A Drowning in Bath

by L. A. Nisula

  Mr. Douglas brought us to the center of town, right in the heart of the Regency sights. I should have been thrilled and plotting how to convince him to either ignore Milly’s protests or get her out of my way so I could explore on my own. But I found the case was too deeply tangled in my mind, and instead of wondering where Mr. Darcy or Emma Woodhouse would have walked, I was remembering what Mr. Langley had said about Mr. McSwain’s barber shop and, as we passed the Pump Room, I couldn’t help looking around for the building where Mr. McSwain worked.

  “Did you ladies want to stop and sample the waters or see the Roman Baths?”

  “We had water at the hotel, didn’t we, Cassie? And the Roman Baths sound very–” Milly made a gesture with her hand that I interpreted as either boring or stuffy, but I was too busy trying to locate Mr. McSwain’s place of employment to give my own opinion.

  “There are some shops along the way. Perhaps those are more to your taste.”

  “I think that sounds wonderful, don’t you, Cassie?”

  “Why don’t you two go on ahead. There’s something I want to have a glance at.”

  “We could... Oh, didn’t Mr. Langley say Mr. McSwain worked around here? Is that where you’re going?” Milly turned to Mr. Douglas. “He was at the baths, you know.”

  Apparently Milly hadn’t taken my lectures on suspecting everyone nearly as seriously as I’d thought. Mr. Douglas had been at the baths, but no one we’d spoken to yet had seen him during the key period before Miss Caldwell was killed.

  Mr. Douglas turned to me. “Would you like someone to accompany you?”

  Certainly not him, not until I was at least certain as Milly that he wasn’t involved. “No, I’ll be fine. I only want to know if he saw anything that afternoon.” I wasn’t certain if it was merely a polite question or a warning to be careful. If it was a warning, I hoped he understood that I had no intention of accusing anyone of murder, not at this stage of the investigation and with no proof.

  “Very well. We’ll go on to the shops along there,” he pointed in the direction of a small street with a milliner’s on the corner, “and when you’ve finished, we can meet up there.”

  I nodded and waited until they were on their way, just in case Milly decided they ought to accompany me, then I went in search of the barber shop.

  Mr. McSwain’s shop wasn’t hard to find. Mr. Langley had said it was quite near the Pump Room, and once I found the correct street, the shop was easy to locate. There was only one person inside when I entered, the dark-haired man behind the counter whom I recognized from the brief glimpse I’d had of him at the baths. He looked surprised to see a lady walk into the shop. “Can I be of assistance, miss?” he asked in a tone of voice that suggested he was prepared to give me directions to where ever it was I was actually trying to get to.

  As a way to ease into the questions I had, I asked, “Are you Mr. McSwain?” When he nodded, I went on. “You were pointed out to me at the Fellcroft Hotel. I’m staying there, and I was in the baths when Miss Caldwell’s unfortunate incident occurred.”

  “Oh my, I’m very sorry. Did you know her?”

  “Not well, but it was very sad. I was hoping you might have seen something. I saw you were there before the incident.”

  “I was there, yes. I go for my back, you see. The heat helps, and the water is warmer there than at the more historical baths, probably from the heater they try not to let us see, not to mention it’s cheaper and less crowded. I’ve tried most of the other places in town, but I don’t really believe there’s any magic property to the water, nothing that can’t be done with heated river water and a few minerals added. None of it provides more than temporary relief. Still, it’s better than nothing. Normally I go to the men’s bathing in the morning when, well, as you can see, there’s no one about here, and I can put up a closed sign for an hour or so without any real loss of business. But I attempted to move one of the chairs on my own, and it aggravated my back, so I really had no choice but to slip away that afternoon and see if it would give me some relief. And it did for a time. So no, I wasn’t paying attention to anything until I heard the commotion. That was you, wasn’t it? One of the two ladies who alerted everyone to the problem?”

  “My cousin was there with me, yes.”

