words of encouragement, ask if he could get her anything, and then beat a hasty departure.”
“If he could get her anything?” I picked up on this. “And did he get her anything?”
Mrs. Bradley shook her head. “She had lost all interest in food and drink. I had to coax a sip of water down her. And the poor man seemed quite worried. I really can’t believe . . .”
“I’m sure this is a wild supposition,” I said, “but it happened so quickly after she had hired me.”
“I agree, it does look suspicious,” she said. “But the doctor was here all the time. He would have noticed if anything was amiss. He told me he had treated so many patients this spring in which a simple influenza turned virulent and fatal.”
“I may well be worrying you for nothing,” I said, “but I felt it was my duty to tell you.”
She eyed me for a moment. “Is that why you are here?”
“What do you mean?”
“I wondered whether this visit was to remind me that Fanny had hired you and never had a chance to pay you.”
“Absolutely not.” I felt my face flush angry red. “I have been looking into her death on my own time and with no thought of recompense because I have a strong sense of justice and if she had been murdered, I didn’t want to see a murderer get away with his crime.”
She came over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry, my dear. You’re upset. We all are. Fanny’s death has taken a light from our lives. My husband suffers especially. His only child. I don’t know if he’ll ever get over it.”
I rose to my feet, too. “I’m very sorry for both of you. She was a lovely young woman. I grew fond of her in the short time I knew her.”
“She was adored by everyone,” Mrs. Bradley said. “She had so many friends. I had to keep them away from her in the end. It grieved me to do so.”
“So who did come to visit her during that last week?” I asked, trying to keep my tone casual. “We met Dorcas, of course . . .”
“Poor dear Dorcas. I feel so badly that she must have contracted the influenza from her visit to my daughter.”
“It does seem that way,” I agreed.
“They all came—Minnie and Bella and of course sweet Alice was here all the time. She and Fanny have known each other since they were knee-high to a grasshopper. They were as close as sisters.”
“Alice,” I said. “If they were as close as sisters, I wonder if she told Alice of her intention to divorce her husband?”
“I have no idea,” Mrs. Bradley said. “You have to understand that Fanny was extremely proud, Miss Murphy. She may not have wished to share this odious fact with anyone until she was ready to make her move.” She paused and looked at me sharply. “You are sure about this Fifi person?”
“Oh yes. I visited her yesterday. She told me that Anson and she had been friendly for two years but that he had come to break off completely with her a week ago. Just before Fanny died, in fact.”
“Then his conscience did get the better of him,” she said. “I knew the lad was good at heart.”
I opened my mouth to say “unless he had found someone to replace her,” then thought better of it.
“Do you know Alice’s address?” I asked. “I think that maybe I should talk to her. I would be interested to know whether Fanny had confided in her.”
“I just hope Alice has not contracted the deadly sickness,” Mrs. Bradley said. “I have worried about that ever since we got the news about poor Dorcas. You see, Alice was the one person Fanny really wanted to have beside her. Such a loyal girl. She would have sat with her day and night if I’d allowed her to.”
“Really?” I asked, my voice sounding sharper than I intended. “And does she live near here?”
“She does—but do you think it is prudent for you to visit her? I don’t know if I want our little discussion to go beyond this room.”
“I assure you I will tread with caution,” I said. “I will ask only the most discreet questions.”
“I would like Fanny’s memory to be treasured by her friends. I wouldn’t like them to think . . .”
“I certainly would not dream of casting aspersions on her husband unless I were completely sure of my