For Dead Men Only: An Alexandra Gladstone Mystery

by Paula Paul

  “By God, ye done it,” Rob said.

  Nicholas knelt beside Alexandra and held the lantern next to her, not certain whether she was dead or alive. There was something tied to her leg.

  “Gaw!” Rob said, coming up behind him. “She’s dead, ain’t she?”

  Nicholas took her hand in his. It was cold, but not the waxy cold of death. At the same time he heard her moan. “She’s not dead,” he said. “We’ve got to get her back to the carriage.” By this time Zack had lain down beside Alexandra, his head on her chest.

  “Ol’ Zack’s still sick,” Rob said.

  “Thank goodness he was well enough to guide us to Dr. Gladstone,” Nicholas said. “Getting her out of here’s not going to be easy, though.”

  “She’s bad hurt,” Rob said.

  Nicholas lifted her into his arms. She moaned again as he moved her, but didn’t open her eyes.

  “How we gonna git ’er up that bank?” Rob asked.

  “Take my cape,” Nicholas said, shrugging it off his shoulders. “Spread it out, and I’ll lift her onto it. You take the corners of one end, and I’ll take the other. We’ll use it as a sling gurney to get her out.”

  Rob made his way up the side first, still holding the lantern. He snuffed the flame before he set it down, since it was now light enough that they wouldn’t need it as a beacon at the top. He slid himself down the embankment again to aid Nicholas. The two of them walked sideways up the side of the ravine with the makeshift gurney. Zack barked encouragement from the top. Alexandra remained silent as they began the hard slog upward. Nicholas knew she had awakened, hearing a cry of pain when they almost dropped her.

  Once they reached the carriage, the two of them lifted her into position in the front, with her injured leg extended.

  “Nancy,” she said. “Nancy will know how to help me.”

  “I’ll ride ahead,” Rob said as he mounted the horse he’d taken from Montmarsh. “Nance will probably be back by now. I’ll tell her to get ready.”

  “Be back by now? Where is she?” Alexandra’s words were slurred. She sounded more puzzled than worried.

  “We’ve all been out searching for you,” Nicholas said, trying to convince himself that Nancy would, indeed, be back by now.

  “Oh,” Alexandra said. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to…”

  “Of course not,” Nicholas agreed. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened to you?”

  “Fell down that steep…Broke my tibia,” she said, as the carriage started forward. Zack ambled alongside, keeping as close to Alexandra as possible. “Someone with a knife…” she said wearily.

  “A knife? My God!”

  “Where’s my bag?” Alexandra said, making a sudden frantic search all around her. “My medical bag. Where is it?”

  “Rob found it,” Nicholas said. “It’s safe at Montmarsh.”

  “How did it get to—”

  “Before I explain that, I want you to tell me who was following you and why. And why did he have a knife?”

  “Don’t know,” she said. “There were snakes.” She shivered as she sat beside him. “And then you came,” she said. “Never been so glad to see anyone in my life.”

  “And I you,” Nicholas said.

  Alexandra said no more. Nicholas glanced at her face and saw, in the weak purple predawn light, that it was pale and contorted with pain. His first inclination was to urge the horses to move faster, but he restrained the urge, knowing it would only make the ride rougher and cause her even more discomfort.

  They rode in silence for several minutes before Nicholas was able to make out two shadowy figures in the distance. He recognized the horse from his own stable that Rob was riding, and a few seconds later the white gelding Constable Snow always rode. He kept the carriage moving at a steady pace forward while the two horsemen advanced toward him at a faster rate. Their approach concerned him. He suspected it meant that Nancy had not yet returned.

  “Me lord!” Rob shouted from a distance.

  Nicholas responded with a wave of his hand, hoping the two of them could see it in the dim light. He didn’t want to answer with a shout of his own. Alexandra appeared to have dozed off, her head resting against his shoulder, and he didn’t want to wake her. Nevertheless, she sat up with a start when the sound of the horses became more pronounced.

  “Lord Dunsford,” Constable Snow said when he was close enough. “You must turn your carriage around toward Foulness.”

