Murder on Charles Street - Leighann Dobbs Page 0,72
Mrs. Campbell sneered. “His daughter. As if she hadn’t turned a blind eye to every one of those abuses. She was crying on every corner that it had been murder! Thankfully, that matter faded before long, but his death never sat right with Dr. Gammon. It’s why he stopped seeing patients. But his early retirement meant that he had more time to spend poring over old matters. I tried other options. I tried to convince him to drop it. I even tried to steal the notes and burn them. But he kept duplicates with his partner.” Mrs. Campbell looked solemn, perhaps even regretful. “If he continued to look into the matter, I was afraid that he would suspect the truth. And who would pay for it? Mary, since she was the one who served him the cake. No. I had to protect my niece. It’s all I’ve ever tried to do!”
The older woman had a wild quality to her eyes, and Katherine feared contradicting her even long enough to ask more questions. But the longer she spoke, the more likely Harriet would return to the house. Would that make Katherine safer—or put Harriet in danger?
“Did you leave the poison for Dr. Gammon in his larder?”
Seemingly wrung of her energy, Mrs. Campbell sighed. “I did. Then I came early the next morning to discover the body. Before I ran out to alert the neighborhood, I cleaned off the dishes so no one could find traces of the concentrated cherry-laurel water I added to the marmalade. The rest of it, I simply took home and disposed of the previous night. Nobody thought to check.”
Katherine swallowed. “And the notes? Dr. Gammon’s son didn’t take them?”
Mrs. Campbell looked at her in askance. “No, of course not. He knew nothing. I destroyed them and any others I could find mentioning Lord Westing. I hated to have to go to such lengths, but it had to be done for the greater good.”
Katherine didn’t think she would ever consider murder to fall in the realm of the greater good, not even the murder of a man who abused others like Lord Westing. He was why the law was in place, to mete out punishment. It wasn’t for the likes of Katherine or Mrs. Campbell to decide who lived and who died.
The housekeeper’s gaze sharpened, and she met Katherine’s. “Now I’ll have to kill you the same way.”
A chill chased down Katherine’s spine, and she tried to wrestle her leg off the stool. Mrs. Campbell was quicker, pressing down her knee and digging Katherine’s ankle into the stool. Pain enveloped her, and she gasped, struggling to keep conscious as black spots danced across her vision. Emma started barking, which didn’t help.
“It’s too bad you were so distraught over Dr. Gammon’s death, Lady Katherine. Everyone knows you’ve been going around insinuating that he was murdered, but no one truly believes it.” Mrs. Campbell walked her fingers up Katherine’s leg to her thigh, maintaining the pressure. Katherine raised her hand, the bottle squarely in it, but Mrs. Campbell grasped it with her free hand. She had the weight of her body behind her, whereas Katherine was helpless in the chair.
The grin on Mrs. Campbell’s face was far from remorseful. “You simply could not handle being unable to solve the case. Oh yes, I know that you fancy yourself to be a detective. Too bad you didn’t discover the truth sooner.”
She bore down on Katherine with all her weight. Katherine’s ankle screamed. Emma growled and shrieked and tried to jump into Katherine’s lap to investigate, but Mrs. Campbell was in the way, wrestling for that sarding caudle.
Grunting with effort, Mrs. Campbell said through gritted teeth, “Now you will drink this caudle if I have to force it between your lips. Don’t worry, I will tell everyone how distraught you were over the case, so they’ll know exactly why you poisoned yourself.”
With a growl, Emma jumped on Mrs. Campbell’s back. When she bit down, the layers of outerwear prevented her from doing damage. A tear sounded as Emma wrenched her teeth, but it had no effect on her target. Mrs. Campbell wrestled the bottle from Katherine’s hands. As Katherine scrambled to maintain her hold, her fingers slipped over the glass, and warm gruel splashed down the front of her dress. She tried to push away the bottle and stand, but Mrs. Campbell leaned in to press her knee on Katherine’s thigh. She pinned Katherine to the chair with an arm across her