Part 11 (1/2)

*But she had a weak heart.'

*All the more likely to make her succ.u.mb to disease.'

Short of wrestling the key from him by force, and I had no expectation of winning such a battle, there was nothing to be done. I made my way back down to the saloon and Bertram.

*'Course, if she is dead,' said George, *we will 'ave to call in the police. But we'll keep it as quiet as we can for both your sakes and the hotel's.'

My heart sunk down into my boots. Yet again Bertram's name and mine would be connected with sudden death. It would be a wonder if we weren't carted away by the police on the spot. However, I knew that any plea on my behalf to circ.u.mvent procedure would only bring suspicion down on both our heads, so I nodded, took a deep breath and went in to comfort Bertram.

He was not as I feared inebriated. The decanter George had generously provided stood untouched on the small table before him. In his hand he held a gla.s.s, but it was barely lower than a full measure. He looked up at me with the blank, startled stare I had seen on all too many faces of those recently bereaved in my father's parish. My heart stung. He must have cared deeply for her despite the short time they had had together.

*She said the doctor had been,' he said. *She said he told her to rest and she would be fine. I'd never have left her alone if ...' He struggled to continue.

I patted his arm awkwardly. *No doubt she was trying to rea.s.sure you. She didn't want you to worry.'

*But it doesn't make sense. She didn't lie. She never lied to me.'

Now was not the time to a.s.sert my suspicions over Beatrice's motivations, but I could not resist saying, *You were deep in one another's confidence, weren't you?' I tried to make it sound comforting, but I knew I was taking advantage.

*She told me everything,' said Bertram, finally taking a swig of his drink. *I could, of course, never return the compliment. What you and I know, Euphemia. I had to keep her at arm's length ... With a family like mine, I couldn't take advantage of her innocence.'

*You mean ... Oh dear G.o.d, this changes everything. I've been so stupid.'

*Changes what?'

I considered for a moment. Was now the right time to raise my suspicions after all? It might make Bertram think a little less of me, but it would divert him. Only such a short acquaintance I strongly doubted that they had been in love. Although Bertram ever one to leap into situations with pa.s.sion and lack of thought might well fancy it was so. It might also lead him into a devastating expression of grief. I took a deep breath. *I thought you might have told her about your brother. From the questions she asked I thought perhaps you might be considering attempting to get him committed. Before he did any more harm,' I added.

*Do you think I'm a fool, Euphemia? Even if Beatrice was no more than a gossip columnist with aspirations she would be unable to let such a story pa.s.s her by regardless of her personal feelings. Print was in her blood.'

*But she hinted to me that she knew.'

*Of course she hinted. Journalists always hint they know more than they do. It's remarkably effective at getting people to be indiscreet.'

*Oh,' I said. When he was in one of his pa.s.sions it was easy for me to forget that Bertram knew far more of the world than I, but every now and then he would remind me to shocking effect. On the positive side Bertram was now looking a lot more alert. He put his gla.s.s down.

*But her questions at the asylum. It was as if she was trying to provoke them.'

*I don't know the whole story. She only told me that she had strong suspicions and would feel safer with me around while she investigated.'

*Did she make notes?'

*Of course she did! Well done, Euphemia! They'll be in her room.' He stood up.

*Her room is locked.'

*But I have a key,' said Bertram pulling it from his pocket with a flourish.

*Put that away,' I said harshly, pulling down his arm.

*I suppose it does give the wrong impression,' said Bertram. *But Beatrice had an abnormal horror of hotel fires. She only locked her room when she retired. She wanted me to have a key in case anything happened. Made me promise I'd rescue her.' He swallowed and reached for his gla.s.s.

A chill swept over me. *But her room was locked,' I said. *She would lock it if she was resting, wouldn't she?'

*No,' said Bertram. *Only when she retired for the night.'

*The other doctor,' I began.

*You think there was one?' said Bertram.

*I am beginning to fear so.'

*Good gad! I can't believe it. I know we've had some extraordinary experiences, but not every death has to be murder, Euphemia. Some people do die natural deaths.'

Bertram handed me his gla.s.s and I took a sip of the fiery liquid. I choked slightly. *We have had more than our share of bad luck,' I said.

*I'm rather afraid the police will agree with you.'

We sat in silence for a few minutes. *I should contact her family,' said Bertram finally. *I don't know what I will say to them.'

*I should ask to speak to her father,' I said. *Her mother would be too distressed. They know of her heart condition, so although they will be naturally grief-stricken it will not be entirely unexpected.'

*What about our suspicions?'

*I wouldn't mention anything until we know.'

Bertram paled. *And the arrangements?'

*Her family will want to take charge.'

*I shall offer any a.s.sistance in my power,' said Bertram.

*Of course.'

His face fell. *But I have no idea of what I can do.'

I took a large swallow of Bertram's drink, handed him back the gla.s.s and stood up, *But I do. I'm going to see Mr Edward.'

*What?'

*He gave me a contact address in London in case I ever needed it.'

*But, Euphemia, this is hardly security of the realm stuff!'

*I don't know what it is. But his words were if anything untoward begins again at Stapleford Hall they would be keen to be made aware.'

*But Beatrice's death has nothing to do with Mrs Wilson's attack.'

*Doesn't it?'

*How could it?'