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Authors: Catherine Winchester

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“I will.”
He rang the bell to summon the nurse back, so she could sit with his father until the doctor arrived.

***

Cole convinced Selena’s lady’s maid not to say anything to her until she was dressed for the day, so it was gone 10 o’clock by the time she came out onto the landing to fetch him.

His step-mother’s room was relatively remote, down the hall from his father’s room an
d although there were other bedrooms in this wing, they were unused.

Lord Copley
and Reverend Wattle were waiting in a room opposite and as soon as they heard he and Selena leave, he would slip into the room and begin searching. Copley had pointed out that if anything was discovered, they would need an independent witness, otherwise Selena could say that Copley had planted it. The Reverend had been alerted to the death by the doctor and his intent had been to offer comfort to the family. Instead he found himself acting as impartial witness, although he didn’t seem at all averse to searching a lady’s room and had needed little convincing.

Cole knocked
, and entered Selena’s dressing room when bid. She sat before her dressing table, applying perfume and she appeared completely normal, unburdened by guilt and he questioned his assumption of blame. Still, the search of her room could only prove her guilt if she was guilty, so he would stick to his plan.

“What’s wrong?” she asked as she glimpsed his reflection in the mirror, turning to face him.

He wasn’t surprised, he knew he looked awful.

“I am sorry to have to tell you, father passed away in the night.”

“Oh!” her hand covered her mouth. “Oh no. I-”

Cole had rehearsed what he needed to say many times.

“I know although not wholly unexpected, this is a big shock for you, but there are things that must be dealt with. I wanted to accompany you however, as you tell your daughters, and after that, we need to find out if he left a Will. I have sent word to his lawyer and I expect him here soon but obviously, if you are not well enough, I will see him alone.”

She turned away and brought her
handkerchief to her eyes and although she sobbed, he could see no tears.

“Come, We’ll stop by F
ather’s sitting room and get you a fortifying brandy first.”

“Yes, yes, that’s a very good idea.”

He was solicitous but not overly familiar, knowing that if he showed too much concern, she would suspect something.

“The doctor has
been and gone,” he explained as they left the room, primarily so Copley could hear them as they passed. “He assures me that he suffered no pain, and Father’s nurse says that he passed in his sleep. I know it is small comfort but it is a comfort, nonetheless.”

“Yes… I knew he was unwell, but I am surprised by this.

“I know what you mean, he was an indomitable figure, one that it was hard to picture giving into illness, even a severe one.”

“Yes, you understand.” She favoured Cole with a watery smile.

He opened the door to his father’s room
s and glancing into the hall as he closed it, saw Copley and the Reverend enter the hallway.

“I know this is difficult,” he said as he poured her a drink. “We can wait as long as you wish before visiting Sylvia and Maria. I can also ha
ve a servant summon Mrs Dale, if you would like me to.”

She accepted the large glass of whisky.

“No, not yet. Soon perhaps, but I need a few moments to gather my thoughts first.”

“I understand.” Cole smiled.
“Take as long as you need.”

***

“I really do not feel comfortable doing this,” Reverend Wattle said, although he was watching Lord Copley’s actions with interest.

“I know, but at least you are here to make sure nothing untoward happens,” Copley was beginning to tire of these protestations. He was going through the shelf of books, opening
each and checking for letters or other correspondence.

“Oh, what’s that?” The R
everend lifted a monocle to his eye and peered along the shelf.

“What is what?”
Copley asked.

“These books, they are all
standing a little proud of the wall.”

He was right, and Copley
removed all the books from the shelf and stacked them on the floor. Behind an end book, sat a small glass bottle with a label that read ‘POISON. Granules of Arsenious Acid’. Copley pulled it out to see that it was only about one quarter full.

“Well, I wo
uld say that was fairly damning,” The Reverend sounded extremely pleased with himself.

“Indeed. Can I leave this in
your care for the time being?”

“Oh, uh, is there any reason?”

“I haven’t finished searching.”

“But we ha
ve found the poison, what more do we need?”

“There could be anything, incriminating correspondence, a receipt for the purchase of the poison, perhaps evidence of what she gave him the arsenic in.
But don’t worry, Reverend, I have already searched most places, so we will not be much longer.”

