Page 20 of Murder on Harley Street
Harry and I glanced at each other.
“I know how it looks,” Mr. Hamlin said. “But I want to assure you, I don’t blame him for her death. Not altogether.”
“What did she die from?” Harry asked.
“Cancer of the breast.”
“We are truly sorry for your loss, Mr. Hamlin,” I said.
“Thank you. I know what you’re thinking now, but I assure you I didn’t tamper with the machine to ruin Dr. Iverson. As I said, I don’t blame him. Nothing could have saved her.” He looked down at the counter as his eyes filled with tears.
“I do have another question for you. Did you know the victim, Isabel Kempsey?”
His head jerked up. “No! I’ve never met her, heard of her, or know anyone named Kempsey.”
I felt his gaze bore into my back as we left.
“What do you think?” Harry asked as we walked away.
“I think Hamlin is still angry with Reid.”
“So much so that he was prepared to harm a woman he has never met to get revenge on his former employer? He may not have known about her heart condition and that the machine would kill her instantly, but he must know that electrocution—even for a mere few seconds—causes terrible injuries.”
“Mr. Hamlin didn’tseemcruel enough to do it,” I admitted, “but I’ve been wrong about people before.”
We decidedto call on Mr. Pierce, since we were closer to his house than any of the other suspects. He was the fellow who’d accused Dr. Iverson of malpractice after he’d prescribed what we suspected was Nerve Elixir to his now deceased wife. He’d made quite a scene in the waiting room, shouting and carrying on until Sister Dearden calmed him down.
Mr. Pierce lived in a respectable neighborhood, if not an affluent one. We thought he might be at work, but fortunately he was home. He met us at the door and did not invite us inside.
Harry handed him a card and explained that he’d been hired by Dr. Iverson. He’d hardly finished getting the words out when Mr. Pierce went to shut the door. Harry muscled it back and forced his way inside.
“I wouldn’t try that again,” he said. “It makes you look guilty.”
Mr. Pierce rubbed his stubbled jaw and mumbled something under his breath. I caught a whiff of alcohol and cigarette smoke, but I wasn’t sure if it was coming from him or the depths of the house. “I know you want to blame someone for what happened to that woman, but it wasn’t me. Yes, I want Iverson to suffer, but I wouldn’t kill a woman I’d never met.”
“Where were you over the weekend?” Harry asked.
“Here, drinking myself into a stupor.”
“Can anyone vouch for you?”
“My dead wife’s ghost.” Mr. Pierce pressed his thumb and finger into bloodshot eyes. “Apologies. No. No one can vouch for me. I was alone.”
“No servants?” I asked.
“Do I look like I can afford live-in servants? I used to have a charwoman come, but I dismissed her. I’m not wealthy. It was a stretch to afford that damned doctor’s fees.” He put up a hand. “Sorry for my language, Miss, but talking about him aggravates me.”
“I understand.” I hesitated then decided to use a weapon that could be effective in this instance. “I have a close relative who was prescribed the Nerve Elixir by Dr. Iverson. She became addicted to the cocaine in it and is now suffering the ill effects of that addiction. Is that what your wife was taking?”
Mr. Pierce suddenly grasped my hand. Harry took a step toward him, but I shook my head and he stayed back.
“Yes! Then youdounderstand.” Mr. Pierce squeezed my hand. “You know how terrible it is to watch your loved one waste away while continuing to pay more and more money to thatcharlatan. I couldn’t help my wife. She believed Iverson was right, that the tonic would cure her. But it did the opposite. Not only did it slowly kill her, but before her death, her character changed entirely, and I blame thatblastedtonic. She used to be good and gentle, but she became angry, cruel. The last few months were unbearable. What did you say your name was?”
“Miss Fox.”
He squeezed my hand again, rather too firmly, and I winced. He started to say something but stopped himself, then released me. He raked his fingers through his hair, which didn’t improve its already disheveled state.
“It’s gloomy in here,” Harry noted, looking around the dark hallway.
