Page 38 of Murder on Harley Street
Her lips parted with her silent gasp.
“You weren’t as subtle as you thought you were,” I said.
“Miss Bolton,” Harry said firmly, “if Duncan Hamlin is the murderer, then you are an accessory.”
She gave in, but I sensed reluctance. “He hired my father to discover precisely where Dr. Iverson kept his machine, and to find a way into his rooms after hours. My father gave the assignment to me, since the clinic specializes in female conditions. I insisted on using the machine so I could see where and how it was stored. After my appointment, I saw the key on the reception desk and took it. I had a copy made then returned the original. I passed on the copy to Mr. Hamlin that very same day.”
“Why would he want access to the machine if not to tamper with it?” Harry asked.
“He simply wanted to break it to inconvenience the doctor and make the manufacturer seem incompetent. He was going to return every week or so and break it again and again, so that eventually the doctor would stop using the Electro Therapy Machine and instead purchasehisrevitalizer device. Mr. Hamlin used to work for the Medical Electrical Company, you see, but he went out on his own and has a superior product that he plans to market soon. He’s convinced that once the medical profession discovers his version, they’ll be impressed. Dr. Iverson is well connected within the medical community and has been vocal in his support for the Electro Therapy Machine.”
“Did you know Mr. Hamlin left the Medical Electrical Company under a cloud?” I asked. “He and the owner, Mr. Reid, had a falling out with Mr. Reid blaming him for stealing his ideas. Mr. Hamlin felt unappreciated by his former employer.”
Miss Bolton glanced at Harry. “Is that true?”
He nodded.
“I’m sure Mr. Hamlin never intended to harm anyone,” she went on.
“And yet a woman is dead,” I said.
“He’s a nice, unassuming man.”
“In our experience, nice people are capable of murder,” Harry said.
She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I will admit that it’s not beyond the realms of possibility that he might want to destroy his former employer, but to do so by murdering an innocent woman…that’s monstrous.”
“Are you quite sure he didn’t know Isabel Kempsey?” I asked. It wasn’t just a question for Miss Bolton. It was for Harry and me, too.
“I’m sure.”
We had no further questions and thanked her.
“Wait,” she said. “Please don’t let my father know I spoke to you. After he read about the murder in the papers, he became worried about our involvement, but I assured him my disguise was perfect and that my real identity wouldn’t be uncovered. I’m somewhat embarrassed that you found me so quickly, and he’d be furious. He already thinks women shouldn’t be detectives, but I convinced him to hire me.” A shadow passed over her pretty face. “My brother used to work for our father, but he died and…and now Father just has me.”
Harry gave her a sympathetic nod. “Perhaps don’t use identifiable places in your false name next time, nor choose an address in a street near your office.”
She chewed her lower lip before releasing it. “Thank you for the advice. I’m still quite new at this, but I’m a very quick learner, and very willing to do everything required of me in an investigation. Mr. Armitage, this may be bold of me, but no woman got anywhere by being demure. If you need another assistant then please do consider me. I don’t want to work for my father for long.”
“Miss Fox isn’t my assistant; she’s my partner. I’ll keep you in mind if we have more work than we can handle.” He touched the brim of his hat in a polite farewell, then made a rather obvious point of offering me his arm.
I didn’t think it a very professional thing to do in front of a rival private detective, but given Miss Bolton may have been admiring Harry for more than his investigative skill, I took his arm anyway.
“Do you think she spoke the truth?” I asked him, once we were some distance away.
“I don’t see why she would lie. She wouldn’t want to risk being an accessory to murder if Duncan Hamlin turns out to be guilty.”
Indeed.
I glanced over my shoulder, but Miss Bolton had moved on. She wasn’t continuing in the direction she’d been heading in when we caught up to her, however. She was re-entering her father’s office.
The doorto Duncan Hamlin’s office and workshop was locked. He may have gone out, or he may have been warned by Miss Bolton that we might call on him. When I shared my thoughts with Harry, he agreed she may have telephoned him.
He stepped away from the door, tipped his head back, and peered up at the open window on the first floor. “Let’s try around the back. There’s probably a door leading directly into the workshop from the lane or a courtyard.”
“And if it’s locked, too?”
“We wait.”
