This time the sobbing didn’t pervade my entire psyche; rather it resonated in the recesses of my conscious mind, like water burbling from a fountain. I switched on Dr Geisler’s desk lamp, not surprised to discover that Bethany had cleared away the notebooks, folders, and books he kept around him in chaotic heaps. With a sinking heart, I took in the polished desktop, empty now, save the silver inkwell and a blotter. I sat down in the chair, wondering if a fresh bottle of ink was in the offing, or if I should just bring my pen in here and refill it from the silver well.
As I sat down, my foot hit Bethany’s leather satchel, which she had tucked under the desk. It tipped over. Papers slipped out and came to rest in the shape of a fan. Two brown bottles fell out and rolled across the wooden floor, hit the baseboard, and rolled back towards me before coming to rest. The apothecary labels read Digoxin – Poison! and Laudanum – Poison.
Both bottles came from an apothecary in London. I put them back in the bag, which I leaned against the side of the writing desk. It didn’t take long for me to put the scattered papers into some semblance of order, but as I stuffed them back into the satchel, a letter from the San Francisco Bank of Commerce addressed to Miss Minna Summerly, in care of Dr Matthew Geisler, The Geisler Institute, caught my eye.
As soon as I read the name on the envelope, Alysse stopped her incessant weeping. She didn’t make a sound. I began to slip it back into the satchel and the weeping started again. I pulled the letter out, and the weeping stopped. The silence spoke volumes. I knew what Alysse wanted me to do. I stuffed the letter in my pocket.’
‘Sarah?’
I yelped as I sat up, bumping my head on the corner of the desk.
‘Ouch.’ I rubbed the place on my temple.
Bethany stood before me, an inquiring look in her eyes. ‘I didn’t mean to startle you.’
‘My pen is out of ink,’ I said.
‘So you went looking for some in my satchel?’
‘It was an accident. I kicked it, and knocked the papers astray. I put them back.’ I stood up, resisting the urge to flee.
‘Forgive me. I didn’t mean to accuse you of snooping. Would you like me to have a look at your head? You banged the desk quite hard.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘The ink is behind you.’
She set a Thermos on the desk, and after I had scooted out of her way, she picked up the satchel, rifled through its papers, and shut the latch with a resounding click. If she noticed the missing letter, she didn’t let on.
‘Are you going to the hospital?’
‘I am.’
‘Thanks for the ink,’ I said.
I sat down at my desk and waited for my heart to stop hammering in my chest. What a liar I had become. How easily I had stolen. The letter burned in my pocket. I thought of going back into the office, handing it to Bethany, and saying … what? Soon I heard the no-nonsense clip of Bethany’s heels as she set off to the hospital to minister to her husband. The moment to return the stolen letter had passed. After locking my office door, I set the letter on my desk. How could I open the envelope without anyone knowing? In the detective novels that I read so regularly, a steaming kettle was used to loosen the seal, but I had no kettle.
I thought of the stack of opened correspondence in Dr Geisler’s desk drawer. What if I just opened this letter, read it, and put it there? Bethany was overworked. She was tired and had so much on her mind. Would she see this letter from the bank in the pile and assume that she had seen it before, had tucked it out of sight? I took the brass letter opener from my drawer, opened the letter, and without any guilt, read it.
Much to my disappointment, the letter did not contain anything earth-shattering. It was a bank statement with five or six cancelled cheques, mostly made out to cash, and all signed by Dr Geisler. There was nothing strange about this, as I knew that Dr Geisler managed Minna’s affairs. Why had Alysse wanted me to take this letter?
‘I’ll give it to Zeke.’ My words echoed in the empty room. I stuffed the envelope in my pocket, and spent the rest of the day working.
* * *
By five, my body needed a good walk and fresh air, but my brain was too exhausted to manage it. At five-thirty, I trudged up the stairs, ready for my bath. After a good soak I would take the letter I had stolen from Bethany’s satchel to Zeke. He could do with it as he pleased. Alysse wanted me to see it. Maybe Zeke could figure out why.
I had just put my key in the lock, when I heard a moan coming from Minna’s room. Without thinking, I pushed open the door just a crack. Minna sat at the writing table. A leather kit holding a glass syringe and four needles lay open in front of her. I recognized the vial of laudanum that I had knocked out of Bethany’s satchel earlier that day. Minna held a pen in her hand She had started to write a note.
Bethany stood behind her, holding a gun to the back of Minna’s head.