  “Foulness? That’s almost an hour away. Dr. Gladstone needs help immediately.”

  “I know. Young Rob told me,” Snow said, his voice tense, “but that’s the location of the nearest doctor.”

  Nicholas started to protest that Nancy could provide the service needed, but he stopped himself, not wanting to mention it aloud for Alexandra to hear, should she awaken. His effort was wasted. Alexandra lifted her head from his shoulder.

  “No,” she said. Her voice sounded even more strained than it had before. “Nancy can do what needs…” Her voice trailed off, making it clear that she was in too much pain to speak.

  “I’m afraid that’s not possible,” Snow said. “Nancy is missing.”

  Alexandra’s eyes widened. “Missing?” she asked. She was obviously in a state of confusion as a result of her ordeal.

  “We will begin a search for her immediately,” Snow barked. “What you must do is get your leg seen to as soon as possible.”

  Nicholas had already pulled the horses into a turn before Alexandra could protest more. Zack, seeing the carriage turn, barked a confused protest.

  “Rob!” Nicholas shouted. “See to the dog. He’s not well enough to follow.”

  Rob dismounted quickly and threw his arms around Zack’s neck. The big dog did his best to free himself, but Rob held on firmly as Zack used his considerable strength to try to shake free. He was even able to drag Rob a short distance.

  As they rode away, Nicholas could hear Zack’s alarmed bark. He wanted to be with his injured mistress. In time he heard a mournful howl as the horses increased the distance between them.

  Chapter 17

  A woman with two mouths and no eyes smiled at Alexandra. The woman dissolved into the shape of a horse twisted in a circle. There was a droning sound, as if a thousand bees were buzzing. The sound grew louder and louder before it stopped abruptly.

  Alexandra opened her eyes and heard someone speak. “She’s waking up!” It was a voice she didn’t recognize.

  “Her eyes look quite odd. Pupils extraordinarily dilated.” She knew that voice. It belonged to someone called Nicholas. Or Lord Something-or-Other. Now he was gone from her vision. There were only dancing lights in front of her.

  “She’ll come around presently, but it takes a while. I gave her a mixture of ipecacuanha and opium as an anesthesia so I could examine her leg and make certain it was set properly. Only a small dose, though. As you can see, she’s already awakening.” The voice came from one of the dancing lights—a green one that had grown an uncommonly large mouth.

  “Alexandra?”

  She turned her head toward the sound of her name. It was Nicholas. The features of his face began to take shape in the green light.

  “Alexandra, my dear. You’re going to be all right.”

  “Yes, my darling, I’m going to be quite all right,” she said. She felt someone squeeze her hand and brush her forehead with a kiss. Then she slept.

  She had no way of knowing how long she slept, but when she awakened, she saw Nicholas seated in a chair next to the bed. She couldn’t remember at first why she was here in this strange room. When she tried to get up, a jolt of pain in her leg brought back a memory of her injured limb and her attempt to make a splint from a tree branch.

  “Where am I?” Her lips and throat were parched, making it impossible to form words properly.

  “You’re in Dr. Abercrombie’s surgery,” Nicholas said.

  “Abercrombie? I have heard of…Do I know him?”

  “He’s a physicia
n here in Foulness. I brought you here so he could examine your leg. Apparently, you did a fine job setting it yourself. Abercrombie was quite impressed.”

  “Rob said he was a quack.” She was surprised to hear herself using that word.

  “Don’t worry, I’ve checked his credentials. He’s quite capable of setting a broken leg,” Nicholas said.

  “Why didn’t you allow Nancy…” Her voice trailed off.

  “Try not to be upset. Constable Snow is searching for her.”

  She tried to get up. A sickening pain in her head momentarily blinded her and forced her down again.

  “Alexandra, please…” She felt Nicholas’s hand encircling hers, and his other hand gently easing her shoulders down.

  “I must find her,” Alexandra said. “That person with the knife. Did he attack her?”

  Then the room revolved before it floated away. She saw nothing after that except visions of Nancy with a knife stuck in her chest.

