A pair of harried nurses moved from one sick patient to the next. The more senior of them snapped, “Admittance window,” in answer to Tennant’s request for information. He showed his warrant card to the porter on duty, who released an unseen catch, and the adjacent door popped open.
“This way, guv.” The porter led them down a short hallway and opened the door to a waiting room.
Susan and Princess Louise looked like they’d exited a battlefield or a butcher’s shop. Blood stained the skirts of their gowns. Two pairs of gory gloves sat crumpled and discarded on a table, curling and hardening in the cold room. Someone had given them blankets. Susan stood; it slipped from her shoulders, uncovering her bloodied sleeves.
“My dear.” When Dermott took her hands, Tennant noticed rusty stains around her fingernails. Lionel seated her again, replacing the blanket around her shoulders, and bowed to the princess.
“The surgeon is with Harriet,” Princess Louise said.
“A parkkeeper and a constable carried her to a hackney,” Susan said. “The princess knew what to do, and we did our best.”
“Padding and pressure on the wound,” Louise said. “I’ve seen the doctors attend to my brother, Leopold, who bleeds easily. The parkkeeper had a knife, so we cut strips from our underskirts and took turns.”
“Mrs. FitzGerald owes her chances to your quick thinking, Princess,” Tennant said. “Now, tell me what happened at the park. First, did you see the shooter?”
“No,” Susan said. “The shot came from a distance as the four of us reached the intersecting paths at the park’s center.”
“Four of you?”
“Mrs. Locock was with us. And her baby,” Susan said. “We sent her home.”
Tennant said, “Will you describe how you arranged yourselves as you walked?”
“I’ll show you if you have a paper and pencil,” Princess Louise said.
“Sergeant?”
O’Malley handed the princess his notepad and pencil. With confident strokes, she sketched four women walking in pairs, one pushing a baby carriage. Louise had labeled the figures, but he recognized Lady Styles and the princess even in her rough drawing.
“Thank you, Your Royal Highness. Could either of you tell from what direction the shot came?”
“I’m not sure.” Susan looked at the princess, who shook her head. “Except …”
“What is it, Lady Styles?” Tennant said. “Even an impression may be helpful.”
“I’d just commented on some birds singing in a grove. They were to the left of the paths’ intersection on the Buckingham Palace side of the park. The shot sent them flying in all directions.”
“Was that your impression as well, Princess?”
“I’d just bent over the baby carriage at that instant, so I’m unsure.”
Tennant glanced at the sketch. He looked up and saw Lady Styles’s startled expression.She’s just realized Louise may have been the target, not Harriet.
“Sergeant O’Malley, give the divisional inspector my compliments and ask him to assign some constables to search that grove immediately.”
A nurse entered as O’Malley exited. “Sir Godfrey is leaving the operating theater for his office.”
“And Harriet?” Dermott asked.
“Stable. Are you the lady’s husband?”
“No,” Sir Lionel said. “He’s at Windsor. The Home Office informed him by telegram.”
“I see,” the nurse said. “If you gentlemen will follow me?”
Tennant and Dermott found the blood-spattered surgeon in his office. Sir Godfrey Fellows turned his back to the nurse, and she slid a gore-encrusted frock coat off his shoulders and hung it on a peg behind his door. Then she helped him shrug into a pristine one.
He adjusted his cuffs and said, “The bullet went through her chest well above the heart and toward the shoulder, exiting her back. It nicked no major arteries but did its damage all the same.”