He resumed looking through the books and was rewarded with a series of
love letters, hidden in the Holy Bible.

“Shocking!” Reverend Wattle declared
. “To keep such vulgarity in the holy book!”

“We have uncovered evidence that she poisoned her husband,” Copley tried very hard no
t to roll his eyes. “I hardly think blasphemy is going to trouble such a woman.”

“No, no, of course
, you are right.”

“They mention no names,” Copley said, taking a quick look through. “Each letter is signed with only an X and none are dated. Perhaps we can match handwriting but of course,
without a date she could say these predate her marriage.”

“Do you know who sent them?”

“I have my suspicions. In fact, we’re searching his room next.”

Copley smiled w
hen the Reverend didn’t complain, with any luck, he would stop moaning altogether.

***

“And this is definitive, is it?” Dr Kerridge asked, examining the silvery-black residue in the glass tubes.

“Almost.
Antimony can give a false positive but it will dissolve in sodium hypochlorite.” She sealed one end of a tube with a bung then used a pipette to add some of the chemical in to it, then she swirled it around. “Definitely arsenic,” she declared when the residue didn’t dissolve.

“So what happens now?”

“You will have to keep these tubes for the trial and we will have to get a copy of the films, made using known amounts of arsenic, for comparison purposes.”


So we can determine how much poison he was given from the darkness of the stain?”

“Exactly. If memory serves, I would say this is
equivalent to around two to three ounces. Obviously that is spread out over time, but it’s enough to kill three grown men.”

Dr
Kerridge let out a whistle of appreciation. “He didn’t stand a chance, did he?”

“Sadly, no. Even if we had discovered this much sooner, he might well have died from what he had already ingested. Somebody definitely wanted him dead.”

“I suppose I should send word to Lord McAllister.”

“The magistrate doesn’t seem very intent on seeing justice done.”

“He’s a relic from another time,” Dr Kerridge admitted. “He believes that I have sullied my family name by becoming a physician.”

“He does?
Kerridge? Are you a member of the Somerset Kerridges?”

“I am, the third son, so no title or inheritance for me, so I decided on medicine.
McAllister however, believes the only respectable professions are the clergy or as a last resort, the law.”

“If we do go to him, are we likely to see justice done?”

“That rather depends on who the killer is. If it is a noble or a member of an aristocratic family, he will likely do everything in his power to derail the prosecution.”

Thea sighed, wondering how she could see justice done in this case, assuming they discovered proof.

“Lord Grady is a magistrate.” Kerridge reminded her.

“Can he issue an arrest warrant?”

“I don’t know, but the local constables will answer to him and make an arrest at his behest.”

“That is an excellent plan, Doctor. Thank you.”

“You are most welcome, my dear.”


And thank you for your help this morning, Sir, I couldn’t have done this without you.”

“Thank you for your visit, you have both educated me and reignited my interest in medicine. Suffice to say that after practicing for nigh on twenty years now, my enthusiasm had dulled a little.”

“I’m glad. You’ve been extremely helpful to me as well.”

“Then it is truly a mutually benef
icial arrangement.” He smiled.


Now I should probably get back to the Abbey. When dealing with the wonders of science, it’s sometimes easy to forget that real people have been hurt, and that their loved ones are grieving and are in need of answers.”

“Of course. Cole is very lucky to have found a woman such as yourself. I do hope he realises it.”

“I think so,” she blushed. “But I consider myself the lucky one.”

***

Back at Locke Abbey, Cole was nowhere to be found and Thea was reduced to looking into all the public rooms in the hopes of finding him. She found her father, who disclosed the results of the searches, and informed her with some glee, that the psychic had left.

He
didn’t know where Cole was unfortunately, so she headed to the school rooms in the hopes of finding him with his sisters. She paused on her way as the sound of voices reached her and she realised that she heard the younger members of their group rehearsing their play.

She
continued on without checking to see if Cole was with them, unwilling to risk being badgered again.

When she reached it, the school room was devoid of children and Cole, but the governess was there and she looked up from her book as Thea entered.

“Can I help you?” She raised a haughty eyebrow.

“I was looking for Cole
, I mean, Master William, well, Mr Cole now. Have you seen him?”

