by Emily Organ
“I do.”
I turned to look at him. Our faces were practically touching, and everything suddenly seemed very quiet.
His eyes moved over my face as if he were planning to kiss me. I held my breath, not daring to move and ruin the moment. Then he seemed to check himself. He released his arm from my shoulder and slowly stood to his feet.
Disappointment descended upon me and I felt an undeserved loathing for the woman who was keeping us apart.
“I will do everything I can to gather evidence of what Maynell’s been doing,” said James. “I already have this letter he’s sent to me. The man was foolish to think that I would be unable to match his handwriting to the letters he sent Borthwick.”
He picked up the ball of scrunched paper and opened it out again.
“He must have assumed that you had never seen these letters,” I said.
“Well, he assumed wrong. We’re one step ahead of him now.”
“Perhaps Jack Copeland is also in on this,” I suggested. “We need to see an example of his handwriting to know for sure.”
“You think the two men could be co-ordinating this cowardly attack?”
“It’s worth investigating. Let me give you the other letters I have,” I said, delving into my carpet bag to find them. “And you can tell me if you find any handwriting which matches the writing on them.”
I gave James the letters. His expression was grave, as if he were saddened that I had received any of them.
“Would you like to join me at the medical school museum at ten o’clock tomorrow?” he asked. “We need to ask Mr Kurtz if Richard Geller is the man in these photographs.”
I smiled and nodded. “Of course, James. I’ll see you then.”
“And please don’t worry about that letter, Penny. It’s all nonsense.”
“I have forgotten it already.”
I stepped out into the bright sunshine of Berkeley Square and tried to push the words of Jeffrey Maynell’s letter to James out of my mind. I longed to confront Maynell and find out why he had written it. But doing so at this stage would place the investigation at risk. For the time being we needed to gather as much evidence as possible so that he could be confronted properly at a later date.
You should stay away from her if you wish to have a happy marriage, Inspector Blakely.
I recalled the moment when I had thought James was about to kiss me. I had to reluctantly admit that there was an element of truth to this phrase. Was there any truth to the rest of the letter?
As I looked about me before crossing the road I caught a glimpse of a familiar figure. She stood watching me from further down the street. She wore a pale blue skirt and jacket with the same dark hat as before.
It was the woman from the reading room again.
I felt an uncomfortable flip in my chest. Then I gritted my teeth and strode towards her.
She turned and walked swiftly away down Charles Street. I began to run and she did the same, pushing past people on the pavement.
She was a good deal faster than me.
“Oi!” I called out, aware that my shout was unladylike and unexpected to the people around me. I attracted a few disapproving glares, and my boots pinched my toes as I ran.
The woman turned into Queen Street and I followed. She turned again into a narrow street, and I expected to see her ahead of me as I followed in her footsteps. Instead, the narrow road ahead of me was empty.
I walked slowly, checking doorways as I went. Was she waiting for me? Would she ambush and attack me?
I gripped the handle of my carpet bag, ready to swing it at her should I need to defend myself. But after a further search there was no sign of the woman. It was as though she had disappeared into thin air.
Chapter 37
“You’ve just missed the lovesick gentleman from the library,” said Mrs Garnett as I returned home that evening. “He’s been writing things for you again.” She handed me a sheaf of papers.
“Thank you, Mrs Garnett.” I glanced quickly at them and saw that they were the notes he had written about Jeffrey Maynell.
I spent some time at my writing desk reading through Mr Edwards’ notes. Rain lashed against the window while Tiger slept on my lap. Jeffrey Maynell appeared to have enjoyed a good education, studying in the Department of Engineering at King’s College. He had joined Repton, Borthwick and Company shortly after his graduation and didn’t appear to have achieved much that was remarkable during his time there. Was it possible that he had been envious of Simon Borthwick’s success?
It was about eight o’clock when I heard voices downstairs.
“Miss Green!” came a shrill summons from Mrs Garnett.
Sensing that something was wrong, I put down my papers and went to find out what was the matter. Mrs Garnett stood in the hallway with a young woman in a cloak, which was soaked through with rain.
“You shouldn’t have come out in this weather!” Mrs Garnett scolded.
“I need to speak to Miss Green,” said the woman, looking up the stairs at me.
“Lillian?” I asked in puzzlement. “What is it? Has something happened?”
“She needs to dry out beside a proper fire,” said Mrs Garnett. “You can both come and sit in my parlour.”
We followed my landlady past the staircase and into a small room at the back of the house.
“Let me take your wet things,” said Mrs Garnett, holding out her hand for Lillian’s bonnet and cloak. “Take a seat and I’ll make you some tea.”
“What an attentive landlady you have,” said Lillian as Mrs Garnett went off into the kitchen.
We sat down at the small round table, which was covered with a lace tablecloth. Golden ringlets hung about Lillian’s pretty, youthful face in wet coils.
“What brings you here, Lillian?” I asked.” If your husband finds out you have spoken to me again he’ll be extremely angry.”
“I know,” she replied, “but I’ll make sure he doesn’t find out this time. I’ve made a promise to myself not to tell him. I refuse to give in to his bullying.”
