Questionable Results

by R A Wallace

  “Nurse Noble?” Otis waited for her nod to introduce himself. “Is this normal?” Otis couldn’t believe it was.

  Blanche moved away from the young man carrying soiled linens with her as she did. “It is normal for students to have the influenza each year.”

  He knew a deflection when he heard it. “But this?”

  She turned to face him. “l believe these symptoms are more severe.”

  He could see the concern in her face. His eyes dropped down to the soiled linens in her hand. He saw the familiar red color of blood.

  “How many?” He turned to count the number of sick. It was only seven. He wondered why there were so many beds set up. Surely she didn’t need them all?

  “There were only a few at first but as of this morning the number appears to be growing more quickly. I’m starting to see the military students now in addition to the regular normal school students.” The sound of the patient wracked by coughing interrupted whatever she was going to say next.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Otis stood outside of the infirmary with more questions than answers but it was obvious the school nurse was too busy to respond. He wondered who else might have their finger on the pulse of the campus. His eyes fell on the carefully trimmed hedge in front of the building. He turned and moved quickly wondering where the groundskeeper might be at this time in the morning.

  It took him several minutes to find Arch. When he did, Arch was already engaged in a discussion with a young man in a uniform. Otis studied the young second lieutenant as he drew closer. Tall and lanky, he was too young to have filled out much. It was obvious to Otis that the young officer had never seen combat. It was the expression on his face and the way he held himself. He wondered if the boy had ever been out of Pennsylvania. The war had made many an officer out of such men.

  Arch smiled a greeting as Otis reached them then motioned toward the young man in uniform. “Lieutenant Pierce Byers meet Otis Hart.”

  Otis held out his hand to shake. He managed to keep a straight face at the surprise on the young man’s face when presented with the left hand rather than the right.

  Arch continued speaking as the men greeted each other. “Otis has already been over there and spit back out.”

  “You don’t say?” Pierce eyed Otis with a level of curiosity normally due to a two-headed calf. “What is your rank?”

  Arch changed the subject quickly. “Pierce here is asking about hunting prospects.”

  “Something I’ve wondered myself,” Otis said. “I understand this area is known for it.”

  “That it is,” Arch said as he leaned on the shovel in his hands. “There’s the new state game preserve. It’s still in development, but the land is there. Even though it used to be private property, some have been hunting there illegally for generations.”

  “The state plans to stock it?” Pierce asked.

  “That’s the plan.” Arch shifted on his feet and lifted his shovel. “The state has many such areas set aside for hunting. It allows them to manage the harvest while maintaining a desirable population.”

  Otis could see that the young lieutenant intended to ask more questions. He disengaged from the conversation and continued on. He was climbing the stairs in Biltmore a short time later. Wesley’s office assistant, Bennie, was mired elbow deep in paperwork. Otis didn’t have to ask what it was for. He knew more than most how many trees were routinely sacrificed to official documentation.

  “Otis, what brings you by?” Bennie stood and lifted a stack of papers.

  “Is he in?” Otis was already moving toward Wesley’s office door.

  “He was on the telephone.” Bennie followed Otis across the large outer office.

  Otis opened the door without tapping. Wesley was just ending his call when he walked in. Bennie followed behind and left the stack of papers in one tray on Wesley’s desk. It was already precariously full.

  Wes eyed the tray with dismay. “Bennie, see if the Army has invented a way to automatically sign my name.”

  Bennie was still chuckling when he passed through the door to return to his desk. Otis took a seat across from Wes.

  “If you are here to talk about Virginia and the parade, I made my plea.” Wes gave Otis a resigned look. “She’s planning to attend anyway.”

  He’d heard her say as much. “You know it isn’t safe.”

  Wes propped his elbows up on his desk. “In her defense, she’ll be surrounded by hundreds of people from the Glennon community.”

  “All the better for a marksman to hide in their midst,” Otis grumbled.

  Wesley began rubbing his face with his hands tiredly. “We’ve seen our fair share of that.”

  “I’ve another reason why she shouldn’t attend,” Otis said. “I doubt she can argue with this one.”

  Wes took his hands from his face and looked at Otis with interest. “Oh?”

  “The infirmary,” Otis said.

  Wes sat back in his seat and shook his head. “You’ve lost me.”

  “Have you been there?”

  “I visited when I first arrived,” Wes said somewhat defensively. “Introduced myself.”

  Otis waved a hand. “Recently. With the influenza.”

  The tired look on Wesley’s face was gone as he straightened in his seat. “What do you mean?”

  “The nurse. She was too busy to speak with me just now but she’s had some students in with the influenza.”

  Wes relaxed. “I’m told that’s normal this time each year.”

  “No. Not this. The nurse herself said there’s been a change. An unexpected increase.”

  Wes glanced around his desk. There were piles of papers everywhere. He contemplated several of the piles then finally reached his hand into the middle of one of them and pulled out a paper.

  “This is the most recent report from the infirmary,” Wes said as he skimmed it. “Looks about right to me.” He dropped the report. “The influenza makes an appearance every year. It seems to be worse whenever the weather turns cooler and people interact in large numbers. Holidays and such.”