  “When I realized something was wrong, I did try to swim over, but there were stronger swimmers there already, and just about anyone is a stronger swimmer than I am, so I was looking around to see if there was any other way to help. There was a family with children, but the young man the hotel likes to have swan around in his bathing costume was already getting them out the side door. I tried looking for someone who might have been with the girl who might need assistance, but she seemed to be alone.”

  “Her companion doesn’t swim, so she’d stayed behind.”

  “I see. Is she all right?”

  “As well as can be expected.” I paid close attention to the tone of his answers, but from what I could tell, he was genuinely interested in what he was asking and not trying to distract me. “Can you tell me what you did see?”

  “There was a pair of spinsters who seemed nice enough. I was considering going over and speaking to them, but Dr. Gaines went over to them, and I didn’t want to see him. He’s always trying to get me over to his consulting room to try some new-fangled contraption of his. I suspect most of them are nothing more than noisy gears and a battery to give a little shock and make you think it’s done something so you won’t balk when you’re handed the account. Since I was avoiding him, I stayed in my corner and tried to find a comfortable position. And then the commotion started, and as I said, when I saw there were people more capable of rendering her aid than I, I went looking for another way to be of assistance.” As he was speaking, Mr. McSwain was beginning to fidget. At first I thought he was hinting for me to hurry up and leave, then I realized he was merely trying to find a comfortable position for his back.

  As he seemed to know the regular bathers, I asked, “Did it surprise you that Dr. Gaines didn’t go to render assistance?”

  “Not at all. Most likely he thought the girl was beyond help and got away as quickly as he could in case anyone heard that he hadn’t been able to save her. It might have damaged his reputation for infallibility, although he’s the only one who believes he is.”

  “Did you see anything at the time she went under the water?”

  “No, or if I did, I didn’t realize that’s what I was seeing. How long was she under? Were they able to tell?”

  “Not very long at all.”

  “Hmm, that seems quite fast to have drowned. Do you suppose she fainted for some reason? I’ve heard if one is unconscious and not struggling, it happens faster. You don’t know not to try breathing, I suppose.”

  If that were true, it was further support for the chloroform theory. If I were in London, I could have asked one of my friends at Scotland Yard, but it didn’t seem worth a mechanical bird or telegram, not yet anyway.

  “But no, I was looking away from Dr. Gaines for a good five minutes before it happened.”

  As I was thinking of another question, the door opened and a boy of about twelve came in. “Any work today, Mr. McSwain?”

  “Hello, Andy. The boxes by the door there. They belong in the back room.”

  “Right.” Andy started to pick up the boxes, stacking three on top of each other—a fourth would have blocked his view—and carrying them to the back.

  “A relative of yours?”

  “Andy? No, he lives down the street. I pay him a couple of shillings a day to come and move boxes for me, do a little sweeping, things that aggravate my back.”

  “That’s very generous.”

  “Not really. I tried moving those boxes this morning. It’s why I’m having so much trouble staying still. I think I’ll have to go to the baths again tomorrow if it doesn’t loosen up soon, but I suppose the Fellcroft Hotel’s are closed?”

  “I believe so, yes.”

  “Then I suppose I�
��ll brave the crowds at the Roman Baths.”

  I hadn’t heard anything to make me think he was a good suspect. “I hope they help. And thank you very much for telling me all this.”

  “Of course. I wish I’d seen something. It would be a fine thing to have helped figure out what went wrong.” He made to show me to the door, but I assured him it wasn’t necessary and saw myself out.

  Chapter 11

  FINDING WHERE MILLY AND MR. DOUGLAS had gone wasn’t difficult. They were in the same millinery shop on the corner they’d been going to when I went to look for Mr. McSwain, and from Mr. Douglas’s glazed-over expression, I suspected they had been there ever since I’d left them.

  “Cassie, which hat do you like better?” Milly modeled a large, floppy green thing and an equally large wide-brimmed straw hat, both several years out of date. “They’d need a little work, but the shape is good. If I shorten the brim and changed the ribbons and...”