“He came and visited the
children with their mother this morning to break the awful news. He returned a little while later and practically kidnapped the children. He didn’t tell me where he took them or when to expect them back.” Her snippy tone said that she was clearly quite upset with his behaviour.

“Everyone has had a shock, Mrs
Cutler, perhaps compassion would be a better emotion to express to the girls, rather than judgement.”

“Children need a stable routine, now more than ever.”

“Why?”

“Pardon?”

“I asked why children need a stable routine?”

“Because children are better behaved when they know what is expected of them.”

“So it makes things easier for you, not them,” Thea surmised.

“Routine is comforting,” Mrs Cutler insisted.

“Routine is stifling to a creative mind.”

“Children learn better in a structured environment.”

“If that were true, your knowledge would surpass mine, and I would be willing to wager that it doesn’t.”

“I speak three languages!”
The governess argued.

“Is one of those English?”

“Yes.”

“And the others Latin and French?”

“Yes.”

“I speak five languages fluent
ly, not including English, and I speak a further seven to a lesser degree.”

“I had the best tutors money can buy!”

“Then that is the difference, my education was not purchased. I was taught to enjoy learning, to invest my time and passion in the things that interested me. When I was upset, I was comforted, when I was successful, I was rewarded, and when I was struggling, I was encouraged. My education was shaped around my needs, not my governess’. It is my hope that Sylvia and Marie’s tutors will instil them with a love of learning, rather than presenting it as a chore. I hope you will remember that in the days to come.”

“Master Cole is master of this house, not you, no matter how much public cavorting you do with him.”

“Cole has asked me to marry him so one day very soon, I
will
be mistress of this house. I was telling you this partly because I don’t want the children upset any more than they already are, but also as a friendly warning to you. I am a proponent for progress, in all things, including education.” She curtseyed. “Thank you for your…
help
.”

She turned and left before
she could say anything worse.

Chapter
Sixteen

The rest of the day passed slowly and eventually, Thea gave up looking for Col
e and his sisters. Wherever they were, it was clearly somewhere she didn’t know about.

She thought it likely that he was somewhere in the grounds with them but the estate was
far too vast for her to attempt to loo
k
for them.

Copley left Mrs Cole
’s room as he had found it, with the books standing slightly proud of the wall, even though he retained the poison bottle and letters. The presence of a servant would also keep her from checking on the arsenic hidden behind the books.

She was being watched closely however, with housemaid Ella assigned to stay with Mrs Cole and see to her every need. In truth, she was there to tell the butler if anything untoward or unusual should happen.
None of the guests questioned it too much, believing she was voluntarily confined because of her grief. A few people wanted to visit her but telling them that Mrs Cole wanted peace and privacy, they easily capitulated.

Cole returned early evening with the girls, having spent the day exhausting them both in the hope that they would be distracted from their father’s death
, and their lethargy would ensure a deep and restful sleep.

Thea thought that was
an incredibly kind thing to do, and told him as much as they headed downstairs once dressed, for dinner.

They were eating
slightly later this evening, on account of the play being performed beforehand.

“Are you all right?” Thea asked as they entered th
e ballroom and took their seats (at the back, furthest away from the ‘stage’).

“I’m fine,” he assured her.

“You don’t have to watch this, or attend dinner if you would rather not.”

“I know.
I want to be here,” he assured her. “I need the distraction.”

Thea reached out and took his hand.

Even though she wasn’t fond of the play, she did enjoy the abridged performance, and she had to admit that Michael Reynolds had a talent for acting, although the other performers left a lot to be desired.

As it was nearing the end of the final act, Thea suddenly had that eureka moment that Cole had spoken about once.

“Oh,” she gasped, then swiftly stood up. “OH!”

The enti
re audience and makeshift acting company turned to her.

“She
meant ‘brav-O’,” Cole explained, emphasising the ‘oh’ sound.

“No I didn’t,” she tried to whisper to him.

“Yes, you did.” He emphasised.

She didn’t understand it, but he was keen for her not to slight the players, no matter how
unintentional that insult was. She turned to the stage and smiled.

“Yes, I did. My
apologies for interrupting.” She sat back down.