“I don’t want you to put yourself at risk.”
“Let me take responsibility for it, Penny,” she replied. “I chose to come here, didn’t I? I’ve been thinking about Simon and there are a few things I wish to tell you. I met Jeffrey when I was courting Simon. We attended an event to celebrate Repton, Borthwick and Company installing its electric lights at the Law Courts. From the moment I met Jeffrey I could see that he had an interest in me. He kept glancing over throughout the evening, which I thought most rude because I was accompanied by Simon.
“After that evening he sent letters to my parents’ home and paid them a number of visits. It wasn’t long before he had convinced them that he was a worthier suitor than Simon. And then I was told Simon had unhealthy interests and that I shouldn’t be consorting with a man of his ilk.”
“What kind of unhealthy interests?”
“That was never elaborated upon.”
“Were you aware that he had these so-called interests?”
“No. I didn’t even know what they were. But before long everyone was telling me that he wouldn’t be a suitable husband.”
“Everyone?”
“My parents, my sister, Jeffrey.”
“What about your friends?”
“They wanted me to choose the man I would be happiest with, but they were concerned by the reports they had heard about Simon and told me there had to be something behind them.”
“What did Simon have to say on the matter?”
“He denied that he was involved in anything untoward, but I noticed a change in him after that. He withdrew and I wonder now if there was something he was keeping from me. I can’t think what it might have been, as I have no doubt that he loved and cared for me. He wasn’t as indifferent as I suggested at the restaurant. I only told you that because I had to provide a reason for leaving him. I found it difficult to tell you the truth when I had only just met you, and we wer
e chatting in such a public place.”
Lillian stopped talking as Mrs Garnett brought in the tea tray and placed it on the table. My landlady stood with her hands on her hips and regarded us both.
“I’m judging by the silence in the room that you don’t wish to speak with me present,” she said.
Lillian pulled an awkward grimace.
“We only need a few minutes, Mrs Garnett,” I said, feeling rather uncomfortable.
“Fine,” she replied curtly. “You pour the tea, Miss Green, and I’ll wait in the kitchen.”
Once she felt sure that the kitchen door was shut, Lillian continued with her story. “It was extremely difficult for Simon and me to be as happy as we had been,” she said. “Eventually he told me that perhaps it would be for the best if I married Jeffrey. I still don’t understand why he said that. It was as if he was pushing me away, albeit reluctantly; as if he didn’t want the relationship to end, but he had no choice. Does that make any sense to you?”
“Perhaps. Does Georgina know all this?”
“Some of it. She has been a good friend to me. I’ve spent a great deal of time at her home, as I can’t bear to be around Jeffery at the moment. He’s so terribly possessive of me. He doesn’t like me talking to anyone; least of all someone who wishes to discuss Simon Borthwick.”
“I realise that. He was quite angry with me when I spoke to him at the works down in Southwark.”
“Oh dear. I do apologise.’
“No, you mustn’t apologise for your husband’s behaviour. I’m worried about you, Lillian. Who else do you have living with you?”
“We have a housekeeper and a maid. And Jeffrey has a valet.”
“I think you need someone to protect you. Do the servants realise what he’s like?”
“Oh yes. They often see his rages.”
“Can they help in looking after you and protecting you from him?”
“I don’t know. I think they’re rather scared of him too, if truth be told.”
“Lillian, I think you need to spend as much time as possible elsewhere. It sounds as though Georgina and Edgar are helpful. Some men can be unpredictable, and you shouldn’t have to endure your husband’s rages. I’m interested to know if there was anyone else at Repton, Borthwick and Company who pressured you to leave Simon and choose Jeffrey instead.”
“I remember that on one occasion Jack Copeland told me I would be better off without Simon. It was an odd comment which he made during a dinner at Mr Repton’s home. He didn’t know me very well, but he was a friend of Jeffrey’s, so I suppose that was the reason why he said it.”
“Is your husband much of a letter writer, Lillian?”
“Not really. Why do you ask?”
“Some unpleasant letters have been sent to my family and friends, and as your husband was angered by our meeting I wondered if he might be behind them.”
Her eyes widened. “What a mean thing to do! Are you all right, Penny? I didn’t realise such a terrible thing had happened to you!”
“I’m fine, please don’t worry. Could your husband be behind the letters, do you think?”
“I don’t know. He does spend a lot of time in his study and I can’t be certain what he’s doing in there, but I don’t like to think that he could be writing letters of that kind. What a horrible thing to do!”
“Have you ever met a young woman who wears grey and runs quite fast?”
“She runs?”
“She keeps following me, and whenever I try to confront her she runs away. I thought perhaps your husband had asked her to follow me, but… I feel terribly awkward levelling such accusations at him.”
“Oh, please don’t worry.” She rested a hand against my arm. “He doesn’t help himself with his bad moods and tempers. I’m quite sure he wouldn’t write unpleasant letters or ask someone to follow you about, but I can quite understand why you might think him capable of it.”
