the formal uniform of the Royal Fusiliers. He cut a dashing figure in spite of the pallor on his face, no doubt from the prolonged hospital stay. I could see how a young woman might be taken with him.
His manner upon our arrival had been curious at first, as Brodie had not gone into details in the note he sent round. Then there was shock and disbelief. I had feared the man might suffer a relapse of some sort, but as they say, he hadsoldiered on.
“I made inquiries every place I could think where she might have gone, except with the family, of course, not wanting to alarm them or betray anything if…” he explained haltingly, then continued, “if she perhaps had a change of heart.
“I was aware of her parents’ choice for a match,” he added. “Certainly not a soldier or a military posting to some place far away. However, she was excited and most determined to set off and live our own life together. I admired that about her.
“When there was no word, I had determined to send round a note. If she had changed her mind, she might at least respond.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering himself.
“She was so looking forward to traveling to India…”
