“Yes, but we prepared a believable story of her being recently diagnosed with cancer.”
He should never have doubted her. “Hmmm. Dr. Thorne must be quite observant if she managed to see through that.”
“I wonder if she didn’t think Aunt Margaret sounded desperate enough. At any rate, I would describe the doctor as intelligent but cold. I don’t think empathy is one of her strengths.”
“Probably a good thing since she’s starving patients and giving prolonged enemas.”
Amelia laughed, making Henry chuckle, though the movement hurt his ribs. To his surprise, the pressure in his head lifted slightly. Perhaps he’d allowed worry to get the best of him.
“That is an excellent point,” Amelia said with a shiver. “I can easily imagine a patient begging for food or...an end to their treatment, and Dr. Thorne denying them.”
“Kindness is apparently not one of her traits either,” Henry suggested, running his thumb over the soft skin of her hand, the touch settling him as little else could.
“Most definitely not. There was a diploma or certificate or something framed on her wall, but I couldn’t read it. She told Aunt Margaret she trained at several schools, and her treatments were a result of the success of healing her own health issues.”
Nothing they did not already know, then. A pity. “Interesting. I look forward to asking her a few questions of my own.”
Amelia cleared her throat and looked at him beneath her lashes, her guilty expression causing him to brace himself.
“What is it?”
“I did…well, manage to look at a patient file while I was there.”
“How?” He was almost as interested in that answer as he was in what she might’ve seen.
“I found an office, complete with two desks and filing cabinets and a few files, while searching for the water closet.” Therewas something glinting in her eyes. A bit of pride perhaps? “In truth I was hoping for a glimpse of Miss Elmcroft so I could make sure she was well, but finding the patient file was interesting.”
He hid a smile at that. Amelia truly was clever, but now wasn’t the time to say as much when it would only encourage her. “And?”
“They keep detailed records of treatments based on what I saw. The odd thing was that one particular patient had a ‘final’ treatment listed in his file.” Her gaze met his. “He died the next day.”
Henry considered the possible reasons. “Perhaps the notation was made after his death.”
“His record said he had cancer, so I suppose that could be the case.” Yet she sounded less than convinced.
“Do you remember the patient’s name?”
“Walter. Walter Dunn.”
Henry’s brows lifted. “That is interesting. His nephew is the reason we were able to open the investigation into the sanatorium. He has doubts, too, about the place.”
“Oh, dear. Well, the file didn’t say what the treatment was—at least, not that I saw in my limited review. I only had a brief moment to glance at it before I was interrupted.”
Henry decided against asking for details about what the interruption involved. It would have to wait until he felt more like himself.
“I can’t believe they’d deliberately harm patients.” She worried her bottom lip as she considered the statement. “Why would they? To what end?”
They’d discussed this before, but were unable to draw any conclusions. “Money would be the most likely motivator.”
Which would mean Mr. Dunn’s nephew might be right to question the situation, Henry decided. Why would the late Mr. Dunn choose to change his will to begin with? It seemed unlikely he’d have deep gratitude for what the sanatorium had done for him.
“How often it comes to that.” Amelia shook her head.
It wouldn’t be easy to prove the victim had been under duress to sign the documents changing his will, but surely they could discover whether he’d died from disease or some other cause?
All the more reason Henry needed to return to work.
A knock at his door drew their attention, and they both turned to look as Henry’s mother opened it. “I wanted to invite Mrs. Greystone for dinner this evening.” She glanced at Henry. “And ask if you feel up to venturing downstairs.”
