Page 114 of Disturbing the Dead
I walk out of the kitchen without another word. I won’t say I’ve won this battle, but I have a feeling I don’t need to worry about Mrs. Wallace holding me at gunpoint again. At least, not for a while.
We have another guest for dinner. Annis, who shows up, sees me up and moving about, and says, “You are alive then? Good. You are making a terrible habit of that.”
“Being alive?” I say as we enter the dining room.
“Being strangled and left for dead. What is it about that pretty throat that makes people think they would like to throttle it?” She lowers into her seat. “Or perhaps it is not the throat but the owner of it.”
“Annis…” Isla warns.
“That was no insult,” Annis says. “I am certain many people have wished to do the same to me.”
As we settle in, the door opens and Lorna enters.
“Ah,” Annis says. “The new maid has not fled. Having second thoughts yet, child?”
Lorna freezes and looks about, as if Annis must be addressing someone else.
“Is there another maid here?” Annis says. “Of course I mean you.”
“I… I am doing well, ma’am. Everyone is very kind to me.”
Annis snorts. “Of course they are. They are all too kind by half.” She lifts her wineglass. “Fill this and then be off with you. The adults have a murder to discuss.”
After dinner, Annis leaves and the solicitor arrives to take my statement. Then it’s a short evening before we’re all off to bed. I don’t have a restful night. Once dark comes, it drags all my fears and anxieties with it. Have I made the right choice? What if I really do never see my parents again? Was this worth giving up my former life for?
I think it was, and if I have doubts, then I need to make sure it’s worth it. Immerse myself in this world and helping those around me.
First thing the next morning, Gray and I are off to the university. McCreadie is busy with the search for Selim Awad. Isla has chemist orders to fill—she has arrangements with male chemists, where they pay her for medicine they pass off as their own. I’m sure Isla could spare the time to join us, but obviously “poking around a professor’s office” doesn’t strike her as exciting detective work. She’s holding out for a real adventure.
Can’t say I blame her. Universities aren’t the most exciting place in the world. Now, I do have good memories of my years at one. I love learning, and university was far better at scratching that itch than high school had been. Yet for some people, just breathing the rarefied air of a university is exhilarating. For me, a university is like a law office. It’s where one of my parents works, which takes all the mystique out of it. For Isla, university is also a place she was prevented from entering as a student.
Gray occupies a weird place within the academic structure. He’s a graduate. A lauded one, too. Second in his class with dual degrees. He’s also a published researcher in a new and exciting field. That should win him invitations to speak, even to join the faculty. But he’s Duncan Gray, the doctor who was refused a license to practice his craft. I don’t think the university knows what to make of him, so while he’s permitted to attend lectures, no one’s asking him to give them.
He is recognized on campus, though. Staff tip their hats to him. One professor smiles as we pass, another pauses for a quick exchange of pleasantries, while a third pretends not to see him and a fourth actively glares.
When we reach Sir Alastair’s office, there’s a constable standing guard. I’ve seen the man before, and like Iain, he doesn’t have a problem with Gray, which is probably why he’s been assigned to this morning’s shift. Gray greets him as I slip inside.
The room is dark and windowless. A small office, for a medical professor who is best known in a field other than medicine. The air is stale and chilly, the fire having been out for days. I flick on the gaslight, which doesn’t do much to illuminate a room of dark wood. I can make out the desk—also dark wood—and it seems to have a lamp on it. I head that way, and I’m leaning over to light it when I catch sight of something on the desktop.
I light the desk lamp and then use a pencil to push the object toward it for closer examination.
“Found something already?” Gray says as he enters.
I point at the object. “It’s the key from the King residence. Simon wouldn’t have left it here. I’m guessing he returned it to one of the constables, who forgot to take it back to the police office.”
“That key is still at our house. Hugh told us to keep it in case we had another idea where it might fit.”
I tilt my head as I frown at the key. “Am I imagining that this looks like the same one?”
“No, it most certainly does.”
So Florence King’s key seems to be one for a university office. What was she doing with it, and whose office did it open?
Gray takes a handkerchief from his pocket, scoops it up, and leaves the room, locking the door behind him. A moment later, Gray opens the door, key still in hand.
The constable on duty calls over, “Oh, that’s the key to this office. The secretary brought it around in case we needed it. Sir Alastair’s went missing a while ago.”
Gray looks at me.
