by Emily Organ
The chief inspector mopped his perspiring face with a large handkerchief. By contrast, Mr Kurtz seemed unaffected by the heat.
“A fresh pair of eyes will do no harm, I’m sure,” replied James.
“There are plenty of eyes in this room already,” said Mr Kurtz with a macabre grin.
I wanted to warn James not to look too closely at the contents of some of the jars.
“I see no need for a news reporter to attend,” said Inspector Stroud, glaring at me.
“Miss Green and I have worked together a number of times in the past,” said James. “She has a knack for spotting important details.”
“Perhaps she does, but it is not appropriate for her to be present.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, this is indicative of how the Metropolitan Force conducts itself these days.”
“I don’t mind Miss Green being present,” added Mr Kurtz with a grin.
James ignored both comments and readied himself with a notebook and pencil.
“Mr Geller was found murdered on Tuesday the seventeenth of June,” he said. “How was his mood on that morning, Mr Kurtz?”
“The same as on any other morning. He was perfectly pleasant and busied himself as usual. I’ve already answered more questions than I care to recall, Inspector. Must I answer more?”
“I’m afraid so,” replied James. “What did Mr Geller’s work entail that morning?”
“Now just a moment, Blakely,” interrupted Inspector Stroud. “You’ve begun your questions and this reporter is still in the room. I want her out!”
“You can rely on my discretion, Chief Inspector Stroud,” I said. “I won’t report on anything Mr Kurtz tells Inspector Blakely.”
“Then why the devil are you here?”
“Miss Green’s editor has asked her to report on this case,” said James. “Therefore, it’s important that she knows the details. You can trust her not to report on anything which would compromise the investigation.”
“It’s not right,” huffed the chief inspector. “Not right at all.”
Mr Kurtz wearily explained to James the work Mr Geller had been doing that morning and which table he had stood at.
“Mr Geller was standing where you are now when you left the room for a short while. Is that right, Mr Kurtz?” asked James.
“Yes.” Mr Kurtz loitered beside the table where the skulls had sat during my last visit.
“And what time was that?”
“About a quarter to twelve o’clock.”
“How can you be sure about that? Did you look at your watch or a clock just before you left?”
“I often look at the clock up there,” Mr Kurtz pointed to a large timepiece near the spiral staircase. “I can’t say I checked it just before I left, but I glance at it regularly throughout the day because I like to keep an eye on the time.”
“Is it possible that it could have been half-past eleven o’clock when you left the room?”
“No, I’m certain that it was after that.”
“Could it already have been midday?”
“No, because I returned to the room shortly after midday.”
“So is it safe to assume, Mr Kurtz, that you were out of the room between, shall we say twenty minutes to twelve and five minutes past twelve? Is that a reasonable suggestion?”
“Yes.”
James wrote the times down.
“And what were your parting words to Mr Geller?”
“Something along the lines of ‘I’m going to see Mr Daly for a few minutes.’ Words to that effect.”
“Did he reply?”
“He acknowledged me with a nod.”
“And that was the last time you saw him alive?”
“Yes.” Mr Kurtz nodded solemnly.
“And when you left the room you had no concerns about him or the situation whatsoever?”
“No, why would I? It was an entirely normal situation. It was an ordinary morning.”
“Where did you go?”
“I went to see Mr Daly.”
“And who is he?”
“The assistant surgeon. I wished to speak to him about the curriculum for topographical anatomy so that Mr Geller and I could make the relevant specimens available to the students.”
“And Mr Daly can vouch for having seen you, can he?”
“Sadly no, as he wasn’t in his office.”
“You knocked at the door and there was no reply?”
“Yes. I even opened the door and peered in, but the room was empty.”
“Did anyone see you visiting his office?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Who did you encounter on your way to and from his office?”
“I honestly don’t think I can remember.” Mr Kurtz scratched his temple. His previously pale face now had some colour to it.
“You didn’t stop to talk to anyone on the way there or back?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Did you encounter anyone at all?”
“Yes, I must have passed people in the corridor.”
“And some of them would have been familiar to you?”
“Yes, I should think many of them would have been. I don’t necessarily know everyone’s names, but I would recognise their faces.”
“There was no one who looked out of place? No one appeared suspicious?”
“You mean the murderer?”
James shrugged. “Anyone who didn’t look quite right to you.”
Mr Kurtz shook his head.
“Chief Inspector Stroud,” said James. “Was the ligature present on Mr Geller’s body when he was found?”
“Yes. It was a length of thick twine.”
“Do you have any idea where it came from?”
“How should I know where it might have come from?”
“It wasn’t from somewhere inside this room? Or somewhere else on the premises?”
“No, I don’t think so. I suspect the murderer was carrying it on his person,” Chief Inspector Stroud said.
“That suggests a strong degree of premeditation,” said James. “So at some time during the twenty-five-minute window while you were out of the room, Mr Kurtz, someone came in and strangled Richard Geller with a thick piece of twine.”
“That appears to be what happened.”
“Where does that door behind you lead to?”
