Page 51 of The Curse of Penryth Hall
Dr. Quick’s home was situated a few doors down from the Hind and Hare. The middle of three stone rowhouses along the High Street. His door was painted a cheery shade of yellow, which I had to admire the fellow for. The old woman who greeted us appeared of an age with Mr. Owen, if not older.Her eyes keen and cloudy as she peered at me through thick spectacles.
“Allo, Ruan.”
He smiled at her. “Mrs. Tompkins.”
She pulled the door farther open and gestured for us to enter. “I expect you’re here to see the doctor again?”
Ruan nodded. “We have things to discuss.”
She let out a coarse laugh. “I would imagine you do from what I’ve heard.”
With that cryptic response she led us deeper into the small stone house, settling us into a snug drawing room—not much larger than the cramped chamber I had at the inn. A great window opened out onto the street, letting in the morning sun along with the sounds of village life. A rather quaint image, had I not nearly been killed some twenty feet outside it. In the corner of my eye I caught the shape of a figure in the crowd dressed in black head-to-toe. A woman. Dark hair. Dark dress. My heart stuttered and I turned my head quickly to focus on the image, but whatever it was vanished.
I shivered despite the warmth of the room and settled myself into a fine—if worn—armchair. I cast a nervous glance out the window, but whatever—whoever—I’d seen was gone. Not a reassuring sensation.
I heard the old doctor coming. The echo of his cane clicking on the herringbone wood floors. He made his way into the room, his left hand feeling his way around the back of a Victorian sofa, before settling down across from me.
“Morning, Dr. Quick.”
The old man’s head turned to the sound of Ruan’s voice. “Ah, there you are, boy.”
The small knot of tension in Ruan’s brow eased, smoothing the omnipresent lines there. “I hope we aren’t disturbing you.”
“Ah, no, lad. Never you. I expect you’ve come about the killings, haven’t you?”
“We have. Miss Vaughn and I were wondering if you recalled what happened to the previous baronet, the last curse killings?”
“Ah… I’d hoped it was a social call. But I suppose that was a foolish thought considering—” The old man’s expression fell. “I remember. And that fraud they brought in from Launceton.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Fraud? They say she broke the curse.”
Dr. Quick let out a gruff harrumph. “There was no curse. Never has been. I am convinced she took the coin from the family and left town as quickly as she’d come. She was no more witch than I am. Sir Joseph was killed by someone in the village. Of that I’m certain.”
Ruan gave me a hesitant glance before turning back to Dr. Quick. “Did you have any ideas of who it might have been?”
The old doctor shook his head long and slow. “If I had, I would have made my suppositions known long ago. I’ve seen all sorts of animal attacks in my years. The wounds on Sir Joseph would not have been that clean. They were cut with a blade. There was a nick in the breastbone too. No fragments of hair, tooth, or claw that I could find. What sort of creature would do such a thing?”
“Was his heart removed?” I asked, recalling Mrs. Penrose’s story of the very first victim of the curse.
Dr. Quick nodded. “Aye. It was, but a hound dug the fetid thing up a few days later.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Charming.” And then a second thought struck me. One that hadn’t dawned on me until this very moment. “Sir Edward’s heart wasn’t taken, was it?”
Ruan shook his head, tapping two fingers on the top of his thigh. “No. Which is another reason to think that this isn’t the curse—regardless of what happened before. Just like thatbottle under your bed, I think whoever is behind this means for us to believe in it.”
“A misdirection, then.” The doctor made a sound of agreement in his chest. “Not the work of a demon, I tell you that, Miss Vaughn. A man murdered Sir Joseph, and I’d bet my eternal soul that his nephew was killed by just the same.” Dr. Quick was adamant in this. He smoothed his neatly pressed trousers.
Ruan raked a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Don’t let the good vicar hear you betting away your soul like that.”
Dr. Quick chuckled. “Ah, I take it he’s still after your salvation, is he? You’re wise to avoid him. The man might spin a pious tale from the pulpit, but he’d as quick see you in jail than he would in the pew.”
Ruan grimaced, but didn’t argue.
“You don’t think they were killed by the same person, do you?” I asked.
“It’d be difficult for me to tell. A year ago, perhaps? My vision was still good enough then that I’d be able to look over Sir Edward and see if there were similarities. But now? I have lost almost all of my vision. Only shadows and light, I’m afraid, my dear.”
I frowned and settled back into the chair, tugging my arms to my chest. We knew no more than we had before.
