Lethal Remedies

by M. Louisa Locke

  This morning, he’d told her how he’d embarrassed himself by falling asleep in Miss Sutton’s carriage the day before. Turned it into a funny story about the look on her face when he woke himself up with a loud snore. He’d made Ella laugh, which was a miracle, given how exhausted she’d been. The man still annoyed her, or maybe it was envy that he didn’t take life as seriously as she did. But she was also beginning to see that behind the often clownish behavior was a kind heart.

  She opened the door before he had time to ring the bell, and ten minutes later, as she watched how he wolfed down the sandwich Megs had brought him, Ella told him all about what she had learned from Sergeant Thompson about Dr. Granger’s death.

  She concluded by saying, “What I am afraid of is that there is some connection between the failure of McFadyn and his female accomplice to extract Hilda yesterday, and the murder of Dr. Granger the same night. And if that is so, it seems to be very possible that McFadyn might be coming for you next. If that kitchen maid, Brenda, is indeed the one who has been working with McFadyn, what if she told him that you come here from work every night around this time? What’s to stop him from waiting in the dark and killing you?”

  Mitchell laughed and said in a mocking tone, “Well, Dr. Blair, I do declare, I’m touched that you’re worried about little old me. Seems to me you would be relieved that, with my demise, there’d be fewer physicians for you to compete with in the city. Didn’t you read the latest issue of the Pacific Medical and Surgical Journal? There was a whole article by Dr. Granger, the younger, on the crisis in the profession that was due to the overabundance of practitioners in large urban areas, including San Francisco. You don’t think Dr. Granger, the elder, was bumped off by some young man who is angry that his medical diploma from the Medical College of the Pacific wasn’t worth a plate of beans.”

  “Martin Mitchell, what a terrible thing to say,” Ella said. “Dr. Granger’s death was a tragedy, and I can’t believe you would make a joke about it. I’m sorry I wasted a moment of concern for your welfare. Now, if you’ll excuse me, it’s been a long day.”

  As she stomped up the stairs to the attic, nursing her fury, she abruptly remembered the thought she’d had yesterday, that Dr. Harrison Granger was angry at his father because he wasn’t willing to step aside and let his son step into the limelight. Afterwards, she’d felt bad about even mentioning this altercation to Sergeant Thompson. However, could Mitchell’s joke, in bad taste as it was, have held a kernel of truth? Could Harrison Granger’s desire to take over his father’s practice have been motivation enough to take his father’s life?

  Chapter 42

  Thursday afternoon, March 9, 1882

  Pacific Dispensary for Women and Children

  * * *

  As Annie stepped down from the horse car, she pulled her scarf more closely around her neck. The cold damp wind certainly reinforced the old adage that March came “in like a lion.” She was looking forward to the “out like a lamb” stage so she could take more long walks with Abigail and get some strength back.

  She supposed, though, if you counted the steps she’d been taking the past few days as she walked around the house with Abigail on her shoulder, she might have traveled miles. Turned out that when her daughter was teething, her preferred method of distraction was being carried around, looking out windows, or watching as Kathleen and Tilly went about their work.

  This morning, however, Abigail seemed her usual cheerful self, happily sitting at Annie’s feet and banging on the floor with a wooden spoon until her morning nap. As a result, Annie had been able to finish writing up her monthly reports for several of her clients on the current status of their investments.

  The door to the dispensary was opened by Ella Blair, who took Annie’s scarf and coat, hung them up in the hall, and ushered her into the office where two chairs and a table containing a tea service were arranged in front of the fireplace.

  Annie sat down, grateful for the warmth.

  As Ella poured them tea, the young doctor said, “I hope that your daughter is feeling better today. I can’t tell you the number of times a mother has come to me in tears after several nights up with a colicky or teething child. The problem is that they tend to give their children home remedies or patent medicine containing laudanum, alcohol, and sometimes even mercury, all of which can compromise the child’s health.”

  “You’re saying that often your patients end up accidentally poisoning their own children? If that is true, wouldn’t it be hard to prove that Mrs. Truscott was poisoned on purpose?”

