“I’ll do it,” Sam said, watching her as she sifted through the papers and books. “What are you doing, lass?”
“Looking to see if he left a note.”
In truth, suicide notes were rare and never gave the family closure. More often than not, the notes involved only instructions to mundane chores. But it could be useful.
Slamming a drawer shut, she sighed. “It doesn’t look like he did.”
“Maybe he left it in his home,” Sam said. “We’ll keep our peepers out.”
Kendra nodded, and let her gaze drift back to Goldsten’s body and the gun that lay a few feet away. She had to fight against another wave of nausea, and the rush of guilt that came with it.What have I done?
“Kendra,” Alec murmured, touching her arm again.
“I’m okay.” She wasn’t. But this wasn’t the time to fall apart.
She steeled her spine and followed Munroe and Sam out of the laboratory. In the ward, the handful of apprentices looked lost, baffled, and scared. Dawes, she noted, was gone. Mr. Beane had taken charge, issuing orders and hurrying from patient to patient. When he spotted them, he jogged over.
“This is dreadful, just dreadful,” he said, shaking his head. “I don’t know what to do. Andrew—Mr. Dawes and I are the senior apprentices here, but we’re still learning from Mr. Goldsten.” He swallowed and looked at Munroe. “What do I do?”
“Continue as you are,” Munroe replied. “After I’m done at Bow Street, I shall go to St. George’s and see if I can find another surgeon to offer you instruction and guidance. If no one is available, I shall do it myself.”
Relief flooded the young man’s face. “Thank you, Dr. Munroe.”
Kendra asked, “Were you here when Mr. Goldsten arrived this morning?”
“Yes. I assisted him in removing a lead ball from a patient’s leg. Nothing seemed amiss. I cannot believe he . . . he did what he did!”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“He certainly didn’t say what he planned to do!” Mr. Beane scrubbed his palms over his face. “My God. We were shocked when we heard the gunshot.”
“What did you do then?”
“What did we do? We—all of us—ran to the laboratory and . . . and saw what we did.”
“What exactly did you see?”
“Mr. Goldsten on the floor. Andrew was down beside him. He was shaking, crying. He said . . . he said that he tried to stop him. It was awful.” Mr. Beane blinked, then glanced away for a long moment.
“It was all so normal,” he whispered on a ragged breath. He brought his gaze back to them, the expression in them dark and shattered. “I swear everything was normal . . . until it wasn’t.”
Chapter 34
“You are not responsible for Mr. Goldsten’s death,” Alec said quietly as he walked Kendra to the carriage.
“Aren’t I?” Her throat burned. She lifted her face to the sunshine, but felt cold.So cold. “I saw his desperation, but I kept pushing him.Exitus acta probat.” Her lips twisted in a humorless smile as she met her husband’s eyes. “I didn’t care about Mr. Goldsten’s state of mind, even when he tried to tell me how difficult this would be for him.”
Alec took her hand and squeezed it. “You weren’t trying to satisfy your own morbid curiosity, Kendra. You’re trying to identify a fiend who has killed at least three people. Maybe more, with these experiments.”
“I know what it’s like to be an outsider, Alec. To be watched and to worry that everything you’ve worked for might be taken away.”
His green eyes were cool as he regarded her. “And what would you do if someone threatened to take it away?”
She frowned. “I don’t know.”
“Iknow. You would have fought. You certainly wouldn’t have looked the other way while someone was harming people in order to preserve your bloody reputation. You’re not a stupid woman, so, pray, don’t act like one.”
Kendra sucked in a sharp breath. “Wow.” She tried to remove her hand from his, but he only tightened his hold. She glared at him. “Thanks for beingsounderstanding.”
