Part 12 (2/2)

”To the curious incident of the mouth,” said Owens.

”There was nothing in the mouth.”

”That was the curious incident,” remarked the doctor.

Dunne did not understand.

The doctor explained, ”The deceased's mouth lining and tongue contain dissipated traces of the poison. Most of these traces have been deposited by the pa.s.sage and residue of vomit-you will remember her retching in the green room? Now, why did I charge you to recall the fact that Madame's face had the shriveled and puckered look a.s.sociated with cholera-if I also told you that the disease was not involved?”

From the patterer, no response.

So the doctor, slightly irritated by his companion's inability to match his mind, continued. ”What is now missing from Madame's appearance, her image as you remember her? And I remind you again of the collapsed face.”

Dunne recalled the vivacious, always smiling woman, then he said suddenly, almost shouting, ”Teeth! She has no teeth! But how so?”

”Because,” said Owens, ”I have them!” In the dramatic manner of a prestidigitator, he whipped away a cloth from a small mound on a side table. Revealed was a set of artificial teeth for the upper and lower jaws. have them!” In the dramatic manner of a prestidigitator, he whipped away a cloth from a small mound on a side table. Revealed was a set of artificial teeth for the upper and lower jaws.

”I did not know she had such teeth,” said the patterer.

”Neither did I,” said the doctor. ”Until, that is, I found them beside the commode on which she had been sitting. She obviously took them out when she first called for the bowl, and at the time we were all too busy to notice her putting them down. I only collected them just as we were heading off to the hospital.”

Nicodemus Dunne looked at the gleaming teeth, grim ghosts of Madame's smile, now vanished forever. He had never before thought to study such things closely. They were rare; only the rich could afford them. He knew that some supposedly were made of wood-that most famous American, George Was.h.i.+ngton, was reputed to have had a wooden set-but there were people who said that wood was too fragile for the purpose. He did know that some teeth were carved from whalebone. The best though-if the most ghoulish-were sets made using real teeth taken from the dead.

Dragging himself back to the present situation, the patterer said, ”That's all very interesting, but what is the particular significance of the teeth?”

Owens smiled, obviously well pleased with himself. ”Before I cleaned the teeth to their current presentable state, I examined their surfaces.”

”So?”

”So they were free of any toxin-bearing vomit.”

Dunne did not want to say ”So?” again and further show his ignorance. He remained silent.

”It proves,” said the doctor-rather smugly, the patterer thought-”that no toxic substance pa.s.sed in through Madame Greene's mouth while she wore her teeth-and that would be all her waking hours. Yet inside she was stewed with evidence of the a.r.s.enic that killed her. Thus the improbable conclusion, which must be the truth, is that somehow she was murdered!”

A trick of the light made Madame's teeth seem to smile. She was no soldier, but was the similar death of The Ox somehow linked to hers?

It was not until the patterer had left Dr. Owens and his sad charge that he wondered why, if Elsie could be regarded as trustworthy on the matter of food and drink, the doctor could doubt her story of the proffered lozenge.

Dr. Owens was widely known for his habit of offering the sweets to everyone, including Dunne. And he admitted to dosing Madame. Earlier, too, something about Owens had engaged the young man's imagination. But then he shook his head. If the doctor were in any way connected with the fat lady's death, he would hardly have tried so hard to save her and then have announced, when he could have said it was accident or suicide, that it was murder.

Still, Dunne now half-heartedly entered Owens's name on his list of ”Persons of Interest.”

And the patterer decided it would do no harm to have a further talk with Elsie.

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BUT THAT INTERVIEW never eventuated.

By the end of the day after Madame Greene's death, Elsie, too, lay dead. She was found in a shed behind the wh.o.r.ehouse. Her wrists were slashed and a b.l.o.o.d.y knife lay beside her body.

Captain Rossi took control of the case, but had to agree that it seemed a clear case of suicide while in a state of despair over the death of her mistress. Out of respect for the two women, he made sure that their full relations.h.i.+p was left out of the report to the coroner.