“It’s the storeroom, Inspector.”
“Is any twine kept in there?”
“No. I didn’t recognise the twine around Richard’s neck. The murderer must have brought it with him, as Inspector Stroud said.”
“Chief Inspector Stroud, have you spoken to anyone who witnessed Mr Kurtz on his journey to and from Mr Daly’s office?” asked James.
“Not yet.”
“How long does it take to walk from here to Mr Daly’s office?”
“I don’t think I have ever paid attention,” replied Mr Kurtz.
“One minute? Ten minutes?”
“Somewhere between the two.”
“And you went straight there and came immediately back again?”
“Yes.”
“We’ve already determined that you were out of the room for about twenty-five minutes, Mr Kurtz. That suggests the walk to Mr Daly’s office takes a little over twelve minutes. Is that right?”
“A twelve-minute walk? That’s quite a distance,” I said. “About half a mile, I should think.”
“It must take less time than that,” said Mr Kurtz. “Perhaps I have my timings wrong. Perhaps I returned to the room just before midday.”
“We’ll walk the route in a moment and time it for ourselves,” said James.
Mr Kurtz rubbed his hand over his chin nervously.
“Chief Inspector Stroud, at what time were the police summoned here?” asked James.
“We first heard of the incident at twenty minutes past midday.”
“I ran down to the lobby as quickly as I could,” explained Mr Kurtz. “I asked the man at the desk to summon the p
olice.”
“Mr Kurtz, did anyone visit this room while you and Mr Geller were working here on that fateful morning?”
“Some students came in, I think.”
“And what time was that?”
“I struggle to remember precisely. About ten o’clock, I should think.”
“If it was ten o’clock, as you suggest,” James continued, “and we can find the students to confirm it, that leaves us with more than two hours between their visit and the police being alerted. During that time we have only your word for what occurred.”
Mr Kurtz’s eyes widened. “I hope you’re not suggesting that I had anything to do with this, Inspector. I’ve just told you everything that happened and it’s the truth. Upon my honour!”
Chapter 17
“I believe the man,” said Chief Inspector Stroud defensively. “He is not responsible for the murder of his colleague.”
“Good,” replied James. “And there is nothing to suggest at this moment that Mr Kurtz is a dishonourable man who caused his friend some mischief. However, what you’re lacking, Mr Kurtz, is a corroborated alibi. Let me suggest that you re-enact the walk you took that morning and think extremely hard about anyone you may have encountered on the way to Mr Daly’s office, and on your return journey. Those people could be extremely helpful for you, and they may also have seen the culprit without realising it. We also need to find out which students visited this room and what time they were here. And anyone else for that matter. Please think as hard as you possibly can, Mr Kurtz, otherwise you may find yourself in hot water.”
“It’s a bit rough, isn’t it, Blakely, to treat the man in this way?” said Chief Inspector Stroud. “He found the body of his colleague on the floor!”
“You don’t need me to tell you that we must be as thorough as possible, Chief Inspector Stroud. Can you show me where Mr Geller’s body was found?”
“In the place where Mr Kurtz is standing now.”
“So Mr Geller died in the place where he was working?” asked James.
“Yes.”
This struck me as odd.
“Surely if a man entered the room with murderous intent Mr Geller would have tried to get away,” I interjected.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you?” said James. “He would have made an attempt to either defend himself or escape. Perhaps he knew his assailant.”
“Even so, there must have been an altercation of some sort shortly before the murder,” I said. “I can’t imagine that Mr Geller would have remained standing exactly where he was.”
“Perhaps he didn’t notice the intruder,” suggested Chief Inspector Stroud.
“But he was standing facing the door,” said James. “I take it this door offers the only way in and out of the room?”
“It does,” nodded Mr Kurtz. “Perhaps he was too engrossed in his work.”
“Too engrossed to notice a man enter the room and move close enough to strangle him with a length of twine?” asked James. “Did he often get that caught up with his work, Mr Kurtz?”
Mr Kurtz sighed. “Probably not. That would be rather difficult to miss, wouldn’t it?”
“If you were moving around the room, Mr Kurtz, Mr Geller presumably wouldn’t have paid you too much attention. You would have been able to sneak up close to him without him flinching.”
“I didn’t do it, Inspector!” His face coloured again. “Why should I kill Richard?”
“I don’t know,” replied James. “But can you see how imperative it is that you find people to confirm your alibi and ask them to speak to Chief Inspector Stroud or myself? I’m sure Chief Inspector Stroud and his men are happy to look for anyone who might have seen you that morning. Isn’t that right, Chief Inspector Stroud?”
“If it’s to help him escape the clutches of the Yard, then yes, I am!” said Inspector Stroud defiantly.
“Good. Now then, Mr Kurtz, please show us the route you took to Mr Daly’s office that morning,” said James.
Half an hour later, James and I left the hospital and walked down to Cheapside. We passed a cab driver sloshing a bucket of water over his horse to cool it.
“Do you agree that this case seems rather odd?” said James. “Two minutes! That’s how long it takes to walk to Mr Daly’s office from the medical museum. What was Mr Kurtz doing for twenty-five minutes?”