  Ella sighed. “Yes, and to be honest, I hope it does turn out that Richard Truscott or his aunt simply administered the wrong dose of something Dr. Skerry left in their possession. This is what Phoebe Truscott wants to believe. Who blames her? She loves her husband very much. She may be angry that he didn’t take her seriously when she said something she had been eating or drinking was making her sick, but the last thing she wants to consider is that he might have been deliberately trying to make her ill.”

  “Has she heard anything more from him since he showed up on Tuesday?”

  “Oh, yes, he wrote a very conciliatory letter to her the next morning and apologized for his outburst. I believe they have been writing back and forth since then.”

  Putting her cup down, Annie said, “How is Mrs. Truscott’s health?”

  “She’s improving rapidly, starting to hold down solid food, which has helped her increase in strength.”

  “And Hilda and the baby?”

  “The baby is doing well, and Hilda isn’t showing any signs of postpartum infection. But she hasn’t been willing to discuss who the woman was who tried to lure her away.”

  “Hopefully she’ll be more forthcoming with Kathleen when she comes with me tomorrow. How did Phoebe and Hilda respond to the news of Dr. Granger’s death?”

  “Hilda started sobbing when we told her. She said that she’d be dead if he and his daughter hadn’t rescued her. She’s decided to call her boy Harry in Dr. Granger’s honor.”

  “Oh, my, how lovely. And Phoebe, how’s she taking the news?”

  “Devastated. Thankfully, Hilda’s baby has been a healthy distraction, for everyone.”

  “It is hard to dwell on death around a new baby,” Annie said. “But how are you holding up?”

  The young doctor looked away and said fiercely, “Mostly, I’m angry. Dr. Granger was in his late seventies and had lived a long and useful life, so if he’d died of natural causes, I would simply be sad. However, I find the idea intolerable that someone purposely cut short his life.”

  Annie knew what Ella meant. By the time she was Ella’s age, she’d already lost her mother, her father, and her first husband to death. Yet it had been the murder of her first business client, Matthew Voss, that she’d not been able to let go of until she understood why he’d died.

  She reached over and squeezed Ella’s hand and said, “Then we need to do all we can to help Sergeant Thompson discover who killed him.”

  “Do you think that it could have been Charlie McFadyn?”

  “Thompson is certainly looking at him as a possible suspect. The man has a history of violence and a possible grudge against Dr. Granger for getting Hilda safely into the dispensary. Is Martin Mitchell still planning on staying here nights when he gets off work?”

  “Yes, he insists on doing so. But I’m going to ask Dr. Brown to authorize the money to pay for a night guard as long as Hilda is with us.”

  Annie noticed how Ella had stiffened at her question and wondered if Mitchell had done something to upset the young doctor.

  She said, “That makes sense, especially since Mitchell can’t be here in the early evenings, which was when that woman tried to get at Hilda. Do you have any idea how long you will be able to keep Hilda with you?”

  “Given her young age, health, and the fact that the baby is underweight, we would normally try to keep them at least another week, if not two. But as to what will happen afterwards, p
articularly given the threat McFadyn poses, I don’t know. It’s not like we can treat her and her baby as we have Jocko and let them stay indefinitely. Dr. Granger was going to look into finding a safe place for them, but now… Oh, Mrs. Dawson, it’s so unfair that someone would take the life of such a good person.”

  “I know. At least Dr. Granger’s death has prompted Sergeant Thompson to speed up the analysis of the porridge that Joan brought you to see if it contains anything that could have been detrimental to Mrs. Truscott’s health.”

  “Does this mean he’s decided there might be a connection between Dr. Granger’s death and Phoebe’s poisoning?” Ella said, looking even more distressed.

  “Oh, no, that’s not what I meant,” Annie said quickly. “Thompson hasn’t made any determination about who caused Dr. Granger’s death. He simply felt it was easier to justify looking into the question of whether Phoebe Truscott had been poisoned, given that there is a relationship between her and Dr. Granger, who was murdered.”