“Did Simon Borthwick ever mention a man named Richard Geller?”
“No, who’s he?”
“A friend of Simon’s who was unfortunately murdered.”
“Oh goodness!” Lillian flung her hands up to her mouth, and I wondered if I had been foolish to mention Mr Geller.
“But that’s dreadful!” she continued. “Richard Geller, you say? I really don’t remember the name. Who murdered him?”
“The police don’t know yet.”
A line from Borthwick’s letter came back into my mind: Everything I care about has been taken away from me, piece by piece.
“Lillian, is it your belief that your husband pursued you while you were courting Simon?”
“Yes, he did. It began with that event celebrating the electric lights at the Law Courts. It was particularly ill-mannered of him.”
“Perhaps Simon viewed Jeffrey’s actions as some sort of persecution.”
Her eyebrows crumpled. “Why would he think of it in that way?”
“I’m not sure. I’m just trying to make sense of the words he used in his letter.”
“He thought Jeffrey was persecuting him by stealing me away?” She laughed derisively. “No, that would be ridiculous. I chose Jeffrey because Simon withdrew from me. I decided that Jeffrey was the better suitor.” She laughed again. “And now I’m not sure either man was a good choice!”
“What makes you say that?”
She waved the comment away. “Please forget that I said it.”
“If I understand you correctly, Lillian,” I ventured. “You have visited me this evening to tell me that Jeffrey pursued you, even though you were courting Simon. And you were warned that Simon had unhealthy interests.”
“Yes. Although, on reflection, I’m not sure how useful this information is to you. And I still don’t understand what was meant by ‘unhealthy interests’. Have you any inkling?”
“None, I’m afraid,” I lied.
“I hope you don’t mind me visiting you, Penny. I suppose I felt the need to explain how matters really stand. I didn’t feel I could speak freely at the restaurant.”
“You told your husband that we met there, didn’t you?”
“I’m afraid I did.” She bit her lip nervously. “Either he can read my mind or I’m a hopeless liar. But he knew that I had kept something from him and I felt it would be easier to tell him the truth. I’m sorry he was angry with you about it. He was angry with me, too.”
“Well he shouldn’t be angry. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
“It’s just the way Jeffrey is. He likes to know what I do each day and the people I meet with.”
I felt momentarily pleased to be a spinster.
“To tell you the truth,” Lillian lowered her voice and leaned in closer to me, “I feel quite afraid of him sometimes.”
I felt a rising concern for her. “Where is he now?” I asked.
“At the Garrick. He doesn’t go there very often, but when he does he stays out late, so I knew I would have time to come and see you this evening and return home before he did.”
“But what happens when he either reads your mind or you find it impossible to lie about this evening?”
She sighed, and I noticed that her eyes were damp. “I don’t know, Penny. Some days I wish I could leave him and return to my parents’ home.”
I understood her predicament but had no idea what the solution might be.
“It sounds like you’ve taken a significant risk in coming to see me this evening, Lillian. I don’t want you to find yourself in trouble with him again. Perhaps in future you could write to me instead. I think it would be safer that way.”
She looked at me sadly. “It would be, wouldn’t it? I’ve been quite foolish this evening. I’m sorry. I felt the need to explain matters to you a little more clearly, and as soon as he left the house I dashed over here without giving the situation much thought.”
“How did you find out my address?”
“Edgar gave it to me.”
I watched her hands fidget nervously and I felt
a deep hatred toward Jeffrey Maynell for the fear he had instilled in his wife. I was becoming increasingly convinced that he might be capable of murder.
“I shall come outside with you now and help you hail a cab,” I said. “And if you end up having to explain to your husband that we met this evening, please tell him that I was responsible for asking you to come here.”
“No, Penny! I couldn’t do that!”
“Please do. It will be safer that way. I have people who can protect me, such as Inspector Blakely from Scotland Yard. When it’s just you on your own in your home with him… I can’t bear to think what he might do. Please blame me for this if he finds out the truth.”
“I don’t think there’s any need —”
“Promise that you will,” I urged.
“All right, Penny.” She fixed me with her large blue eyes. “I promise.”
Chapter 38
James was already talking to Mr Kurtz inside the medical school museum when I arrived there the following morning. I had kept my eyes open for the woman in grey during my walk to St Bartholomew’s Hospital but had seen no sign of her.
“I’ve told you everything you need to know, Inspector,” said Mr Kurtz. “What else can there be?” He paused to look me up and down. “Good morning, Miss Green. I didn’t realise you’d be joining us.” His bloodless lips formed a sinister smile.
“Mr Kurtz, I have a question about some photographs I have come across,” said James. “Would you mind taking a look at them for me?”
He laid the four pictures we had found at the law firm out on the table.
“Goodness, what’s that?” James asked, peering at the contents of a large jar to his right.
“A pair of lungs,” replied Mr Kurtz.
“So that’s what they look like, is it?”
“They do indeed. Would you like to see the cross-section of a lung? We have a few samples here, and you’ll find the bronchioli quite fascinating, I’m sure. The diseased samples are particularly intriguing.”