Everything was falling into place now, but she sat quietly as she completed the puzzle.

There were things she needed to check before she could prove her theory true, but she was willing to bet that if not completely accurate, she was on the right path.

When they play ended, Thea clapped along with everyone else, then whispered to Cole.

“Excuse me, I have to see Mr Black before dinner.” With a quick kiss to his cheek, she ran out of the room before the applause had died down.

Mr Black was actually waiting in the corridor outside,
ready to attend to the guests as they headed into the dining room. Thea pulled him aside and he proved very amenable, leaving the head footman to care for everyone while he went to do as she bid.

He returned after the first course had been served and nodded at Thea, signalling that her requests were being taken care of.

She smiled her thanks.

“Is everything all right?” Cole asked, having noticed the interaction.

“Everything is very good,” she assured him. “After dinner, I think we will have the answers we seek.”

He smiled, feeling surprisingly indifferent. He knew, of course, that Selena had murdered his father
, which was the only justice he could summon any great enthusiasm for.

His
appetite was small and he spent most of the meal looking around the table, wondering which of the people present had killed Mrs Garwood and Mary Potter. He didn’t like to believe any of them capable of murder but clearly at least one dinner guest (excluding Mrs Cole who wasn’t there) had killed someone.

As de
ssert was served, Thea excused herself. She returned just as the plates were being cleared away.

“Ladies and gentlemen, if we could
all retire to the drawing room, I believe I can finally explain the unfortunate events that have been happening recently.”

“Oh?” Mrs Dale asked. “That does sound ex
citing. I do hope Selena will be present, I know she is in shock but I’m certain she would like answers as much as the rest of us.”

“Fear not, Mrs Dale, Mrs Cole is being escorted to the drawing room as we speak.”

“Wonderful, I am so looking forward to seeing her, I do hope she is all right.”


If you will follow me.” Thea led them into the drawing room but this evening, there would be no singing, no music and no card games.

Thea took an armchair near
the door and Cole took the chair beside it, Lord Copley the chair beside him; all the chairs had been angled so that the different groupings were all facing the middle of the room.

Reverend Wattle was already there, nursing a glass of port, and he got to his feet as everyone entered.

Mrs Cole was also there, seated by the fire with both Ella and a manservant standing close by.

Mrs Dale, Eliza and Emily made straight for her, crowding a
round and asking how she was faring.

Once everyone was seated with a drink,
Black called for silence and Thea began.

“I will start with the murder of
Mr Cole. It is with regret that I have to inform you that Mr Cole did not die of natural causes; he was poisoned.”

“Poisoned!” Mrs Buchan exclaimed. “Surely not.”

“I’m afraid so. The white lines on his fingernails made me suspect arsenic poisoning and using a test devised by James Marsh, the doctor and I were able to prove it.”

“Wait, I heard something about this,” Lord Small said. “Wasn’t
John Bodle found innocent because the test was inconclusive?”

“He was indeed, which led to Mr Marsh developing a better test, one that left no room for doubt. As yet this method is untested in the English courts, which accounts for why it is not widely known, but
it has been successfully used in France, to prosecute Marie LaFarge for murder.”

“Who poisoned
Beau?” Mrs Dale asked, and Cole wondered if she was as innocent as she seemed. She was his step-mother’s closest friend, so it wasn’t untoward to believe that she might have known about the scheme.

“Mrs Cole.”

Mrs Dale turned towards her friend and shrank away! “Selena?”

“Lies,” Mrs Cole answered, stony-faced.

“Unfortunately a search of your rooms by my father and the Reverend, found your poison, Mrs Cole.”

Everyone looked from
Lord Copley to the Reverend, with a few giving Cole pitying glances.

Mrs Cole remained unmoved.

“Next comes the vicious murder of the maid, Mary Potter. She was a young girl and still full of dreams. She wanted a better life for herself and I believe that when an opportunity presented itself, she took it.”

“Isn’t that rather speculative?” Lord Small asked.

“Not at all.” Thea nodded to Black, who opened the door to the entrance hall and let a youth into the room.

“This is Mary’s brother, John Potter
,” Thea introduced him. “Would you please tell everyone what you told me earlier?”