  I was tempted to point out that if she was willing to do that much work, she had similar hats already, but that would most likely trigger a search for something unlike anything she already owned, and that would take hours. At least she wasn’t asking for details of my meeting with Mr. McSwain. I glanced at Mr. Douglas, but he didn’t seem to have an opinion on anything. “The green,” I said, only because it seemed less work to alter it. Milly cheerfully went off to pay for it, and Mr. Douglas quickly suggested a return to the hotel so she wouldn’t have to carry it around. It seemed a morning in town with Milly did not go quite as he’d imagined it would.

  On the way back, Milly proceeded to tell me all about what they had seen, which seemed to have been limited to the contents of the hat shop. Whenever she asked Mr. Douglas to give his views on something, he became very concerned about finding his way back to the hotel. As I could imagine exactly how Milly’s morning had gone without hearing her description, I listened with half-an-ear in case my name was mentioned in a way that required a response and considered what I had learned.

  Mr. McSwain did not seem to be a good suspect. I didn’t think he was making up the difficulties with his back, or even exaggerating it for sympathy. Not if he paid a local boy several shillings a week to move what had clearly been light boxes and sweep up. And if his back prevented such simple tasks, it was unlikely he would be able to swim up to Miss Caldwell unnoticed, pull her under as we’d seen, and then swim away again underwater, which was the only way I could see the murder being committed. And his views on why Dr. Gaines hadn’t assisted seemed consistent with Mr. Langley’s assessment and with the man I’d met. That meant neither of the people from town were involved; it had to be one of the guests.

  I knew I ought to be pleased by that. Ruling out any suspect made investigating easier, and it was certainly easier to run into another guest at the hotel and strike up a conversation and hope they said something unintentional than to go into town and find a reason to speak to strangers. But if it had been someone in town, that would have been a connection, a reason for her to have come here. And it might have led me to the reason she was killed.

  ~ * ~ * ~

  When we arrived at the hotel, I expected Milly to suggest tea with Mr. Douglas, or at least a walk in the garden, but she seemed to be in a hurry to get her new hat safely put away, and I didn’t see any reason to stay without her. Mr. Douglas gave the barest token of disappointment at our departure, further confirming the idea that he had had more than enough talk of hats and ribbons for one day.

  We’d barely made it through the door to our room when Milly said, “You were very quiet on the way back.”

  “Noticeably so?” I hoped I hadn’t been rude, or worse, tipped off Mr. Douglas that he was a suspect. He did seem to be taking an interest in my investigation.

  “Oh, not to Mr. Douglas. I kept talking to cover for you, so he didn’t notice a thing.”

  I smiled a little. “And since I didn’t complain, you knew something was going on?”

  Milly grinned back. “Something like that.”

  “Now that I think I know how it was done, and I’ve ruled out the people who were there from town, I was just wondering which of the other guests could have held her under.”

  Apparently, Milly had developed an interest in the case again. “Did she come here to meet someone? That would be a place to start.”

  “If she was, Miss Morrison doesn’t think she’d seen him yet. But the reason for the trip is all very murky. I wonder where she got the idea to come here. I mean the hotel, not Bath in general. It doesn’t seem to be one of the more popular places. How did you and Randall choose this place?”

  “There was an article on it in one of Randall’s newspapers. Or maybe it was an advertisement. In any case, it said that it had all the romance of Bath, but more privacy as it wasn’t in the main tourist area, and with the convenience of on-site bathing. It sounded just what we wanted. And the price was quite reasonable. I thought we’d have trouble booking rooms on such short notice, but they assured us they could accommodate any requests we had.”

  “I can see how that would be appealing, both to a murderer and to Miss Caldwell if she was planning to meet a gentleman here.”

  “I suppose.” I could tell Milly wasn’t quite certain what I meant about what appealed to the murderer being what would have appealed to Miss Caldwell for her secret rendezvous, and most likely what had appealed to her and Randall.

