Page 27 of Murder on Harley Street
“She was pretty.”
“You already said that,” Mrs. Iverson pointed out. “In whatwaywas she pretty?”
Dr. Iverson shrugged. “In the usual way. Clear skin, large eyes, generous mouth and a slim figure.”
“I’m sure that description will help Miss Fox and Mr. Armitage find her.” It was difficult to tell whether Mrs. Iverson was being sarcastic or not.
Her husband once again cleared his throat. “Are there any other questions, Armitage? It’s just that I didn’t get much sleep last night. I’m rather tired and have a raging headache.”
“A pity we don’t keep any of that tonic you like to prescribe in the house,” Mrs. Iverson said. “Shall I send the housekeeper out for a bottle?”
“Don’t bother,” he muttered.
I was tempted to press him about the tonic but Harry quickly changed the subject. “Do either Miss Wainsmith or Sister Dearden have any understanding of electricity?”
For the first time, Dr. and Mrs. Iverson were both shocked by a question. “Are you accusing one of them of tampering with the machine?” he asked.
“We have to consider all possibilities.” Harry poised his pencil above the notebook page, waiting.
Dr. Iverson shook his head. “If they do, I’m not aware of it.”
“Nor I,” Mrs. Iverson added. “Furthermore, we trust them both implicitly. Don’t we, dear?”
Dr. Iverson gave an emphatic nod. “They are excellent employees.”
It seemed on that score, they were united.
Harry flipped the notebook closed. “One last thing. Did Isabel Kempsey ever complain about her heart?”
“As a matter of fact, she did,” Dr. Iverson said. “She once mentioned an erratic beat. I listened to it, but detected nothing unusual.” He leaned forward, his entire focus on Harry. “Are you saying she had a bad heart, and that killed her?”
“The high electrical current in the Electro Therapy Machine killed her, but her instantaneous death would imply her heart was already weakened. Otherwise she’d have taken longer to die. Long enough for you to switch off the machine and perhaps save her life.”
Dr. Iverson rubbed his hand across his mouth. It still trembled. “It was an awful thing to witness. But yes, it was instant albeit not pain free.”
Mrs. Iverson pressed a hand to her throat. “Poor woman.”
After a respectful moment of silence, Dr. Iverson asked Harry if he’d proved the machine had been tampered with. “D.S. Forrester wouldn’t tell me for certain, but he persistently asked me about my understanding of electricity, so I presume it had been.”
“It was,” Harry confirmed.
Dr. Iverson held up his hands. “Then I am certainly not the one who tampered with it. I know how to switch the lights on and off, not how they work.”
“Nor do I,” Mrs. Iverson added. “Just in case either of you were thinking I’m the murderer.”
Harry and I rose to leave, just as two newcomers were shown in by the housekeeper. Sister Dearden and Miss Wainsmith both exclaimed with joy upon seeing Dr. Iverson released.
Sister Dearden gave him a hearty embrace as his wife watched on, her gaze narrowed. “We received your message and came immediately. We aresorelieved.”
“So relieved,” Miss Wainsmith echoed, as she also embraced her employer. “We’ve been terribly anxious, haven’t we, Sister Dearden?”
“Very worried indeed. How have you held up, Mrs. Iverson? You look a little peaky, if you don’t mind me saying.”
Mrs. Iverson gave her a curt nod. “I’m quite well, thank you, Sister. We’ve just been hearing a report from Miss Fox and Mr. Armitage. They’re making thorough progress in the investigation. Indeed, I believe they may have one or two questions for you both.”
Harry removed a key from his pocket. “Thank you for loaning this to me, Sister. Mrs. Iverson is correct. I have one question.” He glanced at the doctor. “It’s not an easy thing to ask in a group. Perhaps we can go somewhere more private?”
“That won’t be necessary,” Mrs. Iverson said. “There’s no point being discreet now. Mr. Armitage wants to know if you were aware of my husband and Mrs. Kempsey having an affair. Don’t feel as though you need to hide anything for my sake. I am aware of it all.”
