Page 59 of Murder on Harley Street
Watching him struggle not to show any signs of disapproval was rather amusing, so I couldn’t help teasing him a little longer. “I can see you’re a skeptic, but is it a problem if I do believe in ghosts and mediums?”
“I, er… No, it isn’t. If you believe, Cleo, then it doesn’t bother me. I accept everything about you.”
“Even if you think I’m a crackpot? That is sweet of you, Harry.”
His smile was uncertain. Like the patient with Sister Dearden, he couldn’t tell if the remark was serious or not.
I decided to put him out of his misery. Besides, I could no longer contain my laughter. “While I don’t have any strong opinion about the existence of ghosts, I do think spirit mediums like Mrs. Cook are frauds. You can rest assured I won’t be seeking the services of one.”
“Was that a test?”
“No, but if it had been, you’d have passed with flying colors.”
“Good. I think.” He indicated we should walk on, and I fell into step beside him. “IfIbelieved mediums could really communicate with spirits, would you still want to be with me?”
“Of course,” I said. “It would solve the issue of what to buy you every birthday. I’d simply pay for a session with a medium and be done with it.”
He laughed softly. “You know you don’t need to buy me anything. Your presence at my family lunch will be gift enough for me.”
“So you and Mr. Hobart keep saying.”
“Uncle Alfred said that? How did you respond?”
“Never mind that. But if you do have any gift ideas, please give me a very large hint.” We rounded the corner, heading in the direction of the Iversons’ house without having discussed our destination. “Why do you think Miss Wainsmith didn’t tell us Mrs. Iverson replaced her on the day Dr. Iverson read the anonymous letter the first time we asked her about it?”
Harry shrugged. “Perhaps she simply forgot. Or she didn’t match the day of the letter’s arrival with the day she wasn’t there. The more important question is, why didn’t Mrs. Iverson tell us? She must have been the one to pass it on to him, and we mentioned it to her husband in front of her.”
“For the same reasons as Miss Wainsmith, I suppose. She didn’t realize it was that day.” Even as I said it, I didn’t believe it. Mrs. Iverson must have been the one to handle it, so why not say so? “Harry, I think we need to seriously consider Mrs. Iverson is the killer.”
His pace slowed. “I agree, except for one thing. If we presume the anonymous letter is from a lover, either male or female, why would she pass it on to her husband? Why would she want him to carry on the affair?” When I didn’t respond, he answered his own question. “Because she doesn’t love him. Not even a little. She hasn’t shown any feeling toward him, neither anger nor sorrow, despite learning some rather shocking things about him. I can accept she’s not an emotional woman, but to show absolutely nothing is very odd.”
I wasn’t convinced, however. “There’s something about her that I can’t put my finger on. I feel uneasy in her presence and I’m not entirely sure why, but what if it’s because I’m sensing she’s lying? Perhaps she’s faking indifference about her husband’s affairs so that we’llthinkshe doesn’t have a motive to set him up for Isabel Kempsey’s murder.”
Harry stopped walking altogether. “You make a good point. All right, let’s assume she’s faking a lack of emotion and she is in fact jealous or vengeful. We can’t be certain she has any electrical knowledge yet, but we do know she had access to her husband’s key and the appointment book, so she knew when Isabel Kempsey was due in.”
“Didyoufeel uneasy in her presence?” I asked.
“No, but I believe you when you say you did. You have good instincts, Cleo.”
Either he and Harmony were colluding, or they were both right. I would trust my instincts about Mrs. Iverson, although I wished I could put my finger on why I felt uneasy in her presence.
“As much as I’d like to confront her about the letter to see her reaction, I don’t think we should,” Harry went on. “She’s not going to blurt it all out.
“Not without proof,” I agreed. “Before we confront her, we need to be sure about her feelings, or lack thereof, for her husband. I think we should get a third opinion.”
“From whom?”
“I have someone in mind.” I set off along the street at a brisk pace. “I’ll tell you on the way.”
Chapter12
Given the last time we spoke to Rose Bolton had been a rather tense affair after we broke into her office, I expected to be met with opposition to our suggestion. She agreed immediately, however, right after Harry offered to pay her. At first he’d protested against my suggestion of hiring her to approach Mrs. Iverson since she was also a suspect, but I managed to convince him after reminding him that Rose had proved she was an excellent actress, fooling us both, and Mrs. Iverson had never met her. The day Rose stole Sister Dearden’s key while pretending to be Mary Linton, Mrs. Iverson hadn’t been there.
Between the three of us, we settled on a ruse that would hopefully get Mrs. Iverson talking, giving Rose a thorough idea of her character and feelings—or lack thereof—for Dr. Iverson. She was going to pretend to be a journalist writing a piece about how the murder had affected Dr. Iverson’s wife. The viewpoint of the wife was one that a female journalist working for a women’s periodical would be more likely to take than a male reporter. We suggested some questions she could ask, but it was Rose herself who said she’d try to get Mrs. Iverson to admit she’d do anything for her husband. It wouldn’t be considered a confession, but it would be a small crack that we could widen if we applied pressure.
Rose was enthusiastic about the scheme. She seemed to like playacting. I said as much to Harry as we waited around the corner from the Iversons’ house. “Do you think we can trust her, when she’s so good at putting on an act?”
He hesitated before answering. “I’m not sure. I believed her when she said she knows of no connection between her sister and Isabel Kempsey, but it’s possible she was acting then, too.”