  Ella said, “I guess what worries me is that on Monday, when he was here, Richard Truscott directed most of his anger at Dr. Granger. In fact, right before he left the dispensary, he said something to the effect that he would get his wife back ‘using whatever methods are necessary.’ At the time, I thought this might refer to him suing the dispensary or maybe sending another of those anonymous letters you told me about to the newspapers. But now?”

  “You think that he might have been so angry he went to Dr. Granger’s office the next evening and killed him?”

  Ella shook her head. “When you say it like that, it seems improbable. How would killing Dr. Granger have done anything to get his wife to leave the dispensary and come home to him?”

  “I agree that doesn’t sound like the actions of a sane man.”

  “What if he simply went to see Dr. Granger to try and get him to talk to Phoebe on his behalf? Then he lost his temper and lashed out, with no intention of killing him?”

  “That is possible.” Annie didn’t mention that the number of blows the doctor sustained suggested more than a simple loss of temper, not wanting to reveal any of the specific details Thompson had shared.

  Ella continued. “I hate to think that Mr. Truscott could be involved. But if there is any possibility he is the killer, that makes the likelihood that he has been trying to poison his wife even greater. Then, what if he persuades Phoebe to come home?”

  “Would you like me to speak with her?” Annie said.

  “Oh, would you? I’ve asked her to try walking up and down the stairs. You could take her downstairs to the dining room, have some privacy. Do you have time?”

  “Yes, I’ll be glad to talk to her, see if I can get a feel for her intentions. But you know, your first instinct that Truscott’s threat might be a reference to sending another anonymous letter is even more likely to be true, because the next day, another letter did show up at the Chronicle.”

  Ella put down the tea cup she’d just picked up and stared at Annie in concern. “Another letter came?”

  Annie nodded. “I’m afraid so. This second letter specifically mentioned the Pacific Dispensary and its financial problems.”

  “Maybe Mr. Truscott thought that if the newspapers wrote bad things about the dispensary, his wife would believe him and come home.”

  “That’s certainly possible. On the other hand, the person who sent the letter could have been Dr. Skerry. Thompson asked me to hand over the letter that Richard Truscott sent to the dispensary so he could compare it to the letter sent to the Chronicle. I didn’t think it served any purpose to keep it from him, since he knew the contents. I hope that Dr. Brown won’t be upset that I did so.”

  Ella sighed. “I’m sure she will be all right with whatever you’ve done. I will be so relieved when Dr. Brown and Dr. Wanzer get back tonight, but they will be devastated when they learn about Dr. Granger.”

  Annie agreed, saying, “The financial problems that Mrs. Branting’s resignation caused pale in comparison to the tragedy of Dr. Granger’s death.”

  What Annie didn’t say was how worried she was that Thompson’s interest in the anonymous letters might lead him, or the Chronicle reporters, to investigate whether there was any truth to the idea that the doctors at the dispensary had been involved in illegal or unwarranted medical procedures. She had every confidence that this was a totally unfounded and malicious charge. However, she’d also learned that humans had a distressing habit of believing that, where there was smoke, there was fire.

  “Mrs. Truscott, thank you for agreeing to meet with me while Dr. Blair examines Hilda and her baby,” Annie said, pulling out a chair for the young woman. “You’re sure you will be comfortable here in the dining room?”

  “Oh, yes. Dr. Blair has encouraged me to start moving around more. You saw how winded I was just going down two flights of stairs. Pitiful, I know. But I am determined to regain all my strength back, no matter how long it takes.”

  Annie noticed that Phoebe’s voice, while still a bit rough, was much stronger.

  Fortunately, the dining room was currently empty, this being the time when the patients were supposed to be back in their rooms for afternoon rounds. And, for once, Phoebe’s servant, Joan, was occupied elsewhere, so Annie had a chance to talk to Phoebe alone.

  After pouring tea for both Phoebe and herself and bringing a plateful of delicious looking apple tarts to the table, Annie said, “I must say you are looking a good deal better than you were when I saw you on Monday.”

