Page 78 of A Fearless Heart
He nudged the chair with his foot just as he heard a knock at the door. He went to open it, wondering who even knew he was in town.
A young girl stood there, dressed in plain but tidy clothes. She could have been anywhere from eight to twelve years old.
“Yes?” Gabe asked, puzzled.
Wordlessly, she handed him a folded note. It said:
My messenger’s name is Sally, and she assists me in my work. I’ve identified another victim. Please follow Sally to my office where I will provide details.
Dr Cutter
Another victim? What the hell was going on? Gabe looked at the young girl. “You’re going to lead me to Dr Cutter?”
The girl gave him an emphatic nod.
“Do you not speak?”
She shook her head, then beckoned him to follow her.
“Yes, just let me get my coat and hat,” he told her. He locked the door behind him, then followed the girl out to the street and where she pointed to a hired cab. She gave Gabe another scrap of paper, and Gabe read out the street corners written on it. He yelled the instruction to the driver and helped Sally into the carriage. She looked quite pleased to be riding.
“Did you walk all the way here?” he asked, after the carriage had been moving for a while.
She gave a little shrug as she nodded, as if to say,Yes, I’m used to it.
When the carriage jolted to a stop, she was outside faster than Gabe could blink, and waited impatiently while he dismounted and paid the driver. She took him by the hand and led him down a narrow side street to a door than she opened without knocking.
Up a flight of stairs, and then down a longish hallway, with Sally peeking in rooms until she found the one she wanted. She pointed to Gabe to enter.
Gabe turned into the room and saw a thin man stitching up a wound on an unconscious patient. Sally rapped on the door to announce them.
The doctor glanced over, saw Gabe, and said, “Good, you’re here. I’m Dr Cutter. Hope you don’t mind blood. I need to finish this before he wakes up and starts screaming.”
“I’ve seen worse,” Gabe said.
“Sally, will you clean and prepare the room at the end of the hall for the next patient, please. It’s a young lady experiencing obstructed menses. You know all the instruments I need for that, yes? There’s a good girl.” For one instant, his expression softened as he gave the instructions. But the moment Sally left, he returned to the business at hand.
“Did they tell you I’m the one who’s been testing victims for this poison?” Cutter asked as he stitched away.
“They said a doctor was working on it, but didn’t give a name.”
“No, they wouldn’t. I think they keep secrets for the fun of it.” Cutter tied off the end of the thread he was using, and wiped the now sewn-up wound with a cloth that stank of alcohol. “Anyway, for the last several months, whenever someone’s been found dead and it might be poison, Aries has arranged for me to get some of the blood and tissue and sample it for a range of possible substances. Some are easy. Arsenic leaves signs, for example. But this new chemical, the clephobine, is quite tricky. Took me a lot of time and effort to find out how to reveal the traces. Awful stuff.”
“I know the person who first synthesized it here in England. She agrees.”
“I’d like to meet her sometime,” Cutter said. “Unfortunately, my work keeps me busy. If people would just stop stabbing and shooting each other… Sally’s a great help, and she’ll make a fine doctor someday. Anyway, there’s another victim. Found early this morning. I just got the results from the test. And it’s undoubtedly clephobine, just like that of the MacCuley gentleman a few days ago.”
“Damn it. What’s the victim’s name?”
“Lyndon Huxley, of Jermyn Street. Not older than thirty, otherwise a healthy man from what I could see.”
“Any other marks on the body? Did he struggle?”
“Not at all. Looked quite peaceful, other than being dead.”
Gabe asked a few more questions, and then took his leave when the patient on the table began to wake up, moaning. He left Dr Cutter’s office with the intention of investigating Huxley’s life and death as soon as possible. It was a rare opportunity for Gabe to do it before all the evidence was gone and the people involved forgot key details.
It was easy enough to gain access to the dead man’s house, since servants were coming and going, along with other people who appeared to be neighbors or family. Gabe, dressed in his respectable but unremarkable outfit, moved among several of them, listening to snippets of conversations without appearing to do so.
