And then I watched very closely while trying to appear not to. Dr Laidlaw was doing her scared rabbit routine again, her eyes seeming to take up half her face. Tot Laidlaw, though, was far more interesting. The geniality was gone, the smirk, the crinkling at the eyes, every last twinkle – quite gone. And he was sweating, and none too lightly either; droplets gathering into rivulets and coursing down his brow. For the first time I saw that there was more than just the family nose to show that his sister and he were sprung from the same source. With his face pale and his eyes suddenly dark, and with that look of dismay spreading over him like a stain, he might have been her twin. It took him a full minute to shake himself back to life and say something.
‘Why, my dear Mrs Gilver, I hardly know what to say. I’m almost flattered, it’s almost a compliment. We’ve really made you so comfortable with all of this’ – he broke off and waved around at the drawing room – ‘that you’ve forgotten what Laidlaw’s is? This Hydropathic Establishment is a hospital, dear lady. A hospital, not a hotel. I could show you the licences and other papers to prove it to you. And cleanliness and hygiene are watchwords here. So fret not, my dear lady, fret not at all.’
‘So when was it last cleaned?’ said Alec, cutting through all the soft soap.
‘As recently as a month ago,’ Tot Laidlaw said. He seemed to believe his answer scored a point for him, but Alec and I knew better.
Tot made an excuse shortly afterwards, rose, bowed and walked off, managing to get the swagger back into his stride on his way down the room so that by the time he reached the end of it and passed out into the hall he was quite his old self again.
‘I must be running along too,’ said Dr Laidlaw. ‘I have some work to do.’
‘Did that pretty child give you the bundle of clothes, Dr Laidlaw?’ I said. ‘From Mrs Cronin, via me.’
‘Yes,’ said Dr Laidlaw miserably. ‘Yes, she did.’
‘Rather astonishing, eh?’ I said. ‘What a coincidence!’
‘A coincidence?’ she said. ‘You don’t think then that it… wraps things up?’
‘I suppose if one believed in such things as ghosts one might say she can rest in peace now,’ I said. ‘But I’m not much of a one for hocus-pocus. Mumbo-jumbo, call it what you like. Are you?’
The doctor muttered something incomprehensible under her breath and not hiding her thankfulness even a bit she hurried away.
‘Well,’ said Hugh. ‘If that’s a typical example of the kinds of scenes I’m missing by staying out of your game, Osborne, I can’t say I’m sorry.’ I rolled my eyes but left Alec to navigate this blatant attempt to sneer.
‘Oh, you toughen up over time,’ Alec said, masterfully. ‘So, Dandy, you were supposed to think the spirit of Mrs Addie wanted her clothes back, got them, and all lived happily ever after.’
‘Or mouldered quietly in the grave. Exactly,’ I said. ‘Unfortunately she won’t be allowed to. When are you setting off for town?’
‘Tomorrow, first thing,’ said Alec. Perhaps he regretted his snub to Hugh for he turned to him now with a rueful smile. ‘I must to Edinburgh,’ he said, ‘to persuade the woman’s relations to order an exhumation. We think they’ll find poison if they trouble to check, don’t we?’
‘Poison?’ said Hugh, looking sharply down into his glass of whisky. Then he cleared his throat and took a careless swallow of it. ‘What about you, Dandy?’
‘Interesting as it was to discover that they cleaned the pool after Mrs Addie died,’ I said, ‘I still need to search for clues in the room where we think the murder was done.’ I was over-egging but only a churl could blame me. ‘We know which room it is but it’s kept under lock and key, as you can imagine.’
‘The murder room, eh?’ said Hugh. ‘You will be careful, won’t you?’ I could not help but smile.
‘I shall,’ I said. ‘As ever. And thank you.’
‘Only, God knows,’ Hugh said, ‘there are some very strange people about.’ He nodded to where a small procession of mediums with Loveday Merrick at its head was making its stately way towards the door. Mr Merrick saw Alec and me, tipped the silver top of his cane to his temple, and moved on.
‘Do you know him?’ Hugh said.
‘Not exactly,’ Alec said. ‘But I get the impression he knows us.’
‘Who is he?’ said Hugh. ‘Extraordinary-looking chap, even for here.’
I considered briefly telling him that one little murder was not the half of it, that there were ghosts and grandmothers and savage histories piling up behind every door and spirit mediums rushing to greet them.
‘He’s not connected to the case,’ I said firmly. How happy I would be if that were so.
12
Thursday, 24th October 1929
When I took myself off back to the Russian and Turkish it was only to find out what keys there were and who kept them. When I saw Regina’s face fall at the sight of me, however, I decided to turn the thumbscrews one last time to see what I could see.
I folded my clothes and handed them over. She took them away and returned. She held out the lead-lined receptacle and in it I dropped my few items of jewellery and my little purse. All of this was done in total silence.
‘I shall want a rub-down, Regina,’ I said.
‘Salt and water on the marble, madam?’ she said. ‘That’s all we’re doing today. We’re too short-handed to offer oil rubs up in the private rooms.’
I wished I was as intimately acquainted with the Hydro’s catalogue as was Hugh. After his hours of browsing he would have known right away whether this restriction was set out in the pages of the brochure – where to be fair, there were many detailed exceptions and codicils along the lines of half-hour Nauheim treatments being almost free if one combined them with Schott exercises, but rather pricey if undertaken all on their own – or if Regina had just decided off her own bat that she was not going to let me get her alone in a private treatment room, not even for ready money.
‘Short-handed?’ I said. ‘Is Mrs Cronin having another afternoon off?’
‘Mrs Cronin is busy,’ Regina said. At that unfortunate moment we both heard a door being swept open and the unmistakable sound of Mrs Cronin in her indoor shoes squeaking along the oiled boards to the hot rooms. Regina coloured and bobbed and bore the lead-lined bag away.
‘Give me fifteen minutes to get nice and warm,’ I said. ‘And then come and find me.’ I remembered to look as she was departing to see whether there was a ring of keys anywhere about her. There was not.
I had had no intention of venturing into the steam room or plunging pool, but by a chance as I was entering the cool room someone was leaving and in the warm room someone else was moving up again and so, for just a moment, there was a clear view right through the two sets of curtains all the way to the end, where who should be standing and wiping perspiration from her forehead but Mrs Petrushka Molyneaux herself, along with a quorum of underlings. I supposed that she had to come to the Turkish baths to lord it now; everywhere else she was merely one of Loveday Merrick’s minions.
Would they go straight to the sprays? I wondered. Or would the whole pack of them venture into the Turkish? It was worth finding out and so I doubled back and sprinted along the side of the pool, past the marble temple and into the steam. I climbed to the top shelf and lay down, trying to breathe silently and become invisible.
It was then that I found out just what a worthy system the cool, warm and hot rooms are, for sprinting straight from the changing cubicle to the steam was a very different matter. Within minutes I was feeling giddy, a few minutes more and I felt as sick as I ever had, Channel crossings included. I told myself to leave, but could not summon the momentum to push myself up and begin moving. I decided instead to have a little snooze and hoped to wake feeling better.