her name was Miss Maya Patel, late of Addington Square.”
“I don’t know any Maya Patel. Nor does my son.”
Maisie waited a second or two longer before replying.
“But you do know Miss Usha Pramal, I believe. Wasn’t she a member of staff in your household until several months ago?”
Jesmond Martin picked up a fountain pen and pulled off the lid, which he then pressed home again. “Miss Dobbs, I am a very busy man. I arrive at my office early, and I leave late. I have to consider not only my wife’s health, the extra expense of her condition and a full-time nurse, but my son’s education and future. I am not a wealthy man in the way of earls and kings, but a man who has to work hard for every penny—and I have a necessary staff here to consider, too. The housekeeper is responsible for all matters concerning the running of the household—I simply pay the bills. I do not know the name of every person employed in my house, small though it may seem by baronial standards. My first consideration is my wife and my son. There you have it.” He threw the pen on the blotting pad and leaned back, his arms folded.
“Of course, and I understand that completely, Mr. Martin; however, we have been given a remit from you to find your son, and this is part of our investigation. I am sure you understand that some distress might have inspired him to run away. Miss Usha Pramal was not only a member of your household, albeit on a very ad hoc basis—I am sure you would recall her in time, as she was a person most beloved by all who knew her, and I understand much admired by your son, especially as she helped your wife to gain some freedom from the pain and distress she suffered due to those dreadful headaches.”
“Oh, you mean that bloody woman and her potions.” Martin unfolded his arms and once again rested his hands on the desk, fingers splayed. “I am a fair man, and broad-minded, but I could not have it. I just could not have it, a woman assuming the role of physician with no respect for my wishes and for the health of my wife. I could not allow such insubordination to continue. I admit—I gave orders for her to be dismissed at once.”
“Despite the fact that she helped your wife?”
“I don’t think that’s true—it was all in her mind.”
“But it helped—she was free from pain, I understand.”
“Miss Dobbs, I was not aware that my instructions to find my son included express permission to interrogate my staff and—it would seem—harass my wife.”
“Mr. Martin, I feel I must tell you that in my business I am often responsible for several cases at once—like you, I have a staff to support my work. But when two quite different cases intersect, it adds another dimension to my investigation, and I am probably more exacting in my questioning of those involved.”
“What do you mean?” Martin was staring at Maisie now.
“Maya Patel was the second murder of this type, as I mentioned. She was killed by a single shot to the head.” Maisie touched the middle of her forehead. “The first was Usha Pramal.”
Though it was slight, Maisie could not fail to notice Jesmond Martin blink several times in quick succession.
On the way back to her office, Maisie thought about the meeting with Jesmond Martin. What was his history? And how might she discover more about him? Could Robert Martin really be the “Martin Robertson” who had discovered Maya Patel, and who might now be living rough close to the place where Usha Pramal was discovered? According to his father, and subsequent corroboration from his school, Robert Martin was fourteen years of age. Usha Pramal was still in India when he was born, so a connection could be ruled out there. But what of his mother? What of her past, and could there possibly be any thread to link her to India?
Chapter Fifteen
Mr. Pramal’s hotel was a dreary narrow building close to Victoria Station, and of the same age, built to accommodate temporary visitors, travelers awaiting the next boat train, or those who needed a few hours sleep before moving on—and sometimes those few hours sleep might have been in the company of a woman who claimed a few shillings for the pleasure of her warmth and comfort. This was not a good hotel, but it was likely cheap and money