Page 48 of Murder on Harley Street
I nudged him with my elbow and laughed. If my kissing was indeed perfect, it was only because he’d taught me. Prior to Harry, I’d kissed only one other man and it had been a disappointment. Harry, however, was experienced.
“Something the matter?” he asked quietly.
“I’ve come to the somewhat unnerving realization that I am capable of jealousy when it comes to you.”
He blew out a relieved breath. “Is that all? I was worried you were beginning to panic about being in a relationship.”
“Harry,” I chided as I took his hand. “You must stop thinking it’ll come to an end.”
He studied our clasped fingers. “I’m sure I will, in time.”
Spotting a deep recessed doorway, I led him to it and proceeded to push him back against the door. “Will a little practice help convince you?”
He looped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. “Definitely.”
Although we’d discardedHarry’s plan to flirt with Dr. Iverson, we stopped in a tea shop anyway to discuss our next move. First of all, I wanted to know if Harry believed the clinic’s staff or not.
“Miss Wainsmith and Sister Dearden could be lying to protect the doctor,” I said. “They both say they like working for him, and he pays them well, so they’ll be more inclined to ensure that continues.”
“By covering up the murder of his patient?” Harry shook his head. “If just one of them lied for him, I could believe it, but not both. If he did do it, I doubt either of them know.”
I waited as the waitress brought tea and sandwiches to our table, then continued after she left. “In that case, we should take their word for the fact that the doctor isn’t interested in men.”
“Not necessarily. They could be lying about that, and that alone, to protect his reputation.”
I poured tea from the pot into the white cups, then selected an egg and cress sandwich finger. “I didn’t get the feeling they lied, did you?”
“No. But they could be good actors, or he could be hiding his true nature from them, too. Aside from the doctor himself, the one person who would truly be aware of his…interests would be Mrs. Iverson.” Harry watched me over the rim of his teacup. “Do you want to ask her?”
I considered the implications while I chewed, eventually shaking my head. “Not yet. I think we should talk to Duncan Hamlin first and confront him about his late wife’s connection to the victim. How did Mrs. Kempsey know Mrs. Hamlin? If they were particularly close friends, and Isabel Kempsey blamed Dr. Iverson for not diagnosing Edith Hamlin’s cancer, the doctor may have killed her to silence her.”
“Or one of the staff did,” Harry added. “To protect their employer and their good jobs.”
“Indeed.” I suddenly lowered my half-eaten sandwich. “Could Mr. Kempsey have been right? Could Isabel Kempsey’s affair with Dr. Iverson have been a lie on her part? Could she have started it in order to destroy him as revenge for her friend’s death?”
“Miss Rowbottom, seemed to think Isabel loved him. She claims Isabel told her as much. She also said Isabel didn’t know Edith Hamlin.”
Had Miss Rowbottom lied about Isabel’s depth of feeling for the doctor as part of her scheme to win over Mr. Kempsey now that her sister was out of the picture? It seemed a disloyal thing to do, but it was obvious the sisters hadn’t gotten along. “Siblings can have such complicated relationships,” I murmured. “I see it in my own family. Flossy and Floyd can be at each other’s throats, then the next moment he’s protective of her. Aunt Lilian felt inferior to my mother to the point that it affected her well into adulthood, years after my mother died. And yet she loved her, too.”
“My father and Uncle Alfred are each other’s best friend, but that may not have always been the case. Aside from them, I don’t have much experience with siblings either.”
I reached across the table and clasped Harry’s hand. “Perhaps that’s why we’re drawn to each other. We understand what it means to feel alone in the world.”
He rubbed his thumb along my knuckles. “It may be one reason,” he said quietly. “But there are many others.”
The waitress passed our table and Harry withdrew his hand. He picked up his teacup but didn’t sip. “Isabel Kempsey’s family had never heard of Edith Hamlin. We should ask Edith Hamlin’s husband and sister again about if they knew of Isabel Kempsey before her murder, now that we have proof that there was a connection between Edith and Isabel.”
I sipped my tea in thought.
“You don’t agree,” Harry said.
“I do, but I consider them our main suspects at this point. If one or both are guilty then they’ll lie to save themselves. We can’t believe anything they tell us, so I don’t think we should ask.” I regarded him over the teacup. “I think we should try to find out answers another way.”
“You have a mischievous twinkle in your eye, Cleo. Should I be worried?”
“That depends on how you feel about breaking and entering.”
Chapter10
