A Case of Doubtful Death Read Free Page A

saw clients across a desk, but she, having none, used the parlour table, which was always furnished with a carafe of water and a glass, so that nervous clients could moisten their throats, also a discreetly folded napkin which was often pressed into service as a handkerchief. A notebook and a number of sharp pencils were essential for recording what was said, but just as valuable to Frances was Sarah’s no less sharp observation and opinions.
    Alice Palmer was twenty-two but she seemed faded like a portrait badly painted and left in the sun. Anxiety lay upon her, a deadly unseen canker that consumed her energy. Frances suspected that the young woman had barely eaten since her brother’s disappearance. Miss Palmer’s gentleman companion, who was scarcely older, helped her to be seated and introduced himself as Walter Crowe, saying that he and Alice were engaged to be married. Frances did not normally provide nourishment for her clients, but in this case, sent for tea and sponge cake. Mr Crowe smiled sadly as if to say that nothing could tempt Alice to eat until her brother was found.
    Frances knew that asking timorous clients to talk about themselves often helped ease them into a frame of mind where they could talk more freely about the things that troubled them. She invited both Alice and Walter to tell their stories, and learned that Walter was the son of a journeyman carpenter, and, seeking to better himself, was now a joiner with his own business. Alice’s mother had died when she was seven, and she and her three brothers, of whom Henry was the eldest, had been left orphans when their father died in a railway accident four years later. Henry, who had been just fifteen at the time, had been the mainstay of the family, ensuring that all the children were kept clean and decently clothed, received an education and, in due course, found respectable employment. Her brother Bertie was now eighteen and worked in a butcher’s shop on the Grove, living above the premises, and sixteen-year-old Jackie was apprenticed to Walter and lodged with him. Alice worked in a ladies’ costume shop on the Grove, and she and Henry shared lodgings in Golborne Road.
    The tea and cake arrived, and Sarah stared at Alice with an expression of savage determination, which Frances knew very well, realising that the young woman would not be permitted to leave the house without having accepted some nourishment. Alice, moved almost to tears of terror at Sarah’s look, sipped milky tea and put a fragment of cake into her mouth.
    The Life House, Frances was told, was situated in Church Lane not far from the eastern entrance of All Souls Cemetery, Kensal Green. Henry’s duties lasted from midday to midnight every weekday after which the other orderly, a Mr Hemsley, was there for the next twelve hours. Henry had never complained about the nature of his work, or his long hours, or made any suggestion that he might seek other employment. He invariably walked home, but was careful to creep in quietly so as not to wake Alice, who was always in her bed by 11 p.m. He was a sound, reliable man, a man you might set your watch by and know that once he had promised to do a thing it was as good as done. He was the very last man to run away and put his family to worry and distress.
    Tuesday the 21 st of September had started showery, but as the day wore on the streets had gradually become occluded by a cold, grey fog. Alice had gone to her work that morning as usual, leaving Henry’s breakfast and some food for his luncheon on the table, and returned to find that the breakfast had been eaten, the dishes cleared, and the luncheon taken. She had gone to bed at her usual time, but when she awoke the next morning she saw, to her surprise and concern, that Henry’s bed had not been slept in. She was obliged to go to her work, but as soon as she was able, she sent an urgent message to Walter to say that Henry had not come home. From that moment Walter’s efforts to find