William Monk 04 - A Sudden Fearful Death

“You’d better tell us exactly what happened to the poor lady. Who is she? And for that matter, who are you?”
    “Her name is Mrs. Mary Farraline, from Edinburgh,” Hester replied. “I am Hester Latterly, employed to accompany her from Edinburgh to London in order to give her her medicine and see that she was comfortable.” It sounded hollow now, even absurd.
    “I see. What was the medicine for, miss?”
    “A heart ailment, I believe. I was not told any details of her condition, only that the medicine must be given to her regularly, how much, and at what time.”
    “And did you give it to her, miss?” He regarded her under his eyebrows. “Ye’r sure you did?”
    “Yes, absolutely sure.” She rose to her feet and pulled down the medicine cabinet, opened it, and showed him the empty vials.
    “There’s two gone,” the Stationmaster observed.
    “That’s right. I gave her one last night, at about a quarter to eleven, the other they must have used in the morning.”
    “But you only joined the train yesterday evenin’,” the conductor pointed out, peering over the stationmaster’s shoulder. “ ’Ad to ’ave. It don’t start till evenin’.”
    “I know that,” Hester said patiently. “Perhaps they were short of medicine, or the maid was lazy, and this was already made up, ready to use. I don’t know. But I gave her the second one, out of this vial.” She pointed to the second one in its bed. “Last night.”
    “And how was she then, miss? Poorly?”
    “No—no she seemed very well,” Hester said honestly.
    “I see. Well, we’d best put a guard on duty ’ere to see she in’t”—he hesitated—“in’t disturbed, and you’d better come and find the poor lady’s daughter who’s come to meet her, poor soul.” The stationmaster frowned, still staring at Hester. “You sure she didn’t call out in the night? You were here, I take it—all night?”
    “Yes I was,” Hester said stiffly.
    He hesitated again, then sneezed fiercely and was obliged to blow his nose. He looked at her carefully for several minutes, regarding her straight-backed very slender figure, and making some estimate of her age, and decided she was probably telling the truth. It was not a flattering conclusion.
    “I don’t know Mr. and Mrs. Murdoch,” Hester said quietly. “You will have to make some sort of announcement in order to find them.”
    “We’ll take care of all that sort of thing. Now you just compose yourself, miss, and come and tell these poor souls that their mother has passed over.” He looked at her narrowly. “Are you going to be able to do that, miss?”
    “Yes—yes certainly I am. Thank you for your concern.”
    She followed after the stationmaster as he backed out of the entrance and led the way to the carriage door. He turned and assisted her to alight onto the platform. The outside air was sharp and cold on her face, smelling of steam and soot and the grime of thousands of dirty feet. A chill wind whistled along the platform, in spite of the roof overhead, and the noise of trollies, boot heels, banging doors and voices echoed up into the vast overhead span. She followed the stationmaster jostling through the thinning crowd as they reached the steps to his office.
    “Are they … here?” she asked, suddenly finding her throat tight.
    “Yes, miss. Weren’t ’ard to find. Young lady and gentleman looking to that train. Only ’ad to ask.”
    “Has anyone told them yet?”
    “No, miss. Thought it better to learn that from you, seein’ as you know the family, and o’ course knew the lady herself.”
    “Oh.”
    The stationmaster opened the door and stood back. Hester went straight in.
    The first person she saw was a young woman with fair auburn hair, waved like Eilish’s, but much duller in color, sandy rather than burning autumnal. Her face was oval, her features good, but lacking both the passion and the beauty of her sister. Compared with anyone else, she would have been handsome enough, in a quiet, very seemly sort of way, but having met Eilish, Hester could only see her as a shadow, a pale reflection. Perhaps in time, when her present condition had run its term and she was no longer plagued by anxieties, she could be more like Oonagh, have more vivacity and confidence in her.
    But it was the man beside her who spoke. He was three or four inches taller than she, his face bony, with hooded eyes and a habit of pursing his lips, which drew attention to his well-shaped