At least, Dunne and the captain agreed, Elsie would not be left in a legal limbo, unlike the other poor devils who had died, and whose inquests returned ”open” findings as the search for the truth went on.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE.

What dire offence from am'rous causes springs, What mighty contests rise from trivial things.

-Alexander Pope, The Rape of the Lock (1714)

ALTHOUGH LIVES WERE BEING EXTINGUISHED WITH OMINOUS regularity, the patterer determined that his life should go on as normally as possible. Thus he continued his regular public readings of the news, although he was not as driven to work as he had been.

When the demands of the investigation began to eat into his bread-and-b.u.t.ter labors, he confided to several people, including Dr. Owens and Alexander Harris, that his income was declining. Captain Rossi, too, showed sympathy.

His fortunes, however, had taken a turn for the better when he last examined his bank account. Mr. Potts, in his impeccable script, added an extra ten pounds to his usual fee. The only explanation that was forthcoming was that Mr. Potts's princ.i.p.als were very satisfied with the patterer's service and felt that he had been insufficiently rewarded for it.

Nicodemus Dunne did not argue, but returned to work with a new sense of security and a new spring in his step. And so he went about, bringing tidings of the coming withdrawal from legal tender of the holey dollar, that strange ring-shaped coin that had, in its way, solved the colony's currency crisis fifteen years earlier. Then, there had not been enough English, Spanish, Dutch or Portuguese coins to go around, and paying visiting traders for imported necessities always drained the purse. Promissory notes and private banknotes, like the famous Waterloo Notes, were of varying value.

Even the arrival from England to the colonial powers of 40,000 coins of that trading benchmark, the Spanish silver dollar (its value of eight reales reales sp.a.w.ned the legendary piratical label, ”pieces of eight”) did not help, because many of them could soon slip back overseas. sp.a.w.ned the legendary piratical label, ”pieces of eight”) did not help, because many of them could soon slip back overseas.

Although it was before his time, the patterer knew the story of what happened next. The governor, Lachlan Macquarie, hit on a way to keep the new coins in the colony. And turn a profit at the same time. Naturally, he asked a convict forger for help. William Henshall punched out a small disc-called the dump-from each Spanish coin, leaving a larger ring, called the holey dollar. Macquarie valued the ring at five s.h.i.+llings and the dump at fifteen pence, so each dollar became worth six s.h.i.+llings and threepence.

Now their death knell had sounded.

Dunne moved on, entertaining a crowd with a letter written by the architect Mr. Greenway to The Australian The Australian about his plan to throw a soaring bridge across the harbor from Lieutenant Dawes's Battery to the nearest point on the northern sh.o.r.e, a spot east of Billy Blue's Murdering Point. He had been proposing the bridge for a decade or more. Ten years before, at the height of his powers, no one had listened. Now, in the decline of his career, the idea seemed doomed forever. about his plan to throw a soaring bridge across the harbor from Lieutenant Dawes's Battery to the nearest point on the northern sh.o.r.e, a spot east of Billy Blue's Murdering Point. He had been proposing the bridge for a decade or more. Ten years before, at the height of his powers, no one had listened. Now, in the decline of his career, the idea seemed doomed forever.

To select audiences, the patterer brought news that was difficult to find in the papers. Prizefighting or kangaroo-coursing might be tolerated by the authorities, but of the shadowy worlds of bull-baiting or c.o.c.kfighting, aficionados could learn only by word of mouth. It was not nice news. He told them how at Brickfield village, the center of many blood sports, a fighting c.o.c.k still wearing its spur had raked out the eye of its handler.

To more general acclaim, he lauded that famous eccentric and pedestrian, the Flying Pieman, who had recently hauled a gig with a woman pa.s.senger over a distance of half a mile. Some listeners asked him for news on a rumor that only recently the pieman had been involved in fisticuffs with wild natives. Hadn't he been defending the honor of a young lady?

As usual, thought Dunne, the gossip was only half right. And the true version was better left untold. So he just shook his head and solemnly professed to have no knowledge of any such fracas.

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WITH HIS FINANCES improving, the patterer felt better able to court Miss Dormin lavishly.

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