Page 40 of Murder on Harley Street
“She bears a resemblance to Miss Bolton. Are they sisters?”
“They are. I have no reason to hide that fact.”
“Miss Bolton clearly thinksshehas a reason to hide it,” Harry said. “Not only did she lie about her name and the agency’s ownership, she failed to mention that you are her brother-in-law.”
Mr. Hamlin returned the frame to the corner of the workbench, adjusting the angle twice before being happy with the position. “I never asked Rose to lie to you. She must have her reasons.”
Murder would be a valid reason. Did she blame Dr. Iverson for the death of her sister? Perhaps she believed he should have cured her of her cancer.
Harry moved so that he blocked Mr. Hamlin’s exit to the office door while I remained near the back door. “Whose idea was it to sabotage the machine? Yours or Rose’s?”
Mr. Hamlin swallowed audibly. “I can’t recall now.”
“It was hers, wasn’t it?”
Mr. Hamlin adjusted his spectacles. “I told you, I can’t recall.”
“You shouldn’t protect her, Mr. Hamlin. She could be a murderer.”
“She’s not! She believes in justice, not revenge.”
“What happens when there is no way to get justice for the death of her sister?” When Mr. Hamlin didn’t respond, Harry continued to press him. “Miss Bolton seemed like a formidable and capable woman. I can’t imagine she liked seeing the doctor who failed her sister continue to practice without repercussions. Did it gall her to see his clinic thriving?”
“Rose didn’t kill that poor woman!”
Harry seemed to accept the answer—or accept that Duncan Hamlin wasn’t going to give in—but I thought of one more point to make before giving up completely. “She telephoned you, warning you that we were on our way here to question you. At the very minimum, that call makes it appear as though you’re colluding.”
“I don’t have a telephone.”
“I’m sure one of your neighbors does. Are you aware the police can obtain call records from the telephone exchange company?” At his small gasp of surprise, I added, “Now, I’ll ask again—are you very sure Rose Bolton isn’t the killer, and you’re not an accessory to murder?”
Mr. Hamlin’s face became pale and waxy, and his hand began to shake. “Please, tell the police I had nothing to do with this. It’s true that Rose telephoned me to warn me that you would be on your way here. She also told me not to say anything about our connection. She said it would look bad. But you’re right, I have to admit the truth. Secrets just make us look guilty and we’re not. I am quite sure Rose had nothing to do with the murder. She may be headstrong and rather cunning, but she had nothing against the deceased woman. She’d never even met her. If Rose blamed the doctor for my wife’s death, she’d have killedhim, not an innocent patient. Besides, I told you. Edith died of cancer. There was nothing he could do to save her.”
“Perhaps she finds it difficult accepting that,” I said gently.
His point about not knowing Isabel Kempsey was a good one, and it put an end to further questions. Without a solid motive to murder Mrs. Kempsey, it was unlikely Duncan Hamlin or Rose Bolton were the killer. While it was possible she was merely an innocent victim with a weak heart who’d been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and the killer had intended to punish Dr. Iverson with an elaborate plot to sabotage his clinic by sabotaging his machine, it was unlikely. It seemed overly complicated to me.
We left the workshop via the front office. Once outside, Harry asked me whether I’d been taken in by Rose Bolton. He sounded annoyed.
“I believed her entire story,” I admitted as we walked. “The details were convincing, as was her behavior. Her father, the real agency owner, only hiring her because this job required a woman, and his reluctance to believe a woman capable of doing as good a job as her brother… It was all very plausible.”
“I believed her when she spoke about the brother,” he said. “She seemed genuinely sad.”
“I think she was, but over the death of hersister, not a brother. She played us for fools, Harry.”
“She told us what we wanted to hear. She flattered me by mentioning my successes, and even asking to join my agency.”
“Her struggle as a young woman trying to be taken seriously in a man’s profession had me sympathizing with her,” I added.
He shook his head. “I can’t believe I fell for her act. Am I so self-absorbed that a little flattery has me hoodwinked?
“You’re not in the least self-absorbed, Harry. Don’t blame yourself. We all like to be flattered sometimes. Besides, you told her that I solved the cases alongside you. Those are not the words of a self-absorbed man. Rose Bolton is simply a very good actress, and an expert at deflecting attention away from the truth.”
“She certainly is,” he muttered. “Do you want to return to Islington and confront her with what we know?”
“Not yet. She’ll be expecting us to confront her again, so let’s do the opposite. She can stew while she waits. It’s unlikely she’s the murderer anyway. I agree with Mr. Hamlin on that score. There’s no strong motive for Rose to have killed Isabel Kempsey.”
“It could have been an accident, given she couldn’t have known about Isabel’s heart, but I agree. We should wait. So, what next?”
