Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,25

dead, after all, and unless he confided with someone…”

“He told me he was concerned about an old patient. No, he didn’t discuss the details, but when we spoke with Lady Dalhousie last night, who did she immediately bring up? Lord Westing and his premature death. Dr. Gammon treated him. Don’t you think it’s likely that had been the patient weighing on his mind?”

Silence reigned in the room, punctuated only by the light sound of the scratches on Emma’s belly. The guests shifted in their seats, uncomfortable. None of her friends looked Katherine in the eye. They still didn’t think it was murder.

The silence was broken only as Harriet and McTavish returned to the room. The latter stopped in the doorway, carrying a dainty silver tea service between his large hands. “Och now, what are we discussing that has ye lot looking so grim?”

Katherine’s stomach gurgled at the smell of the warm scones Harriet carried in a basket. Enough of them towered precariously atop the mound to feed an army. She set them down on the table, leaving enough space for the tea service. As McTavish continued his task, Harriet set about passing out the plates.

Katherine answered, “Dr. Gammon’s death. His murder.” She glared across the table at Pru, who glared back.

As McTavish offered the contents of the basket to each person in the room in turn, Katherine helped herself to three. Each appeared to be a different flavor, judging by the flecks of color baked into them. Meanwhile, Harriet filled the teacups. She worked seamlessly with McTavish in silence, each of them serving the group without resorting to coordinating themselves with speech. Katherine bit her tongue, unwilling to point out the congruency between the pair, considering Harriet’s dislike of the man.

“Oh yes,” Harriet said without looking up from her work. “What did Mrs. Ramsey have to say? Did she see anyone suspicious?”

Katherine sighed. “She did not. She told me she didn’t see any carriages stop the night before last.”

As she added sugar lumps to the tea, Harriet said, “Emma didn’t bark that night. I was up with her, as you know.”

“Emma was lethargic from her illness. Perhaps someone arrived on foot rather than by carriage.”

Having offered his spoils to the entire room, McTavish returned to her side and offered her the basket once more. Katherine had yet to take a bite, despite the scrumptious smells of berries, spice, and even chocolate wafting from the warm baked goods. She shook her head.

“Och now, ye need to keep up yer womanly figure. Have another,” McTavish said with a wink.

Wayland stopped scratching Emma’s belly and coughed into his fist.

Although McTavish’s forwardness had initially caused Katherine some alarm, she’d since grown accustomed to his character. He was harmless. She helped herself to another scone, the most expedient means of convincing him to retreat. He did, helping himself to two of the remaining treats before stepping back.

As Harriet finished doling out the tea, McTavish held out one of his two prizes for her. She accepted it with reluctance and took up position next to him.

Katherine tore off the end of the scone and put it in her mouth. It had a light citrusy taste that made her sigh in happiness. After she swallowed, she informed the group, “This is a valid clue to a valid investigation. If Lord Westing’s death was premature, his daughter might have killed the physician responsible out of revenge for her father.”

Wayland half-turned to raise his eyebrow at her. “If so, why would she wait so long? Lord Westing died over a year ago.”

Katherine opened her mouth and shut it several times. To buy herself time to think, she shoved another piece of the scone into her mouth. “Perhaps it’s because of Dr. Gammon’s worries. Perhaps new evidence came to light, and Lord Westing’s daughter confronted him. Or he was taking notes—they contain all the evidence, even if I didn’t read them. He might have found something in his records, felt guilty, and approached her in order to make amends.”

In the silence that followed her statement, nearly everyone suddenly seemed consumed by tasting the scones Pru had brought. Wayland, however, spent the bulk of his energy keeping his scone away from Emma, who was still on his lap. Although no one contradicted her theory, no one endorsed it, either. Katherine chewed angrily, practicing her next attempt at persuading them that she was, in fact, correct. Of those in the room, the two professional detectives—she and Wayland—were the two who thought the