  “It’s hard for me to accept that I’ve been here less than a week, and I already feel so much healthier. That’s what I have been trying to explain to my husband.”

  “Dr. Blair mentioned you have been corresponding with him.”

  “Yes, several letters a day. It’s strange, but I feel as if I am getting to know him better than I ever did. As if in the privacy of our correspondence, we can be more honest with each other. Does that make sense?”

  Annie nodded, thinking about the story Phoebe had shared of her whirlwind romance, the honeymoon spent on a crowded train west, and then the arrival in San Francisco to live with Richard’s Aunt Ruby, and her servant, Joan.

  She said, probably more emphatically than was polite, “Between Joan and your husband’s aunt, it’s as if you and your husband have spent most of your marriage living in the same house with a set of mothers-in-law.”

  Phoebe looked startled then laughed. “I hadn’t quite thought of it that way, but yes. Except for the summer we first met, both women have been with us continuously. I know I always worry about what Aunt Ruby thinks of me, she loves Richard so. But it never occurred to me that Richard might feel the same way about Joan.”

  Annie said, “I quite love my mother-in-law, but I don’t know if I would ever be comfortable living under the same roof. I also know that when he was courting me three years ago, Nate grumbled that he’d had to prove he was worthy to be my husband to my housekeeper Mrs. O’Rourke, my servant Kathleen, and to all of my boarders.”

  Phoebe laughed again and said, “Talking to you does me such good. All the women I’ve met since I arrived in San Francisco were more Richard’s friends than mine. And while they were welcoming, I know they didn’t understand what my ill-health has cost me—and him.”

  Annie said, “I know you were angry that your husband didn’t believe you when you said you thought your illness was due to something you ate or drank. Has this correspondence between the two of you changed things?”

  “Yes, he’s apologized for not taking me seriously, and I’ve forgiven him. I understand now he was just reacting out of fear as he saw my health slip away again.”

  Annie’s first husband used to apologize all the time, and she didn’t know how many times she’d forgiven him. What if Phoebe’s husband was doing the same thing? She wanted so much to tell the young woman not to trust her husband, that she could still be in danger if she returned home. But she knew she wouldn’t gain anything by saying this. Not if Phoeb
e was determined to find her husband innocent of any wrong-doing.

  Instead, she said, “I can understand how frightening your illness must have been for him. Does he now accept that the dispensary doctors were not to blame and that you made the right decision to come leave home and come here for treatment?”

  Phoebe frowned and said slowly, “I think so. I mean, he did say that perhaps I had reacted badly to something that Dr. Skerry gave me, and he was wrong to accept his aunt’s insistence that none of the homeopathic medicines I was given could possibly be at fault.”

  “What did he mean, you reacted badly? I know Dr. Blair explained to you that if you had ingested a normal dose of regular homeopathic medicine, it should have been so diluted that there was no possibility of it harming you.”

  Phoebe played with one of the tarts she had taken from the plate and said, “Yes, she did explain that to me. And I’m not saying I agree with Richard about what happened. However, I understand why he is reluctant to admit to himself, much less to me, that he or his aunt might have made a mistake and given me too large a dose of medicine that could have killed me.”

  “What about Dr. Skerry? Do you think your husband would entertain the possibility that if you were given the wrong dose of something, she might be the culprit, accidentally or on purpose?”

  “I do think that he’s worried about this possibility, and you know, that is my suspicion. But he wrote to me that he doesn’t want to upset his aunt, so it would be better to just drop the subject.”

  Phoebe frowned. “Richard feels he owes his aunt so much, for sacrificing any chance of marriage for herself, in order to raise him. Yet…”

  “You feel that your wishes should come first?”

  “Yes, I do!” Phoebe said. “Especially over something as important as my health and well-being. Am I wrong to believe that?”

  “No, and I can assure you that you won’t be the first wife who has struggled with this sort of question. Did you try talking directly to your husband’s aunt about your concerns about Dr. Skerry?”