“What was he doing in general that morning? He has no one who can vouch for him at all.”
“Exactly. That gives us an even longer period of time during which we have no idea what happened. And Richard would surely have moved from his position when the murderer entered the room. I cannot see why he would have remained standing there. If he fell where he was standing someone must have surprised him, and the only person I can think of who could have got close enough to him without arousing his suspicion is Mr Kurtz.”
“Unless the murderer had an accomplice,” I suggested.
“How would that have made a difference?”
“Perhaps one man kept him talking and the other managed to sneak up on him.”
“But both would have had to walk through the door, and then he would have seen them,” said James. “This case is rather confusing, and I’m sure that Mr Kurtz is hiding something from us.”
Chapter 18
As I walked toward The Holborn Restaurant to meet Mrs Fish and Mrs Maynell, I reflected on my conversation with Jack Copeland a few days’ previously. He had been surprisingly calm while discussing his colleague’s death. In fact, I had detected very little emotion at all. Could it be possible that he had written the letter tucked into Simon Borthwick’s book? I wished I had asked him more about Hugo Bannister. Perhaps the man had been a friend of his.
Mr Edwards had told me that a search of the reading room’s records had revealed a few members with the surname Bannister. However, it wouldn’t be easy to ascertain whether any of them had a connection with the late inventor.
“Miss Green!” Georgina Fish greeted me warmly as I met her inside the restaurant, her dark curls bouncing around her face. “How lovely to see you again. Please meet my good friend, Lillian Maynell.”
Lillian smiled warily. She was several years my junior and wore a pale rose dress made of silk. Her hair was pinned beneath an elegant cream-coloured summer hat with silk flowers on it.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Maynell,” I said. “I met you briefly with your husband in the engine room at the Crystal Palace.”
“Oh yes, I recall that now,” she replied with a smile.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” I said as I sat down.
“Do call me Lillian. I must say I’m not keen on the idea of speaking to a press reporter, but George persuaded me.”
“George?” I asked.
“That’s me!” replied Georgina with a laugh. “Lily has always called me George.”
“You’re not going to publish anything I say, are you, Miss Green?” asked Lillian.
“No, of course not.”
“That’s reassuring.”
“Edgar tells me you know each other from your school days,” I said.
“Yes,” replied Lillian. “Charlbury Gate School, wasn’t it, George? It was a school for the daughters of clergymen run by Miss Hobhouse, who was terribly strict. I didn’t like her at all.”
“No one did,” added Georgina. “We tried to liven the place up a bit, didn’t we?”
Lillian chuckled. “Oh, I don’t know about that.”
“There were a few pranks.” Georgina giggled.
“Miss Green doesn’t want to hear about pranks!” scolded Lillian with a smile on her face. The two women appeared to have regressed into giggling schoolgirls.
“You, me and Catherine Preston,” said Georgina.
“Oh, Catherine was the worst of the three,” said Lillian. “Let’s blame her because she isn’t here to defend herself!”
“Do you remember putting a spider in Mary Baring’s desk?” said Georgina.
“That w
as because she kept tripping me up in ballet class.”
“And you splashed ink all over Elizabeth Turner’s dress!”
“That was Catherine, not me.”
“She did it because you asked her to. Catherine always did everything you asked.”
Lillian laughed. “I suppose she did, didn’t she? Perhaps it was her motherless upbringing. But I had to have my revenge on Elizabeth Turner because she started the rumour that I had six toes,” said Lillian. “Even today some people believe I have six toes.” Lillian turned to me. “My apologies, Miss Green. I worry that you have altogether the wrong impression of me now.”
“Miss Green should know that you always did well in your school work, Lily. You were a good scholar,” said Georgina. “I learned nothing at all during my schooling.”
“I wasn’t that much of a scholar.”
“Now you’re being modest, Lily. Of course you were. You were the only one who could commit all those French verbs to memory.”
“My mind has always been good at retaining useless information,” replied Lillian.
“My mind is no good at that,” said Georgina. “In fact, I’m not sure mine does anything much at all. Ask Lily about her capital cities, Penny. She still knows all her capital cities.”
“Miss Green has better things to do than ask me about capital cities George.”
“You remind me of a friend of mine who works in the British Library, Lillian,” I said. “He has a great memory for facts.”
“Now that’s a job I should like to do,” said Lillian. “Working in a library would be far more interesting than being a wife, don’t you think, George?”
“No, I don’t think it would,” replied Georgina. “Libraries are dull places. Besides, you’ll be kept very busy when you have children.”
“I’m not sure that I shall be blessed with children,” said Lillian. “And that’s something I’m rather happy about.”
“But children are dear little things!” protested Georgina.
“There’s nothing dear about my nieces and nephews. They are noisy and time-consuming,” said Lillian. “Would you like to have children, Miss Green?”
“I’m not sure that my mind is made up on the matter,” I replied. “But I think I’ve probably made the decision not to now. I chose to become a news reporter instead.”