“The milkman’s body may tell us something. But given the state of this charred corpse, there’s probably little it will reveal. Still, I’ll do my best.”
“I know you will. And like Sir Lionel, I wish the same were true about others.” Tennant sighed. “That includes Sir Richard, but I’d say that to no one else.”
Julia knew Tennant’s loyalty and affection for his godfather ran deep. She touched his sleeve. “I’ll speak to Lady Styles and meet you at the mortuary.”
When Julia approached the bench, Sir Lionel uncrossed his long legs and got to his feet, offering the doctor his seat.
Julia nodded her thanks and sat next to Lady Styles. “How is Princess Alexandra?”
“Shaken. Appalled. Her windows overlook the garden. The man’s screams woke her, and she saw the full horror. But the prince asked us not to mention the paraffin under the door. At least, not yet.”
“And His Royal Highness?” Julia said.
Lady Styles looked at Dermott. “You were with him a little while ago.”
“I’ve never seen him this furious,” he said. “Bertie is a man who gives in to his appetites, but he controls his temper admirably. He has his provocations, God knows. Usually, only the absurd Scotsman, Brown, gets a rise out of him.”
Julia asked, “Has the press gotten wind of this?”
“It was a small kitchen fire, quickly extinguished,” Dermott said. “That’s the folderol we’ll peddle to the press.”
Sir Lionel turned at the sound of hooves scattering gravel. A horseman trotted up the Marlborough’s carriageway. He jumped from the saddle, tossed his reins to a footman, and dashed up the steps.
“The knight errant has arrived to console his princess,” Sir Lionel said. “And on a white steed, no less.”
Julia asked, “That gentleman is … ?”
“Captain Oliver Montgomery,” Lady Styles said. “He is an equerry to the prince.”
“And a slave to the princess.” Dermott’s mobile features flickered in amusement.
“Don’t mock, Lionel,” Susan said.
“Indeed, I don’t.” He turned to Julia. “Doctor, I am in aweof Ollie’s devotion. Truly. But alas, I would find his romantic self-sacrifice from afar quite … ah …unsatisfying.”
He accompanied the drawn-out word with a crooked smile, arched eyebrows, and a music-hall leer that telegraphed his meaning. Julia looked at Lady Styles, and they laughed.
“That’s the spirit.” He took each of their hands and kissed them in turn. “A doctor and a widow-lady. Absurd to be missish.” Then he trotted along the path to Marlborough Road, waving his gloves behind him.
“Sir Lionel is an acquired taste,” Lady Styles said.
“Inspector Tennant said something of the sort.”
“I’m happy to see you, Doctor, despite … but perhaps this isn’t the time to ask a favor.”
“What can I do?”
“I’d planned to write to you today with a request. Princess Louise wishes to visit your clinic if she may. On some suitable day, of course.”
Julia smiled wryly. “Planning an appropriate day at Whitechapel Clinic is tricky. One must forge ahead and hope for the best. So, any day that suits the princess.”
“Is tomorrow morning too soon? A visit would be a welcome distraction. That’s not the right word. It’s not a whim on her part. You’ll find that Princess Louise has a keen interest in medicine.”
“A diversion after this horror isn’t a bad thing.”
“And you wrote to me, asking about Lizzie Dowling’s employment. Princess Louise will tell you what she remembers. I questioned the housekeeper at Osborne over Christmas, but I’m afraid she wasn’t much help. She arrived several years after the girl first arrived.”
“Let’s say tomorrow at eleven?” Julia stood and offered her hand. “The police wagon is here, so I must go.”