  Otis reached for the report. “The date on this is several days old. I’m talking about this morning.”

  Wes stood and crossed over to his door. “Bennie, do you have the latest report from the infirmary?”

  “No, Captain. Nurse Noble hasn’t submitted anything yet.” There was silence for a moment before Bennie continued. “Here is the report from yesterday. She only indicated a slight increase.”

  Wes turned back to Otis. “I am not certain there is reason for panic just yet, old man.”

  “I still don’t think it’s safe for your sister to go out.” Otis knew he was being stubborn. “The fiend is still out there.”

  He left Wesley a short time later. Too worked up to return to Glennon House, he opted for another turn around the campus. He encountered Delia once again as she walked toward him from the direction of the infirmary.

  “Class over?” He turned and fell into step beside her.

  “I usually get a bit of exercise between classes,” she said. “I finally made the time to stop in and see the nurse.”

  “Problem with your injury?” he asked.

  “No.” She slanted a look at him. “Have you heard anything about influenza cases in the area?”

  “I stopped in to see Nurse Noble as well,” he said. “What did you think?”

  Delia was quiet for a few moments. “Blanche appeared unusually ruffled.”

  “I don’t know the woman,” he murmured.

  “She is the sensible type.”

  “Not usually prone to exaggeration,” he guessed.

  “Exactly.”

  He turned a corner when she did. “Where are we going?”

  “I promised the domestic science teacher I would stop in to see her newest patriotic endeavor,” Delia said with a nod toward the side entrance of Glennon Hall. “It’s quicker if we slip in this way.”

  He followed her through the hallway.
“How is your investigation with the death at the game preserve?”

  She made another turn when they reached a crossway in the halls. “I’ve spoken with several people. The matter may be more complex than first imagined.”

  “What about the woman?” he asked.

  Delia turned toward him with her brows raised. “Which woman?”

  “Did you see the small mention in the newspaper this morning?”

  “The entire newspaper appeared smaller.”

  “Part of the economies of war,” he said.

  “To conserve the paper,” she said with a nod. “As with everything else, it is becoming scarce.”

  Otis thought of the mounds of paperwork on Wesley’s desk. “It was just a small mention, near the back. It was buried in among ads promising to cure every ailment and a rather riveting discussion of new fashions.”

  “Your newspaper reading habits are much more exhaustive than mine,” she said with a smile as she turned another corner.

  “Information is a valuable commodity,” he said. “In this case, I learned that a woman was very upset about a recent break-in.”

  “That would be enough to upset anyone.” Delia’s steps began to slow.

  “Within the small blurb, she was quoted as saying that it was too much to bear. First, her lover was killed in the woods. Now the break-in.”

  Delia stopped and turned toward him. “You think she refers to Marcus Sidehill, the man killed in the woods at the game preserve?”

  “It would be quite a coincidence otherwise, don’t you think?” He glanced through the open door next to them.

  The room was filled with sewing machines of every shape and size. Most were similar to small desks with a treadle at the bottom to manually drive it. Those models required constant effort on the part of the user to operate the machine by rocking the foot pedal back and forth. A few were electric units that could be put away on a shelf when not in use. Those portable devices were placed on top of tables scattered throughout the room.

  “What do we have here?” Otis asked as he watched the activity in the room. There were young girls everywhere industriously intent on their tasks.

  “Masks,” Delia said above the noise of the room.

  Otis followed her inside. He was quite certain she didn’t refer to gas masks. He stopped next to a young woman bent over her sewing machine. The fabric she was working with was gauze. He lifted his brows at Delia but then remembered another mention in the newspaper earlier in the week.

  “For the military camps?” he guessed as a woman approached them.

  “Mabelle Neff, Otis Hart,” Delia said. “Otis works for the principal.”

  “I’ve seen you on campus,” Mabelle said to Otis. “It’s nice to finally meet you.”

  Otis let his eyes scan the room. “Very impressive effort here.”

  “We try to do our part,” Mabelle said with a satisfied smile as she looked around the room. “As you know, they’ve put out a call for women all over the country to make masks for the soldiers in the military camps. They’re hoping it might reduce the influenza contagion. Have you come to volunteer?”

  Otis laughed. “I doubt anything I produced would be usable.”

  “You are not alone in that regard,” Delia said as she motioned toward a small stack of completed masks. “But Mabelle has graciously allowed me to apply my rather impressive packaging skills to get these sent off.”

  “We’ll take any volunteers,” Mabelle said. “Even if they can only manage a few minutes.”

  “Which is about all that I have,” Delia said as she lifted the stack of masks. “I must be on the next trolley into town.”

  “I can still carry boxes,” Otis said with a smile. “But I have some other things to attend to at the moment as well.” He needed to speak with Virginia. He left with a promise to return.

  Chapter Sixteen

  She was a matronly woman with understanding eyes. Virginia felt immediately as though the woman in a navy serge skirt and unadorned white waist could see right through her. Rather than finding it comforting, it unnerved her. She wondered at the woman’s calm veneer. Was it a mask of sorts? If so, the woman had an enviable skill with it.

