Page 28 of Murder on Harley Street
Miss Wainsmith’s face flushed scarlet as she avoided everyone’s gaze. “I was aware, as you know,” she murmured, so softly that I doubted anyone other than me heard her.
Sister Dearden didn’t look surprised. She merely gave Mrs. Iverson a grim smile. “Are you all right?” she asked gently.
Mrs. Iverson folded her arms and inclined her head in a nod. Her husband patted her shoulder in what seemed to be a test to see if she would flinch or pull away. She did not, and he rested his hand there, a look of relief on his face.
“Miss Wainsmith, may I ask one more question?” Harry asked.
Miss Wainsmith looked like a startled rabbit as she nodded.
“Do you recall seeing a letter arrive at the clinic last week? It was written in all capital letters and had no recipient or sender on the letter itself. We’re not sure if it arrived in an envelope. Do you remember it?”
She blew out a long, relieved breath. “It doesn’t ring any bells.”
“Does the postman hand the post directly to you?”
“The first delivery of the day is already there when I arrive. Either Sister Dearden or Dr. Iverson collects it and places it on my desk for me to sort through. For the other mail deliveries throughout the day, I’m there. What was the letter about?”
“It was found in Mrs. Kempsey’s possession after her death, but Dr. Iverson says he saw it at the clinic days before her death. Are you sure you never saw it?”
“No. Never. Sister?”
Sister Dearden shook her head. “I haven’t either. How did it come to be in Mrs. Kempsey’s possession if Dr. Iverson saw it at the clinic?”
Everyone turned to look at him. Throughout the exchange, he seemed to be pretending he was elsewhere and hadn’t overheard a single word. Now that he was being directly addressed, he shrugged, proving he had been listening. “She must have taken it out of my wastebasket. We may never know now. Perhaps it’s not even relevant to the investigation.”
“Perhaps not,” Harry agreed with a reassuring smile.
As we took our leave, Dr. Iverson once again complained of being tired due to lack of sleep. The ladies got the hint and they, too, gave their leave.
As the Iversons walked us to the front door, Miss Wainsmith mentioned cooking a hearty broth for the doctor’s health. “Our landlady has an excellent recipe that she claims does wonders for a strong constitution. I’ll bring some tomorrow.”
“We’ll be at work tomorrow,” Sister Dearden reminded her.
“Not so soon, surely.” Miss Wainsmith appealed to her employer.
Dr. Iverson gazed longingly at the exit and sighed. “I think I need another day to recover.”
“Miss Wainsmith and I will go in to rearrange appointments and set everything to rights.” Sister Dearden held up the key Harry had just returned to her then took Mrs. Iverson’s hand and regarded her warmly. “Do come and see us if you need anything.”
“Yes, do,” Miss Wainsmith echoed, blinking large eyes at the doctor. Large, pretty eyes, in a pretty face, with clear skin and a slim figure. Just the doctor’s type.
We walked out with the two women, then went our separate ways. Thanks to the long omnibus journeys between our destinations across London, it was growing late. Harry suggested we return to the hotel.
“I’ll speak to Sir Ronald and warn him about Mr. Pierce’s threat, then I’ll return to Islington and watch the area at the intersection of Linton and Mary Streets.” When I didn’t respond, his little finger touched mine. “A penny for your thoughts.”
“Did you think the exchange between Dr. and Mrs. Iverson strange?” I asked.
“Do you mean the fact that she wasn’t particularly upset about her husband’s infidelity? Perhaps Isabel Kempsey wasn’t the first and there was a long line of lovers before her. Mrs. Iverson’s caustic comments implied she knows what he’s like.”
“I agree, but it was more than that. Mrs. Iverson drew attention to me from time to time. It was a little unnerving. Why would she do that? Was it a ploy to trick her husband into flirting with me? But he wouldn’t; not in front of you.”
“They don’t know we’re together.”
That was true, although I suspected the more intuitive people we met guessed. “It was odd,” I said again.
“All I saw was a woman who greatly admired you for your career, Cleo.”
“If you think that’s all it was, I won’t read any more into it.”
