Anne Perry - A Sudden, Fearful Death

"And other doctors?"

"Dr. Chalmers wasn't here. He usually only comes in the afternoon. He works somewhere else in the mornings. Dr. Didcot was away in Glasgow. And if you mean the students, they hardly ever come in before about nine o'clock." She pulled a face. "If you ask them, they'll say they were studying, or something of the sort, but I have my own ideas about that." She let her breath out in a highly expressive little snort.

"And nurses? I suppose nurses could make mistakes too," Hester pursued it to the end. "What about Mrs. Flaherty?"

"Mrs. Flaherty?" The girl's eyebrows shot up with a mixture of alarm and amusement. "Oh my goodness! I never thought of her. Well-she and Prudence fairly disliked each other." She gave a convulsive little shiver. "I suppose either would have been pleased enough to catch the other out. But Mrs. Flaherty is awful little. Prudence was tall, about two or three inches taller than you, I'd say, and six inches taller than Mrs. Flaherty."

Hester was vaguely disappointed. "Was she here?"

"Yes… she was." Her face lit up with a kind of glee and then she was instantly ashamed of it. "I remember clearly because I was with her."

"Where?"

"In the nurses' dormitory. She was telling them off to a standstill." She looked at Hester to gauge how far she dare go with her honesty. She met Hester's eyes, and threw caution to the winds. "Over an hour she was, inspecting everything in sight. I know she had a quarrel with Prudence, because I saw Prudence walk away, and Mrs. Flaherty went to take it out on the nurses in the dormitory. I think she must have got the worst of the argument."

"You saw Prudence that morning?" Hester tried to take the urgency out of her voice in case she precipitated the girl unwittingly into imagining rather than remembering.

"Oh yes," she said with certainty.

"Do you know what time?"

"About half past six."

"You must have been one of the last people to see her alive." She saw the girl pale and a mixture of fear and sadness cross her young face. "Have the police asked you about it?"

"Well-not really. They asked me if I saw Dr. Beck and Sir Herbert."

"Did you?"

"I saw Dr. Beck going along the corridor toward the wards. They asked me what he was doing and how he looked. He was just walking, and he looked terrible tired, like 'e'd been up all night-which I suppose he had. He didn't look furious or frightened like he'd just murdered someone, just sad."

"Who else did you see?"

"Lots of people," she said quickly. "There's lots of people around, even at that hour. The chaplain, and Mr. Plumstead-he's the treasurer. Don't know what he was doing here then." She shrugged. "And a gentleman I don't know, but dressed smart, like, with brownish hair. He didn't seem to know his way 'round. He walked into the linen room, then a second later came right out, looking awkward, like he knew he'd made a fool of himself. I reckon he wasn't a doctor. We don't get visiting doctors at that time. And he looked sort of angry, as if he'd been crossed in something. Not furious, just irritated."

She looked at Hester, her face troubled. "Do you think he could be the one? He didn't look like a madman to me, in fact he looked rather nice. Like somebody's brother, if you know what I mean? He probably came to visit a patient, and wasn't allowed in. It happens sometimes, especially if people call at the wrong time."

"That may be what he was," Hester agreed. "Was that before or after you saw Prudence?"

"Before. But he could have waited around, couldn't he?"

"Yes-if he even knew her."

"Don't seem very likely, does it," the girl said unhappily. "I reckon it was more likely one of us here. She quarreled something fierce with Mrs. Flaherty. Only last week Mrs. Flaherty swore either Prudence would have to go or she would. I reckoned it was temper, but maybe she meant it." She looked at Hester half hopefully.

"But you said you saw Prudence after the quarrel, then Mrs. Flaherty went to the dormitory, where she stayed for at least an hour," Hester pointed out.

"Oh-yes, so I did. I suppose it can't have been her." She pulled a small face. "Not that I really thought it was, for all that she hated Prudence. Not that she was the only one."

The patient stirred again, and they both stopped and looked at him, but after a muffled groan he sank back into sleep.

"Who else?" Hester prompted.

"Really hated? Well, I suppose Dora Parsons. But she curses at a lot of people, and she's certainly strong enough to have broken her back, never mind strangled her. Have you seen her arms?"

"Yes," Hester admitted with a shiver. But as much as she feared Dora Parsons herself, it was fear of being hurt, not killed. She found it hard to believe sheer ignorant dislike of a woman she believed to have ambitions that were arrogant and misplaced, and to imagine herself superior, was motive for a sane person to commit murder. And for all her coarseness, Dora Parsons was an adequate nurse, rough but not deliberately cruel, tireless and patient enough with the sick. The more Hester thought about it, the less did she think Dora would murder Prudence out of nothing more than hatred.

"Yes, I am sure she has the strength," she went on. "But no reason."

"No, I suppose." She sounded reluctant, but she smiled as she said it. "And I'd better go before Mrs. Flaherty comes back and catches me. Shall I empty the slop pail for you? I'll be quick."

"Yes please. And thank you for the sandwich and the tea."

The girl smiled with sudden brilliance, then blushed, took the pail, and disappeared.

It was a long night, and Hester got little sleep. Her patient dozed fitfully, always aware of his pain, but when daylight came a little before four in the morning his pulse was still strong and he had only the barest flush of fever. Hester was weary but well satisfied, and when Sir Herbert called in at half past seven she told him the news with a sense of achievement.

"Excellent, Miss Latterly." He spoke succinctly, beyond Prendergast's hearing, although he was barely half awake. "Quite excellent. But there is a long way to go yet." He looked at him dubiously, pushing out his lip. "He may develop fever any time in the next seven or eight days, which could yet prove fatal. I wish you to remain with him each night. Mrs. Flaherty can see to his needs during the day." He ignored her temporarily while he examined the patient, and she stepped back and waited. His concentration was total, his brows furrowed, eyes intent while his fingers moved dextrously, gently. He asked one or two questions, more for reassurance of his attention man from a need for information, and he was unconcerned when Prendergast gave few coherent replies, his eyes sunken with shock of the wound and the bleeding.

"Very good," Sir Herbert said at last, stepping back. "You are progressing very well, sir. I expect to see you in full health in a matter of weeks."

"Do you? Do you think so?" Prendergast smiled weakly. "I feel very ill now."

"Of course you do. But that will pass, I assure you. Now I must attend to my other patients. The nurses will care for you. Good day, sir." And with no more than a passing nod to Hester he left, striding along the corridor, shoulders squared, head high.

As soon as she was relieved, Hester also left. She was barely halfway along the corridor in the direction of the nurses' dormitory when she encountered the imposing figure of Berenice Ross Gilbert. Although in any social circumstance she would have considered herself Lady Ross Gilbert's equal, even if perhaps that opinion had not been shared, in her gray stuff nursing dress, and with her occupation known, she was at every kind of disadvantage, and she was uncomfortably aware of it.

Berenice was dressed splendidly, as usual, her gown a mixture of rusts and golds with a touch of fuchsia pink, and cut to the minute of fashion. She smiled with casual charm, looking straight through Hester, and continued on her way. However, she had only gone a few steps when Sir Herbert came out of one of the doorways.