  I didn’t bother to explain the appeal of privacy to a murderer. “It doesn’t help us find a connection, though, either to the place or one of the other guests. They all probably read about it in a similar sort of advertisement, which could have been in any sort of newspaper.”

  “Maybe there isn’t a connection. Maybe they just picked this place at random. Or she picked it, and the murderer had to go along with it. Or maybe she wasn’t the right victim. Why would anyone want to kill her?”

  “I’ve been assuming the motive was money. Her father is rich; I assume she has some from him, but we don’t know that’s the reason.” I leaned against the bed. “I wonder who would know.” As it was Milly, I added, “Aside from the killer, of course.”

  “I suppose you can’t ask him, can you? Would Miss Morrison know?”

  “She seems the best hope, but I don’t think they were particularly close at all. She didn’t really know why they came here to begin with. I wonder who made the reservation, Miss Caldwell or the person she was meeting?”

  “Is it important? They ended up here either way.”

  “It could tell us what the connection is. And it would be interesting to know whether the murderer chose this spot to meet or Miss Caldwell did. Still, it’s better than what we have, which is nothing.” I pushed myself away from the bed. “I’ll see if Miss Morrison is in her room.”

  Miss Morrison was not in her room, which wasn’t a terrible thing. I was beginning to feel badly that I was bothering her so often with questions about her friend’s death. Even if they weren’t close, it was still a terrible and shocking occurrence. I was considering who else might know of a motive—the Bates sisters seemed to know most of the gossip, but Miss Caldwell wasn’t someone they’d known before and hadn’t really spoken to them while she’d been here, and Miss Grangeway was someone who might have been a companion here, but she didn’t seem to have been able to get away from her own chaperone long enough for a really good gossip—when I heard my name called. I turned and saw Mr. Fredrickson coming up the hallway with what seemed to be a large number of items from the shop in the lobby. As Mr. Fredrickson was alone, I paused to greet him.

  “Miss Pengear, how are you feeling after the unfortunate incident?”

  I didn’t want him to think he shouldn’t talk to me about it. “Quite well, thank you. I was just checking on Miss Morrison.” No sense in telling him I was investigating. “I helped her sort out some of Miss Caldwell’s things this morning. It’s a very difficult time for her, I’m sure.”

  “I’ll have to tell Caroline, Mrs. Fredrickson, then.
She was wondering if she should offer to help pack up, but then the girls started running around the grounds, and we had to try and stop them from running anyone down. She’ll be glad to know someone helped.”

  He didn’t seem opposed to talking about the incident, and I had more or less ruled him out, so I asked, “Did you see anything when it happened?”

  “So you are looking into it, then. Caroline heard the Bates sisters talking about you.” Seeing my expression he added, “I’m afraid you’re rather the talk of the place. Not gossip, mind you, just a sort of buzz under everything that one of the guests doesn’t think things are quite as the police see them.”

  “Oh, I suppose I am poking around a bit.” I hoped I didn’t sound too disappointed. I never liked people to know I was investigating. It colored their answers, and it let the killer, if there was one, know to be careful of me at best, and want my silence at worst. Still, it wasn’t his fault people couldn’t keep their mouths shut, and I hoped hedging a bit would make it sound more like curiosity than a full-blown investigation, which it was quickly becoming if it hadn’t already fallen into that category.

  Mr. Fredrickson didn’t seem to notice my concern, or if he did, he was polite enough to ignore it and answer my original question. “I’m afraid I won’t be any help. I was watching the baby, and Caroline had her hands full with the others, and when we realized what had happened, well, all we could think of was hurrying the children out of there as quickly as possible. Bribed them with the promise of sweets, I’m afraid.”

  “Quite natural, though. You didn’t see anyone around, then?”

  “Other than the children, no, we weren’t watching for anyone else.”

  From what I remembered of the children, they needed a great deal of watching. “Thank you. And tell Mrs. Fredrickson it was very nice of her to think of Miss Morrison.”