  —

  Nicholas held a cup of cold water to her lips. “Ah, you’re awake again. You were having nightmares—crying and mumbling. Here, drink this.”

  The sky had begun to darken before Alexandra felt herself awake again. She asked Nicholas to go over in detail everything that had happened, and she, in turn, was able to tell him everything she remembered.

  By the time they had finished their accounting, Dr. Abercrombie had entered. He was wearing a white apron over his suit, and a stethoscope hung around his neck. The apron was soiled with blood. “You’re awake, I see, but with considerable pain, I would imagine.”

  “Some, yes.” Alexandra knew if she complained too much, she’d be confined longer.

  “Allow me to compliment you on the splint and bandage you somehow managed to provide for yourself. I dare say not many of us could do that.”

  Alexandra thanked him for the compliment and started to ask him to help her up, but Dr. Abercrombie interrupted. “Your early attention quite possibly ensured that you will be able to walk on the leg again, albeit with a limp.”

  “I fully intend to walk normally,” Alexandra said.

  “My dear, you must be grateful to walk at all, whether it be normal or not.”

  “I believe I should attempt to stand by tomorrow. Without weight on the leg, of course.”

  “Certainly not!” Abercrombie said. “You are a physician, and if you received the proper training, you should know a broken leg demands complete bed rest for several weeks.”

  “Of course I know that is the standard procedure,” Alexandra said, sounding defensive, “but my experience has taught me that early, brief attempts at standing help overall health. I’ve also observed that some weight on the leg after a few weeks helps strengthen supporting muscles.”

  “While you are in my care, you will be treated not according to someone’s dubious experiments but by standard and proven medical procedures,” Abercrombie said in a voice devoid of sympathy.

  Alexandra pressed her lips together to keep from arguing, telling herself that the more she protested, the more difficult her stay would be. At the same time, she knew with certainty that her stay would be no longer than a few more hours after dawn arrived.

  “I understand that I am in Foulness,” Alexandra said, hoping a change of subject would diffuse the tension she’d created.

  “You are, indeed.” Abercrombie’s tone was one of superiority.

  “Were you by any chance acquainted with the late George Payne?”

  Abercrombie lifted his chin and nose higher. “Why do you ask?”

  “His daughter, Judith, lives in Newton-upon-Sea.”

  “Indeed she does,” Abercrombie said. “I know her well. Knew her father equally well, if you must know. Tragic! So tragic!”

  “His suicide, you mean,” Nicholas said.

  “My good man, it was most certainly not a suicide,” Abercrombie scolded.

  Nicholas shot Alexandra a quick glance. “Not a suicide?”

  “I have not seen the body, mind you,” Abercrombie said. “It was our local law enforcement who proclaimed the death a suicide, but that was most certainly a mistake. I should have been called. Constables and the like are usually ill trained in such matters, as are some doctors, I might add.”

  “May I ask how you’ve come to this conclusion that it was not suicide? And how your constable came to his conclusion that it was?” Nicholas asked. The questions had come so quickly, Alexandra sensed that he was attempting to make sure she didn’t speak up and cause another argument. She was content to stay out of it if it would hasten her opportunity to leave, and she knew Nicholas would ask all of the questions she would have asked and more. She had his training as a barrister to thank for that.

  “As I said, I knew the family well. George Payne was an honorable man. He would never have stooped to the cowardly act of suicide. He was murdered.”

  “By your own admission, you didn’t see the body,” Nicholas said. “How—”

  Abercrombie raised his voice a decibel higher, “George Payne was a loyal Freemason, a Grand Master. Why, he was even wearing his Masonic apron when he died. Smeared with his own blood, the constable said.” Abercrombie snorted, a derisive sound. “How he came to the conclusion of suicide is beyond me, since there was said to be no wound. The constable claims he took poison and vomited the blood. Rubbish, I say. Complete rubbish. I should have been called to examine the body.”

  Nicholas frowned. “Even his own daughter believes it was suicide.”

