Arthur Upfield - Winds of Evil

“Professional secrecy is generally an excellent thing, but sometimes it is not excellent. In the interests of justice, which will have to act quickly if another life is not lost, I will acquaint you with one or two matters which may have an important bearing on your investigation. All these people here have been, are, or will be, my patients. There are two men and one woman who stopped growing mentally when they reached the age of five. One of the men should be certified. Despite what you have said this evening, I long since have reached the conclusion that the genesis of these crimes is to be found in the very roots of the place. Here is a peculiar thing. From what I learnt recently, I believe that many years ago Mrs. Nelson almost met her death by strangulation.”

“Ah!”breathed Bony, his eyes suddenly blazing. “How did you learn that?”

“I was with Mabel Storrie when she regained consciousness, and the first thing she said, with great difficulty, was, ‘Will my neck be disfigured like Mrs. Nelson’s?’ I reassured her and commanded her not to talk, but a few days later I asked her about the old witch’s neck. She then was loath to talk about it, saying she was sorry she had mentioned it, as she was under promise to Mrs. Nelson. I was interested, however, and I was firm, less because I was curious than because I could see the girl was suffering from some inhibition. It came out that at the time I got Mabel to nurse Mrs. Nelson when she had an attack of neuritis she saw on the old witch’s neck several peculiar scars.

“I have never seen those scars. Mrs. Nelson always wore a nightdress with a high collar at those times I visited her when she was in bed. According to Mabel, Mrs. Nelson would never remove the nightdress to washherself or to change it whilst the girl was in the room. One day when Mabel returned from a visit to her aunt in the town she found Mrs. Nelson asleep and the collar of the nightdress undone. The scars were visible to her, and on awakening and discovering that her nurse knew about them Mrs. Nelson was very angry.”

“This is all very strange, doctor,” Bony interjected.

“ ’Tisso,” Mulray agreed. “In a young woman this shyness which dictated concealment of ugly scars could be put down to vanity. What is so interesting is Mrs. Nelson’s determination to conceal such scars from her doctor and her nurse. Here is another peculiar matter. After the old witch got better, or well enough to be attended by Tilly, she presented Mabel with a most expensive ring. I know the old woman fairly well. She’s made a fortune out of that pub, and in business she is as hard as steel. In other ways she’s very generous, but even so, to give a nurse an expensive ring in addition to five pounds a week seems to call for an explanation.”

“You are sure that the scars were caused by attempted strangulation?”

“Almost sure from the description of them I obtained from Mabel.”

“Thank you, doctor. You have given me material with which to build many theories.”

“I have more material to give you. I have been here fourteen years, as you know, and I have never attended Mrs. Nelson for wounds of that nature. Practising here before me was a Frenchman by descent named Tigue, and he left all his case-books here in this house. I’ll come back to them in a minute, for I must begin at the beginning.

“Old Tigue fell mortally ill early in nineteen twenty-two, and at Mrs. Nelson’s expense I came up from Adelaide to see him. I found Grandfer Littlejohn’s wife nursing him. After Tigue died I returned to Adelaide, and a few weeks after that I received from Mrs. Nelson an offer of a hundred and fifty a year and this furnished house rent free to practise here. Further to this was the somewhat singular addition of a case of spirits per month.

“For several reasons I decided to accept the offer.” The old man smiled when he added, “It was the spirit, perhaps. Of course, the hundred and fifty a year and the house was compensation for the lack of many practice fees. As Mrs. Nelson explained, it was an inducement to a medical man to reside and practise here when his normal work would not be remunerative enough to feed him. She thought it was up to her to hand back a fraction of what she took from the public in her hotel. I think that as she is getting old she fears the devil. I send in my bills to her as with the rest. She is an extraordinary character. I’ve known her foreclose on several properties because the mortgage interest wasn’t kept up. And yet no one in real trouble appeals to her in vain.”

Bony was staring unseeingly into the darkling night. He had met Mrs. Nelson but once, and he now was wondering if her acts of philanthropy were actuated by some ulterior motive, such as the gift of a valuable ring to Mabel Storrie to seal her lips.

“Mrs. Nelson has been very generous to theStorries, hasn’t she?” he asked.

“Decidedly. Not only did she waive Fred’s half-yearly mortgage interest, but she gave them a cheque for a hundred, and told Mrs. Storrie that if she wanted more for Mabel she was to wire for it. I saw the note she wrote to Mrs. Storrie. Lastly, she almost ordered me-orderedme, mind you-to accompany the girl to Broken Hill and see that a nurse was engaged to take her on to Adelaide.”

“Ah! Very interesting, doctor, very. There is something else, though, isn’t there?” Bony suggested.

“Yes. When I heard about the scars on the old witch’s neck, and knew I had not treated her for the wounds from which they resulted, I thought of Doctor Tigue’s case-books. They were all in a wood chest in this room when I first came here. I went through the lot.

“Each book is devoted to the cases in one year and the range of years is from 1909 to 1922-one book for every year Tigue practised in Carie. He was a methodical fellow, and at the end of every book the cases in it are indexed. In nearly all of them there is a reference to Mrs. Nelson’s ailments, but a leaf from each of the books devoted to the years 1910 and 1914 are missing. They have been torn out. In all the range of books these are the only two leaves missing, and according to the indexes both leaves referred to Mrs. Nelson…”

“Go on, doctor!” Bony cried softly.

“The missing leaf in the 1910 book was numbered pages eleven and twelve, and according to the index page twelve was devoted to Mrs. Nelson, and page eleven to Mrs. Borradale. In the other book, the year 1914, the page numbers of the missing leaf are one hundred and thirty-seven and one hundred and thirty-eight. Here again the index shows that page one hundred and thirty-seven concerned Mrs. Nelson, and page one hundred and thirty-eight dealt with a certain Henry Wagstaff, since deceased. Now for what did old Tigue attend the old witch on or about 5th January, 1910, and again about 15th June, 1914?”

“Hum! I suppose that the case following the missing leaves does not concern Mrs. Nelson? Doctor Tigue could not have made a mistake, or dropped a blot of ink and merely torn out the offending page and directly continued on the next?”

“I don’t think so. If he had done, whydid he index the material on them?” countered the old man. “They were torn out for a purpose, and the person who removed them didn’t think of the indexes or thought that the indexes were of no importance.”

Through the tobacco-smoke Bony stared hard at his host, and observing the stare the doctor realized how dark it was becoming and heavedhimself upward to light the lamp. Bony lowered the window and fastened it and drew down the blind.

“Let us have a drop of my allowance of spirits,” Dr. Mulray suggested. “Bring the chairs over to the table, my dear fellow. This detective business is just as interesting as chess. Would you care to look at those damaged case-books now?”