Page 23 of Murder on Harley Street
“Do you think someone who works on the telephone system for the Post Office will have electricity knowledge?”
“It’s highly likely.”
We walked the short distance to Regent’s Park and sat on a bench near the large griffin vase floral display to read the letters. There were only four from Dr. Iverson to Isabel Kempsey, but they were quite long. They expressed his admiration for her laughter, her bright personality, and her ‘plump, womanly hips’. I had to bite my lip to stop myself giggling at that line. Although the language was a little overblown, each letter got quite repetitive. Each of the four letters began ‘To my darling Izzy’ and were signed ‘Your loving Will I’ for William Iverson.
The fifth letter was different, however. For one thing, it was dated last Wednesday, five days prior to Mrs. Kempsey’s death. The others were undated. It also had no name at the bottom or top, and it was written in capital letters.
“To disguise the handwriting,” Harry suggested.
I pointed to the capital letter W on one of the letters from Will and compared it to the W on the anonymous missive. “These are different. The anonymous one is more rounded, the one from Dr. Iverson is quite sharp. They’re written by different people.”
“’I dare to write this knowing I may be rebuffed,’” Harry read from the brief letter. “’Yet I must write it. I admire you and would like to know you and be known by you, if you dare. If you are curious to see who sent this, meet me outside 59 Regent Street at nine next Tuesday evening.’”
“That’s tonight. What’s at 59 Regent Street?”
Harry shrugged. “Just shops, I think. We can check now. It’s on the way to the address we have for Mrs. Linton.” He folded the letter in half and placed it on top of the others before retying the ribbon around them. “So Isabel Kempsey had a second admirer, one who is more succinct than the doctor.”
“Her husband and sister did say she was popular,” I said, taking his arm to stroll along the tree-lined path. “He must be considered a suspect now, in light of the affair with Dr. Iverson, and perhaps this second one.”
“As should Mrs. Iverson. She could have killed her husband’s lover at his clinic to punish him. Even if he doesn’t ultimately get arrested, the murder will damage his reputation.”
“Damaging her husband’s reputation will damage her own as well, not to mention cause financial hardship, which would also affect her. She’d be a fool to risk it.”
“Perhaps she acted out of rage, rather than with a cool head.”
“I’m not convinced,” I said. “Mrs. Iverson struck me as very practically minded.”
“Even practical minds can be overruled by strong emotions.”
The gruesome discussion was at odds with the beautiful setting of Regent’s Park. The cooler weather kept most people away, so it was peaceful, yet stunningly beautiful with its display of autumn leaves in varying shades of gold. I would have liked to stroll with Harry a while longer, especially since it was far enough from the hotel that I wasn’t worried about being caught by anyone we knew. We had a great deal to still accomplish, however, and idle walks would have to wait for another time.
We maintained a swift pace all the way to Regent Street and took shelter under the awning of the jewelry shop at number fifty-nine as it began to rain. We peered through the window, past the glittering display of gemstones and gold to a couple inspecting a ring under the bright light of a lamp at the counter. The jeweler stood ready with more to show if that one proved not to their taste.
“Shall we go inside and speak to the jeweler?” I looked at Harry to discover that he was no longer peering through the window. He surveyed the street.
I followed suit. We were at the Piccadilly Circus end of Regent Street where most of the shops catered to the well-heeled residents of Mayfair, but it was also near the theater district and more eclectic area of Soho. Harry’s office wasn’t far, and the Mayfair Hotel was a short walk in the opposite direction. On one side of the jeweler’s was a leather goods seller, and a toy shop occupied the other premises. Across the way were the four columns marking the entrance to the Café Royal, and next to that was a bootmaker and a dressmaker’s clothing boutique. Was the venue for the meeting place significant or random?
“Why tonight?” Harry mused.
I watched as two gentlemen left the Café Royal and simultaneously put up their umbrellas. “What do you mean?”
“The letter was dated last Wednesday, so why not meet earlier than tonight? Why wait?”
“Perhaps the letter writer was busy.”
Harry turned back to the jewelry shop and once again peered through the window.
“It will be closed at nine PM,” I pointed out. “It’ll be night, but not too dark with all these streetlamps on, so privacy isn’t guaranteed.”
“Especially since they’re electric. Regent Street was converted from gas years ago. It was easier to have clandestine meetings in those days. The light was softer.”
“Did you have many clandestine meetings in those days?”
His lips curved with his wicked smile. “Not on Regent Street.”
“Dare I ask more?”
“If you do, I’ll answer you honestly. I have no secrets from you, Cleo.”
