I was not unfamiliar with libraries. Lady Antonia had a private library at Sussex Square in London, and I had visited the London Library on more than one occasion with Mikaela Forsythe.
While this was much smaller, the room no larger than a formal parlour, the number of books on the shelves behind the desk and on the adjacent wall was still impressive.
There were leather-bound books with various titles regarding the law, as was to be expected. Along with a full shelfthat contained Greek and Roman texts, I discovered, as I pulled one from the shelf and read the title on the spine.
Ancient Law by Sir Henry Sumner Maine,and another,The Influence of the Roman Law on the Law of England by Sir Thomas Scrutton.Along with a dozen more shelves filled with leather-bound books.
Sir McQuarrie certainly appeared to be well-read. I returned both books to the shelf, then went to the table that sat across from the desk. It contained a tablet of paper and an ink pen on a stand of carved wood with a marble base. For making notes of his own, no doubt, perhaps regarding a case for a client.
I set my bag on the table and began as I had seen Mikaela and Mr. Brodie do when undertaking a new inquiry case. Yet I would have been lying to myself if I didn’t admit that what I was determined to do was daunting.
I took out my notebook and pen and began with my arrival in Edinburgh and finding Dory’s body. I paused, the memory of that crowding in, vivid and heart-wrenching, then forced myself past it. It did no one any good to linger on that sad discovery, least of all my friend, nor did it resolve the mystery of what had happened.
Some things I had barely given a thought to in the past three days were added to the list—meeting Inspector Landry, being put up at his sister’s flat, conversations with Sir McQuarrie.
Anything that might be helpful, including my return to Dory’s room, the letters I had retrieved, and today’s visit to the police morgue. My hand paused over that last item…another piece of information added to the growing list.
I then continued with what the police surgeon had revealed about his findings upon his examination of Dory’s body. In addition, Inspector Landry had assured that I would be able to see the surgeon’s report once it was received by the Inspector’s office.
It was not that I wasn’t aware Munro was there. He was now part of it all with his declaration that he would not be returning to London. Much like an unwanted nanny, I thought earlier. Admittedly, a bit of temper on my part.
Dory wasmyfriend. I felt responsible for what had happened, even though I did understand that at present there was no way of knowing what had led to her murder.
I was not foolish. I had lived in a brothel years before. I knew what happened in places like that, the dangers the ladies faced from an unhappy ‘customer’ or one who’d had too much of the drink. It was a dark and dangerous existence that few escaped.
I was not naive to the fact that I was most fortunate to have been one who had. Yet my friendship with Dory had remained. She had been someone who cared about me and had helped me escape.
“There is something ye should know about the woman’s death that could be important,” Munro commented now, breaking the silence in the library except for my scratchings in my notebook.
I was not completely resigned to his announcement that he would be remaining in Edinburgh. Still, there was that nagging voice that whispered,‘you cannot do this alone.’
I looked up and frowned at that direct gaze and that frown, as if I was still the child he had first known who had committed some offence. I pushed back the desire to ignore him and his judgment. I was not a child and refused to be treated like one.
“What might that be?” I stiffly inquired and inwardly cringed at the harshness in my voice.
Possibly not the best way to begin, I reminded myself, and was put off by that realization.
“There are two things that could be important.”
It was just like him to dangle something to get my attention. However, he did have my attention. He had experience in certain things from his time on the streets. I needed that experience.
“Two things?”
“The surgeon made no mention of it,” he began as if he had not noticed my sharpness. “Nor Inspector Landry, if he made notice of it.”
He came away from that wall of tall windows across from the desk, his expression softened.
“The person who murdered yer friend was not a large person, nor tall. By the bruises on her hands and arms, she fought back. If not for the blade that was used, she verra likely would have fought off her attacker.”
I slowly set the pen down on the table, thoughtful. “You said there were two things.”
“Aye, the second is the wound. It will often tell ye a great deal if ye know what to look for.”
“Go on.”
“It was made from the right to the left as her attacker bent over her.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
