“Your several generations great-uncle studied there, something near very eight hundred years ago,”my great-aunt had shared with my sister and me with a casual wave of her hand.
“It’s all there in our library, of course. Quite boring,”she had added.
This was according to her grandfather who kept family records of such things. It was also where our father had studied. Not that it spoke well of his character.
The Chequers Inn was on High Street in Oxford. It had originally been a coaching inn for travelers to and from London, and then a meeting place for students and professors from the university.
It was a plaster and stone two-story building with meeting rooms over the tavern on the main floor. There were dark wood beams and a serving bar with fireplaces that kept it warm after the chill of the ride from the station, and had undoubtedly warmed a fair share of highwaymen lifting a pint after lifting a purse or two on the road.
I would have appreciated a bit of Old Lodge to warm myself, but ordered a cup of coffee instead. I explained that Dr. Pennington would be joining me. The man behind the bar, by the name of Alfie, nodded.
“Know ’im well. He meets regular with some of the others upstairs when he’s over from London for a lecture.”
Dr. Pennington arrived a short time later, stamping his boots at the entrance with the snow that had begun.
He was of medium height with close cropped dark hair and beard just beginning to gray about the edges. Not a particularly handsome man, he had a scholarly appearance as if his thoughts were chasing a dozen different things at one time.
Alfie greeted him with a gesture in my direction, and Dr. Pennington looked up and smiled.
He had provided information in a previous inquiry case on behalf of Mr. Brimley that had been most important. Dr. Bennett was an acquaintance as well as an associate at St. James Hospital according to Mr. Brimley, and I hoped he might be able to provide some insight into Dr. Bennett’s recent disappearance.
He greeted me with the familiarity of that past case. “A bit brisk out today,” he commented.
Brisk. Now there was a word, I thought, as my hands had just begun to thaw by way of the coffee mug.
Dr. Pennington was most congenial, not all the stuffy collegiate sort that I was most familiar with, and curious what I had been up to as he put it.
“And her ladyship?” he inquired as we exchanged pleasantries.
Was there anyone who didn’t know my great-aunt?
I assured him that she was quite well and fully recovered from the injury to her ankle.
“And how is my good friend?” he inquired of Mr. Brimley.
I assured him that he was quite well, and deeply involved with a new specimen he had acquired.
“The man is quite brilliant,” he replied. “A tragedy that he could not complete his studies. However, I admire the choice he made and his care for others.”
The barkeep served him coffee as well. He took a long sip of the steaming brew.
“I would normally have Alfie add a bit of extra warmth,” he said with obvious meaning. “However, I have a late afternoon lecture and then a meeting with the chairman of the medical school.
“Now, my dear Miss Forsythe, what has brought you to Oxford? Another inquiry case? How may I be of assistance?”
I explained the circumstances of the inquiry; Mrs. Bennett’s initial contact over a month earlier and then further concerns more recently.
“Ah, my colleague in medicine. Yes, I know Dr. Bennett from our university days. He was a full year ahead of myself. Quite exceptional actually, and very much interested in experimental techniques. He was greatly affected by the loss of a younger brother who had a commission with the military.
“The young man was severely injured in a dreadful encounter in the Sudan, as I remember. He returned while we were at university, however, was horribly scarred and maimed.”
He leaned in close. “Took his own life, unable to live with the situation. Terrible tragedy that effected Joseph deeply according to others who knew him as well.
“It was after that terrible situation that he left Oxford and went to France for a time. He studied there about certain restorative procedures for injuries such as his brother had. That seemed to motivate him. He returned to Oxford and finished his studies then began his apprenticeship.”
By everything he told me, it seemed that Dr. Bennett was successful as well as brilliant.
“Successful, yes. Quite so to all outward appearances. However, having experienced it myself, he spoke more than once that those of our profession were slow to accept new practices that were not new at all according to what he had learned while in France.”