He nodded. “On her day off, her last one before she died, Mary told us that she was going to America and she wanted me and George to go with her. She’d been talking about it for years so we all laughed, but she said she was going, insisted on it in fact, she even showed us the advertisement for the company she was going to book with. George and
me told her we couldn’t afford it, the tickets were four pounds each and then what would we do for money once we were out there? Working’s all very well but what if we couldn’t get a job right away?”

“This is all very interesting,” Mr Buchan interrupted, his tone implying that it was anything but interesting. “However I fail to see how this is of any relevance.”

“Because Mary promised to buy their tickets,” Thea explained. “Steerage tickets to America are four pounds each and for a housemaid earning just 18 pounds a year, that is a huge amount of money.”

“Aye,” George agreed, adding, “she promised us that she had a hundred pounds coming to her, more than enough to set us up out there while we sought work.”

“Fantasy!” Mr Garwood scoffed. “You can hardly take the ramblings of a foolish child as proof.”

“I would have agreed with you,” Thea assured him. “Except that Mary purchased three travelling
trunks from a shop in the town, quite cheap ones compared to the standards we are used to, but a small fortune for a maid. That is quite an investment in a fantasy, wouldn’t you say?”

John searched his pockets until he found the
luggage receipt, which he held up.

“I think there can be little doubt that Mary truly believed that she had one hundred pounds coming to her
,” Thea concluded. “Thank you, Mr Potter. Someone will take you back to town.”

Mr Potter nodded to the company and allowed Black to show him out of the room.

“The next question we must ask ourselves,” Thea continued, “is where was that money coming from?”

“Did she know
that Mrs Cole was poisoning her husband?” Lord Grady asked.

“It is impossible to say with certainty what she knew,
” Thea answered, but Cole thought that she might be lying. She certainly wasn’t a good actress and he made a note to ask her about it later.

“However,” Thea continued. “
I believe we can say with some certainty that she was blackmailing
someone
in this house. The force with which the poker was wielded rules a woman out as the attacker, so even if she was blackmailing Mrs Cole, someone else murdered her.”

“Who?”

“For the answer to that, as well as why Mr Cole was killed, we must look to the third murder, that of Mrs Garwood.”

“This is all just speculation!” Mr Garwood said, downing the content of his glass in one swallow and getting up to refill his glass
.

“What is not speculation, Mr Garwood, is that you and Mrs Cole were lovers.”

“What? Her? That uncouth, money grubbing woman?”

“Considering that you married your wife for her rather large dowry, I hardly think you are in a position to judge. In any case, we have proof that these love letters, found during the search of Mrs Cole’s room, are in your hand
writing.” She held up one of the letters and beside it, a document taken from his room. “There is an uncanny likeness, no? Especially in the shape of the s, the tails are quite unique.”

“Where did you get
that?”

“Your room was also searched earlier
,” Thea explained. “We took this to compare to the writing on Mrs Cole’s love letters.”

“Even if you are correct, you cannot prove when those letters were sent.” Mr Garwood gave her a smug smile.

“How do you know that?” Thea asked.

“Because the letters aren’t dated.”

“Then my next question would be, how do you know that? You are seated at least ten feet away from me, you cannot possibly read the letter from there and even assuming that you could, I have carefully kept the top portion of the letter, where the date would usually be recorded, hidden.”

“Oh, don’t be so ridiculous!
Nobody puts a date on love letters!” he got to his feet and began to pace the room. “I can't believe you’re all listening to this child! I didn’t kill my wife, you all know I was with the rest of you when she was stabbed!”

“Indeed you were with them, and you have an airtight alibi for her stabbing.”

“Thank you,” he said rather gracelessly.

“I didn’t say you didn’t kill her, Mr Garwood, I said that
you had an alibi for the time of her stabbing.”


So what? You’re saying I hired a ghost to stab her, or something equally ridiculous?”

Thea turned to Black. “Is the doctor here yet?”

“He is, Ma’am.”

“Could you show him in?”

“Of course.” The door opened and Dr
Kerridge entered.

“Good evening.” The doctor bowed to the room. “I apologise for being late.”

“Not at all, thank you for coming on such short notice, Doctor,” Thea said.

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