  Virginia hoped her own mask was firmly in place as she remembered the reason for her current interview. Her dearest friends, Araminta Whitmer and Chester Vanderlin, had infiltrated her home. Absconded with the loyalty of her former nanny and broken Virginia’s heart in the process. Virginia forced her attention back to the present. The staid woman sitting across from her waited patiently.

  “Dorcas Campbell, you said.” Virginia looked up from the resume in her hand.

  “Yes, Mrs. Gray.”

  Something pulled at her brain. “The name sounds somewhat familiar. I haven’t read it anywhere in the newspapers, have I?” Virginia felt her lips press together in dismay.

  “I don’t look familiar?” Dorcas asked.

  The woman’s photograph had also been in the paper? Perhaps it was even worse than she’d feared. Virginia prepared to end the interview before it even began.

  “You were very young, of course. And not in the best of temper. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.” Dorcas’s smile was gentle.

  Virginia felt her brows go up higher than she thought possible. “Excuse me?”

  “You were ill as a young girl. Around three or four, if I remember correctly. Your mother called on my employers at the time in something of a state. She was so worried about you, just as she should be.”

  Virginia felt another tug on her memory.

  “They were friends, you see. My employer loaned me to your mother until you were well again,” Dorcas continued.

  She could almost feel the comfort of a cool cloth on her forehead. A fragment of a song slipped through her mind. “You sang to me,” Virginia murmured.

  “You were such a tiny thing. It was just a childhood illness. Nothing that should have been alarming, but it seemed to hit you harder than most. Of course, within a matter of days you were up and about as though nothing ever happened.”

  “You left.” It sounded like an accusation. Virginia wondered at the intensity in her own voice.

  “Returned to my employer,” Dorcas agreed.

  Virginia pulled herself back to the moment. “Yes, well. Your skills in the sick room must be commendable.”

  “I have spent my fair share of hours in sick rooms over the years,” Dorcas said modestly. “Your mother sent me a Christmas card every year after that. I was so sorry to learn about her passing.”

  Virginia felt her throat tighten. Her eyes dropped down to her hands. She realized she was creasing the paper in her hand.

  “Yes, um.” Virginia cleared her throat. “I’ve been renovating the old school room. I wonder if you might take a look at it? I should like to hear your opinion.”

  Virginia stood. If Dorcas was surprised at the invitation, she didn’t show it. Virginia led the way down the hall and through to the other side of the house. She turned to see Dorcas’s reaction after stepping into the newly wallpapered room.

  “What do you think?” Virginia felt herself hold her breath.

  Dorcas assessed the room quietly for several moments before she began to nod. This time, Virginia wasn’t dismayed by the look of steady approval given by the other woman. She didn’t find Dorcas’s intelligent eyes intrusive. She felt as though she had a valued partner in her project.

  “Some books, perhaps. Age appropriate, of course. It will get her started on the right path to reading. I’ve found there are times when nothing will do but a good story to enjoy together.” Dorcas turned to inspect every corner. “You have the bookshelves for it.” She motioned toward a small table and chairs. “And perhaps a tea party with some dolls as guests.”

  Virginia could picture the joy in Christine’s face as she drank from a child-sized teacup. “I have fond memories of tea parties.”

  “The colors you chose are lovely,” Dorcas said with a smile.

&nb
sp; Virginia felt her lips curl up for the first time in a long time. As she led the way back to the other side of the house, she explained the particulars about Dorcas’s new position. She was sitting alone in her office feeling rather pleased with herself when Otis appeared in the doorway. It was obvious by the look on his face that he meant to argue.

  She held up one hand. “Please do not begin with your concerns about the parade again. I will be safe.”

  “Have you thought of the influenza?” He took a few steps into the room.

  Any feelings of contentment from a moment ago were gone. “What about it?”

  “Large gatherings of people should be avoided,” Otis said.

  “As opposed to being around the hundreds of students on campus?” She stood to leave the room.

  “It isn’t safe,” he insisted.

  “You sound like a broken record.” As she passed him at the doorway, she heard a sigh.

  She chose to ignore it as she continued walking toward the baize door. She needed to ask the housekeeper to have the nanny’s room prepared. The thought brought the smile back to her face.

  ***

  Delia stepped down and walked the distance from the trolley stop to the newspaper office. She’d considered returning to her apartment to read the mention in the paper that Otis had described. Since she was planning to go to town anyway, she opted to go to the source. She found Nessie taking notes for a new advertisement in the help wanted section when she stepped inside.

  Delia watched the movement in the rear of the office with interest while she waited. It was nearly always bustling with activity when she stopped. Today was no exception. There were printers and press boys moving about as they worked on their duties. Nearly every inch of wall space was taken up with racks. She knew they held the many type faces needed to produce the print.

  She watched as a man bent over an imposing stone as he arranged the type for printing on a page. Even without being near enough to see it, she knew the large marble workspace would be stained with ink. Voices could be heard above the clattering of typewriters as a man pushed a cart laden with bundles of what she assumed would be transformed into the Glennon Daily News.