Her housekeeper served tea, then was politely excused, the doors to the parlor closed.
Helen Bennett set her cup down. The only outward sign of emotion was in the faint trembling of her hands as she tightly folded them.
“Dr. Bennett has not returned at all since last we spoke,” she informed me in a lowered voice.
That was two days earlier. Prior to that, he returned often late of the night with no explanation to his wife. And now, he had not returned at all.
“Has there been any communication from him?” I asked. “Anything that he might have mentioned the last time, perhaps regarding some matter that would keep him away for a length of time?”
She shook her head. “I sent round a message to his office at the hospital and was informed that they had not heard from him. His assistant assured me that they would let me know if they had word.”
I then asked questions I had previously asked, having discovered in the past that one might often forget some small detail in the midst of a trying situation. It was often something that might seem unimportant at the time, but might offer a clue about a person’s thoughts or actions.
While I was somewhat a student of people’s manners and expressions, it was Brodie who had taught me the importance of a somewhat nervous gesture or a distracted gaze from his work with the Met and years spent on the streets of London. Quite invaluable in our inquiry cases.
It was a sad fact that people often lied or completely denied knowing anything about a situation, often to protect themselves. But those small movements, even something as insignificant as a twitch, or a glance away often betrayed the lie.
“What about something he might have said, perhaps an off-hand remark, or possibly a change in his manner? Anything that might have seemed different.
“Was he perhaps impatient with the servants? Or short-tempered over something?”
She appeared to think back over that last night when he had returned.
“There was something… however, I had seen it before and thought nothing of it at the time.”
“Anything at all might be useful,” I replied.
“I don’t usually question him about his work at the hospital, however with everything the past two months… And then he left again that same evening and didn’t return.”
There was a trembling in her voice as she seemed to gather herself.
“I asked him if it was some matter at the hospital,” she replied. “That seemed the most likely situation…”
Other than the possibility that he was meeting someone— a woman perhaps?
“He became very angry, and that is not like him at all. Joseph is a very reserved, quiet man. I’ve never known him to become angry with anyone…”
But he had that last night.
“He said that it was not my place to question him. He has never said anything like that to me before. He was most agitated.”
“Did he offer any explanation?”
“He said it was nothing for me to be concerned about. Then, he left and didn’t return.”
She described him as a reserved, quiet man, who became angry at a simple question, his manner quite unusual. Then commented that it was nothing for her to be concerned about.
The question was— why the uncharacteristic outburst? Because he didn’t want her asking more questions that he either didn’t care to or wasn’t prepared to answer? If so, for what reason?
Was it an affair as Helen Bennett had initially suspected? Or was it something else? Something that he didn’t want her to know anything about?
“What about any communication he might have made that last evening from here?” I then asked. “Perhaps a telephone conversation? Or some message he received that might have upset him?”
Once again, Helen Bennett shook her head.
“There was nothing.”
Her voice trailed off in a whisper that conveyed so much— uncertainty, doubt, desperation. I felt all of those emotions for her. I could only imagine if the circumstances were my own and Brodie’s.
