Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,35

walkway two doors down. Mrs. Campbell! “I have to go next door. I won’t be long.”

As she rushed out of the room, Harriet called after her, “Katherine!” Her voice was filled with exasperation. Distantly, she added, “Wear your pattens this time so you don’t get your hem deep in mud.”

“The mud is frozen,” Katherine muttered under her breath, her words swallowed by the clatter of her steps on the stairs.

She exited the house—after donning her pattens, as Harriet had asked—none too soon. She didn’t know how long Mrs. Campbell would linger at Dr. Gammon’s house. This might be her only chance to speak with the housekeeper, and she dearly needed some answers. Given that Mrs. Campbell was more embroiled in Dr. Gammon’s physician work than Katherine had thought, she could be a very handy woman to know. Not to mention, Katherine still needed to look for the notes Dr. Gammon had left behind. His son had interrupted her the last time, and she didn’t want to gain access to an old friend’s house by criminal means. However, those notes might prove pivotal in her investigation. She couldn’t admit defeat.

And if the patient he had been worried over was Lord Westing, Mrs. Campbell might know more. With a niece in the household and close ties to the doctor who had administered the treatment, she should know more about the business than Katherine had initially thought.

As Katherine knocked on the door, she held her breath, hoping Mrs. Campbell was the only person inside. If Mr. Gammon found her here again, he would almost certainly cast her out. Perhaps he would also mention something to Bow Street. Although Katherine didn’t think they would interfere, she didn’t want to be named a suspect in a case they had formerly believed to be an accident.

A moment later, Mrs. Campbell opened the door. She looked weary, with lines around her nose and mouth. As she saw Katherine on the step, she frowned. “Aren’t you…?”

“Lady Katherine Irvine. I live two doors down and was a friend of Dr. Gammon. You didn’t seem in the right state of mind for me to talk to you yesterday. Do you have a moment now? I’d like to make certain you’ve recovered.”

The corners of Mrs. Campbell’s eyes crinkled. “I’m recovered well enough.”

“Are you certain? It must have been a great shock to find your employer in the study like that.”

A shadow crossed the older woman’s face, and she drew back, though not enough for Katherine to push into the house next to her. Katherine balled her fists, refusing to admit to the cold. She had more important matters than the physical upon which to dwell, even if her ears burned.

“I knew there was a possibility I might find him that way one day. He isn’t as young as he once was, but…” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I suppose I wasn’t prepared for the reality.”

Katherine nodded, sullen. She might have been inured to death, having seen it so often that the initial shock had worn away, but the picture of Dr. Gammon in his study chair still haunted her. She suspected it would until she got to the bottom of this investigation. Her friend deserved justice, and she would be the one to deliver it. “Shouldn’t you be at home? It might be better if you took some time to recover.”

Taking a deep breath, the old woman seemed to steel herself. She shook her head. “Mr. Gammon has kept me on while he decides what to do with the estate. Soon, I won’t be able to live off my poultices alone, so I’ll take the work as long as I can.”

“But today? He died only two days ago.”

Mrs. Campbell made no response.

Katherine was spending far too much time commiserating. If the woman truly was so concerned about her position that she would return to a place that caused her pain to enter, perhaps Katherine ought to have a serious talk with Harriet about hiring her on to help the townhouse. Not today—Katherine was far too busy—but the next time the topic arose and she thought Harriet might receive it favorably, she would ask. Katherine didn’t want to do her old friend the disservice of hiring someone without consulting her, particularly if that someone might think themselves in a superior position. After all, Katherine doubted Mrs. Campbell would lower herself to working as a parlor maid when she had been a housekeeper for so long.

For now, it didn’t matter. Katherine