knew she was sick, but this is such a shock. When did it happen?”
“During the night,” she said. “I went to visit her yesterday, as I knew she had been sick. Her servant came to our shop earlier in the week and asked for some of our stomach mixture that she liked. I gathered that she was suffering from influenza, so I took the medicine over myself, as well as some aspirin, as it is so effective at bringing down fever.” She looked up at me for confirmation. I nodded and eased her onto one of my kitchen chairs.
“And how did she seem then?”
“She was looking flushed and seemed weak but only what was to be expected with the flu. I tried to cheer her up and mixed some of the aspirin for her. She made a fuss about taking it and we laughed at what a baby she was about medicines and sickness.
“I had no time to visit her until yesterday. I went to visit her after I finished work and was told she was sleeping, and this morning I got a message that she had died during the night.”
“How very sad,” I said. Although I was no longer the best Catholic in the world, I had an overwhelming urge to cross myself. “This influenza seems to be particularly virulent, doesn’t it?”
She looked down at her hands for a long moment before she said, “I can’t get this awful thought out of my head, Molly. I can’t stop thinking that he killed her.”
“Who? Who killed her?”
She looked up now. “Her husband, Anson.”
“Anson? Surely not.” I gave an uneasy laugh. “She had the flu, Emily. You know yourself that healthy people have been succumbing to complications of the flu. Even the woman who worked with you at the drugstore, remember?”
She frowned.
“I know it sounds awful to say this, but he never really loved her, Molly. I’ve always known that. I’ve always been convinced that he married her for her money.”
“But if he killed her, surely that would be a good way of cutting off the supply of money from her family?”
She shook her head. “Her father settled a large sum on her at her marriage. Anson will be a wealthy man whatever happens now.”
I was in a quandary. Should I tell her what I knew? Did she know that Fanny was planning to divorce him? I decided that Fanny was my client, even if she was now dead. I decided to tread cautiously. “Emily, are you sure the marriage was unhappy? Weren’t they looking forward to moving to their new house on Long Island together?”
She shook her head violently. “On the surface she acted as if all was well with their marriage, but beneath she was deeply unhappy. She didn’t talk about it much, but I could tell. He was a bully and a domineering tyrant.”
“Emily, however black his character was, he could hardly have given her influenza, could he?”
“I don’t doubt the influenza,” she said, “but when I saw her earlier in the week, she wasn’t that ill. As I said, she was always a baby about sickness. Even the smallest cold or splinter in her finger was cause for great drama. I think he took advantage of her weakened state to finish her off. Stomach complaints aren’t a usual part of influenza, are they? And yet she requested our stomach mixture. I’m wondering if he wasn’t feeding her something like arsenic.”
“That’s a serious charge,” I said, “And I don’t know how you’d prove it.” As I spoke, an awful thought crept into my mind. I had left her a note. I had tried to make it as general as possible, but perhaps a clever man could have put two and two together.
“That’s why I came to you,” she said. “I’m only a friend, and Anson never liked me. I was too clever and too independent for him, you see. I tried to persuade Fanny not to marry him when we were roommates at Vassar. But you are a detective. You know how to set about these things. Will you not try to find out the truth? I won’t rest until I know for sure.”
“Emily, this would be a criminal case. A matter for the police. I shouldn’t be meddling in it.”
“But you know what the police would say, don’t you? Female hysteria.” She sounded almost hysterical herself now. “They’d say it was influenza and I was imagining things.”
I thought this was all too probable.
“Listen,” I said. “My young