| |
THE NEXT MORNING, DETECTIVE Jack Winston and Constable Thomas Miller returned to Doctor Cole’s house. Winston’s palms dampened as he crossed the threshold. He tried not to frown as he wiped them on his handkerchief, listening to the lead constable from the overnight watch give his report. Nobody had entered the house during the night. A maid had arrived shortly before the detective. They had asked her to remain in the kitchen. Winston folded the handkerchief and returned it to his pocket. He set his jaw. It was time to face facts: Cole would not return, nor would he turn himself in.
Few clothes remained in Cole’s bedroom, and the kettle Winston had filled the day before sat on the stove, still full. The confused maid stood in the kitchen.
“I’m not sure where they are, Detective. He said nothing about leaving when he gave me yesterday off. Only that he intended to spend time with his daughter, and that he would look after their meals. Will they return tomorrow?”
“I doubt it, miss. You are best to seek another position. I expect neither Cole nor his daughter will return.”
She stared blankly, twisting her apron. “He told me he had patients this morning. They will start arriving any minute. What do I tell them?”
Winston ushered the girl to the kitchen table, then lit the stove. “Constable Miller will arrange something. Let’s get you a cup of tea.” He ignored the shocked expressions of both Miller and the maid and set about warming the water. He turned to Miller. “Go to Doctor Evans’ house. Ask if he’ll accept extra patients today.”
Miller waved his agreement and left Winston seated across from the maid.
“Does Doctor Cole owe you any money?”
Cradling the teacup between her hands, the girl lowered her head. “He pays me every Friday. I’ll be short for this week.”
Winston reached into his jacket and pulled out a few coins. “Here. This should cover this week and next. If Cole returns, I will tell him you have left to find another family to work for. I assure you if he returns, he won’t need your services.” Winston placed the money on the table. She stashed the coins within her dress. “If you need a reference, you can have any prospective employer contact me.” The girl raised her eyes to meet Winston’s, relief washing over her face.
“Thank you, Detective.”
“You can go now,” he said. She stood and bobbed her head, stopping short of a curtsy before leaving the room.
Ten minutes later, Miller returned, passing the maid as she left through the back door. Winston stood, motioning for Miller to follow him up the stairs. “Look at this, Thomas.” He led the constable into the guest room and pointed from the doorway. “There is a space there.”
Miller stepped inside and turned around, confusion clouding his face. “I can see there is.”
“It’s well hidden ... in here.” Winston pulled on the armoire. It swung to reveal the small room where the men had been kept.
“How did you know it was there?”
“The doctor let me walk around. I paced off the dimensions of the rooms. The guest room was off when I compared it to the length of the hallway.” Winston recalled the room where Cole saw patients on the first floor. “And this isn’t the only hidden room in the house. Cole’s examination room is only accessible from his study.”
Miller looked over Winston’s shoulder into the room behind him. “What’s in there?”
“A small bed and medical equipment. The doctor kept the men inside. He transferred their blood into his daughter.” Winston stepped away from the armoire.
“Why?”
“Why build a secret space? Cole sought a cure for Liza, his daughter. Remember when you interviewed the maid the first time? She talked about the girl being sick. Like any father would, Cole longed to find a way to heal her. With his medical knowledge, he figured out how, though I’m not entirely sure I understand the mechanism. Whatever he did, it worked. When I spoke with her yesterday, she appeared healthy.”
Miller pushed a breath through pursed lips and moved closer to look into the room. “But why those men?” he asked, turning a puzzled face to Winston.
“Familiarity?” Winston edged toward the hidden space. “He knew their medical histories, knew they were young and healthy. He believed their blood would save her. Like Melodia Spectre said, they died for love.” Winston remained still as Miller entered the hidden room, unable to follow him. Miller picked up a bottle from the table.
“Do you think they were the first he’d experimented on?”
Winston felt in his pocket for the outline of Ellis’s rock. “Almost certainly not. How many people pass through this city? Many could go missing. Many may have done. We might never know.” He knocked on the wall beside the armoire. “This would be rather clever, were it not so evil. Now, look at this.” He crossed to the bookcase and pulled it from the wall to reveal the entrance to Liza’s room.
Before the constable could say anything, Winston said, “Stay here,” then jogged to Liza’s room and pulled back an armoire in her room, leaving both doors open. He caught his breath, then stepped through the passageway. “It was easy for him to access his patients, and to access his daughter.” Winston pointed to the hidden room and closed his eyes against a rising swell of panic. “Cole trapped me there last night.”
Miller, speechless with wonder, moved into the space.
Winston called into the secret chamber. “See how the bed is on wheels? Cole moved the men to be closer to his daughter when he transfused the blood.”
“And did he give the men the daughter’s blood?”
Winston stepped back into Liza’s room. It was filled with the trinkets and treasures of a child. “I don’t think so. She was sick, remember? He gave their blood to her as a cure. It likely took him several attempts to get it right. Then he may have drawn too much, or perhaps too frequently, for the men to survive. In the end, he only got it right for his daughter.”
Miller surveyed the room, shaking his head in astonishment. “Have you searched his office? Did he leave a clue about where they were going?”
Winston crossed his arms. “I didn’t search anywhere last night. I just needed to leave this place.”
After searching through the doctor’s files for twenty minutes, Winston dropped into the doctor’s chair. “Nothing. I’m not sure what I’d expected.” He raked a hand through his hair. “We can do nothing more here.”
Before leaving, Winston spoke to the constable stationed at the front door, advising him to inform any of Cole’s patients who may show up that Doctor Evans would see them.
“How long will a constable remain here?” asked Miller.
“Chief Constable Philpott will spare him for the rest of the day. The port and train station have not reported any sign of Cole and his daughter, and they would have by now, I’m sure. They must be travelling by coach. There is, I suppose, a faint chance that Cole will return, but the city’s attention will move on, and so must we.”