  Abercrombie closed his eyes as if he were struggling to be tolerant of the ignorance surrounding him. “His daughter is female. She is, by that very nature, hysterical and unreliable in her judgment. I believe Mr. Payne would have agreed with me on that point. They didn’t get along at all, you know.”

  “Do you know the nature of their disagreements?” Alexandra asked, regretting it when she saw the acrimonious glance Abercrombie shot in her direction.

  “I do, but I refuse to go into detail, since I am not one to gossip. Suffice it to say that young Judith was quite rebellious, a most disagreeable characteristic in any offspring, and particularly a daughter. She insisted upon making all of her own decisions. Everything from what she wore and where she lived to whom she married. Quite like her mother, I believe. In short, the rift between father and daughter was, in this case, quite clearly the daughter’s fault.”

  “Surely you don’t think the disagreement was so severe as to bring about murder,” Nicholas said.

  Abercrombie stared at Nicholas, speechless, for a few seconds before he spoke. “She is unruly, Mr. Forsythe, but she is not insane, and she most certainly could not be a murderess.”

  Alexandra noticed that the doctor had addressed Nicholas as Mr. Forsythe rather than Lord Dunsford. That was obviously the way Nicholas had introduced himself. Nicholas seemed to have a sixth sense as to when the title would serve him and when it would not. He was, nevertheless, unruffled by Abercrombie’s superior manner.

  “Are there others, then, who might be suspect?” Nicholas asked.

  Abercrombie snapped at him, “Of course there are others. Aren’t there always? Brother Payne’s unfortunate financial situation put him in contact with some of those in the seamy side of life, although he himself was from the best of families. One never knows about some classes, does one?”

  “Could you suspect anyone in Newton-upon-Sea?”

  “Perhaps. I know there was…Well, never mind. Almost anyone could be suspect, I suppose. With the exception of most members of the brotherhood, including myself. We are a small lodge, compared to the Ninth Daughter in Newton-upon-Sea, but quite honorable and devoted to each other. Are you a member of the Ninth Daughter, by any chance?”

  “I spend most of my time in London, where I have a law practice,” Nicholas said with careful evasiveness.

  “A solicitor?”

  “Yes,” Nicholas said, not bothering to add that he was also a barrister.

  “Indeed,” Abercrombie said. “Perha
ps you could answer a question I have concerning property I own. There is a minor dispute over a boundary, you see, and…”

  Abercrombie went on to explain a rather complicated matter to Nicholas, seeking his free advice. It was at least an hour later, and Alexandra was growing tired, before he left with an apology that she would have to stay in the examination room overnight since there was no hospital in Foulness.

  “I shall have to find you someone in a private residence who will be willing to take you in,” he said.

  —

  Rob watched as the morning light sifting through the window grew stronger and stronger. He had slept little during the night, but Artie, who shared the sleeping quarters above the Gladstone stables, was sleeping soundly, his arm thrown across the wide expanse of Zack’s back. The dog hadn’t wanted to go up to the stable living quarters at first, but they had finally persuaded him with the help of a sizable and meaty beef bone Rob took from the kitchen. The bone had been cooked in a stew and was still unspoiled and had a few scraps of meat still attached. He’d taken the stew, along with a bit of bread and leftover sausage for himself and Artie.

  Rob was reasonably certain both Nancy and Dr. Gladstone knew he could enter the house at will, even when the door was locked, but they’d never protested because he’d never misused that ability. They knew he’d learned questionable skills, such as how to enter a house undetected, when he was trying to survive on the streets and along the docks of Newton-upon-Sea. That learning experience had begun when he was younger than Artie was now. Nance and the doc knew all about it. Yet both of the women trusted him. He’d never do anything to betray that trust, but he’d never let Zack or Artie go hungry, either.

  Zack hadn’t slept particularly well during the night. All night long, he kept going to the window to look out as if to see whether Nance and the doc were finally home. At least he’d devoured that bone with enthusiasm. A good sign that he was getting over his sick spell, Rob thought. Poisoned, the doc said. Who would do a thing like that? Some no-good bloody bastard, that’s who.