Charles Todd: The red door

The sister who had brought him had quietly shut the door behind him.

He found himself thinking that Matron had had a very difficult few hours, first searching the clinic and dealing with the police, and then answering the questions of Teller's agitated family.

"Do you have any reason to think Mr. Teller was intending to do himself harm?" he asked her. "He's been very ill, I'm told."

"We haven't been able to diagnose his illness," she said. "But there's reason to believe he was disturbed about something and his distress took a physical form. The fact that he recovered so quickly leads us to hope that his mental state was also restored to normal."

She hadn't answered his question. "Is he likely to kill himself?"

She looked at him directly. "We can't answer that."

The door behind him opened again, and the same probationer ushered in a tall, slim woman with fair hair who was wearing a dark blue walking dress. Her eyes were red with crying, her face pale.

Rutledge guessed at once who she was. Rising, he went to her and took her hand, identifying himself.

"Mrs. Teller? I'm so sorry to learn of your husband's disappearance. The Yard will do everything in its power to return him to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you," Jenny Teller replied, her voice still thick with tears. He led her to the second chair, which was already placed to one side of Matron's desk. In doing so, he glimpsed Matron's face. She was not happy that he had so quickly taken the interview away from her.

Jenny Teller took a breath. "Has there been any news?" she asked, hope in her voice.

"That's why I'm here, to collect more information to aid in our search."

"But I've told the sergeant-"

"Sergeant Biggin has noted it in his report. But sometimes as we ask our questions, we are able to elicit new details that could be useful. Would you mind telling me a little more about your husband's illness?"

She began haltingly to describe her husband's journey to London and how it had ended, with their family doctor sending him to the Belvedere Clinic for further examination. "I didn't want to go to London with him. We'd had words the night before-about Harry going to school so soon-and now I blame myself for not being there when he became ill. We might have found help for him sooner-and perhaps he would have recovered sooner-and none of this would have happened." She found a handkerchief in her pocket and pressed it to her eyes, then took a deep breath, giving Rutledge a watery smile. "This has been the worst five days of my life-"

"And there was nothing wrong with your son? Then or later?"

"No, he was and is perfectly fine. I can't imagine what the Montleighs thought of me, but I'd caught some of Walter's fear, and I'm afraid I sounded rather-hovering."

"Did you have any idea what was wrong with your husband?"

"My first thought was that his malaria was returning. But after I'd told him that Harry was all right, Walter tried to step out of the motorcar, and he couldn't. It took three of us-my housekeeper was the third person-to get him into the house, where Dr. Fielding could examine him properly."

"What was his opinion?"

"Walter's heart was racing, and Dr. Fielding asked me if he'd had a shock or bad news-that sort of thing-but of course I didn't know, and Walter couldn't remember anything happening to him. And the motorcar was all right, there hadn't been a crash."

Rutledge turned to Matron. "And the doctors here examined him as soon as he was brought in?"

"Yes. Mr. Teller had a history of malaria, and he'd lived abroad. We had several specialists in to see him, and one was concerned about parasites. But Mr. Teller hadn't returned to the field since before the war, and therefore parasites weren't likely. Dr. Sheldon, an expert in tropical medicine, came to examine him, and he could find no evidence of disease."

She glanced at Jenny Teller and then went on. "We asked another specialist to speak with Mr. Teller, to see if his problems were more likely to be the result of some illness of the mind. But Mr. Teller was quite rational in his answers. And then that night-the second day of his having come to the Belvedere-he refused his dinner, turned his face to the wall, and was unresponsive to the staff or to Mrs. Teller. And he was that way for the remainder of the week. We could see that his paralysis was growing steadily worse, and we had to do everything for him-from lifting a glass of water to his lips to helping him turn in bed."

Hamish said, "Ye ken, there was something on his mind."

Rutledge nearly answered him aloud. Instead, he said to Jenny Teller, "Do you know of anything that was troubling your husband?"

"No. I'd have told the doctors straightaway." She sniffed. "I was the one in distress, over Harry going to school. Walter was insistent that we carry out his father's wishes. And his father has been dead for six years!"

"Why was Mr. Teller so determined to send your son away? Did he and the boy get along?"

She stared at him. "Of course they got along. They're very close. It's his father's fault. Harry is the only heir, you see. Neither of Walter's brothers have children, and his sister isn't married. There's hemophilia in the family. Edwin suffers from it, and Peter's wife, Susannah, is his first cousin, his mother's sister's child. So when Harry was born, Walter's father put his name down for Harrow, where all the heirs have gone for generations. It's a family tradition. And I have nothing to say about that. I just didn't want Harry to go so soon."

"Where is your husband's family now?"

"Driving around, searching for Walter. They spoke to the police, and then hurried away. They believed he must still be in the vicinity."

"And your son?"

"My sister Mary has been caring for him. We've tried not to worry him. And he enjoys staying with her. She spoils him so."

There was nothing more he could ask her, and so Rutledge, assuring her that everything possible was being done, took his leave.

He went next to look at Teller's room, but it offered nothing. The cupboard where patients kept their street clothes was empty, and nothing in the drawer by the bed or even under the mattress offered any clues to the man's state of mind or his intentions.

He spent the next half hour meeting with Teller's physicians, and found that they were reluctant to admit that they had no idea what had struck the man down. The general opinion was that he was in mental distress.

Thanking them, Rutledge remembered Bowles's fear that Teller might be carrying a new plague and asked if there was any possibility that Teller was contagious.

There was immediate assurance that he was not. But Rutledge wouldn't have been surprised to learn that they had crossed their fingers behind their backs.

Dr. Harmon said, "The mind is a curious thing, Mr. Rutledge. It can create demons where there are none and remember events that never happened, and it can cause the body to fall ill." He smiled. "My son is sick whenever he has an appointment with the dentist. Quite sick, with a fever. That's a simple example, but it illustrates the power of the mind."

Rutledge knew all too well how powerful the mind was, and how, once it had fixed itself on a course, altering it was nearly impossible. He wondered what the good doctor would make of Hamish.

He asked, "Would this lead Mr. Teller to harm himself?"

"That's unfortunately a strong possibility. I think he willed himself to die. And when that didn't happen, he came to the conclusion that other measures would be necessary. I'd keep a watch on the river, if I were you."

Rutledge thanked him and left. Sergeant Biggin was just coming in the clinic door as he was walking out, and he stopped to speak to Rutledge.

"We've found no sign of him, sir. I've had men searching the streets for the past hour or more and we're circulating Mr. Teller's description and that of the clothing he was wearing as well. Mrs. Teller was kind enough to help us there. You wouldn't think that a man who had been as ill as Mr. Teller was said to be could disappear so quickly. We've even had a man walking through the rooms at the museum, on the unlikely chance that he wandered in there."