“They were circles of gold with a blackish background and a strange symbol stamped into them. A pair of wings at the top of a stick, they were, with two things curling around it. Like snakes.”
Julia blinked. Then she pulled out her prescription pad and pointed to the symbol at the top of a page. “Did it look like this?”
Kathleen looked up in wonder. “That’s the one. ’Tis just the same.”
“It’s called a caduceus, Kathleen. It’s an ancient medical symbol, and it’s not uncommon for physicians to wear such cuff links.”
“Think of that, now.”
Julia colored in fury and disgust.First, do no harm,she thought bitterly.The doctor’s dictum.“It was a terrible betrayal, Kathleen. I’m sorry.”
Annie dried her hands and picked up Julia’s pad. “He was a doctor, then, was he?”
“Most likely.”
Kathleen tapped her left wrist. “They had letters on them as well.”
“Can you remember them?”
“I’ll not be forgetting, ever. They had a P and an S sitting on either side of the stick.”
Julia stood. “Thank you, Kathleen. I’ll tell Inspector Tennant.”
“You’ll be off, Doctor?” Annie said.
“Yes, but I’ll see Mister Smythe on the way. He’ll want to talk to you about the arrangements before closing shop.”
“I’ll never be thanking you enough for all you’re doing.”
Julia waved away the girl’s thanks. “My Aunt Caroline and Iwill know where to go for wonderful hats.” She smiled. “She’s Lady Aldridge, as it happens, and Mister Smythe was a bit fluttered by the title.”
Julia closed the door to Annie’s basement flat and headed up the stairs.
P and S—for Doctor Preston Scott?
* * *
“The duty sergeant sent this up.” Sergeant O’Malley handed Inspector Tennant a note. “A porter brought it over from Doctor Lewis.”
Tennant scanned it. “Well, well. Kathleen Morris has given us something interesting indeed. Look at this, Sergeant.”
O’Malley read it and whistled. “The old bastard. There may be others on the medical registrar with his initials.” The sergeant screwed up his face. “I’m not remembering the man’s cuff links.”
“I do. I’d knocked something on the man’s desk. Sent a porcelain pencil dish askew, and Scott reached across to straighten it.” Tennant smiled grimly. “At the time, I thought the cuff links were a harmless affectation.”
“Harmful for him, I’m thinking, if we can get the lass’s identification.”
Tennant leaned back in his chair and contemplated the web of cracks in the ceiling plaster. “So, where are we, Paddy?”
“Two witnesses—a hatmaker and a Chinese lass—are after giving us a gammy lip, a kilt, and a set of cuff links.”
“Hmm . . . when you put it that way. Still, they link Rawlings, Mister Bruce of the Topkapi, and Doctor Scott to a forced prostitution ring. But is it enough to justify a raid on a Pall Mall gentleman’s club? Or to arrest a Harley Street physician?”
“Thin, I’m thinking. And the chief will be asking us how it leads to Franny Riley’s or Margot Miller’s killer.”
“The logic is irresistible,” Tennant said. “But is it proof?”
“And Stackpole, the creature. He’ll be wriggling out of it,claiming ignorance about the fate of the Chinese lasses. And as for Scott, I’m guessing he’s not the only Harley Street doctor with a taste for harlots. ’Tis a long way to a murder charge.”
