Page 41 of Disturbing the Dead
“With those women. He was hell-bent on stopping them.”
“Miss King is one of the Seven,” I murmur. Then I turn to Muir. “Is that what you mean? The seven women who are studying to become doctors.”
“Studying medicine. They will not become doctors.”
“All right,” I say. “The seven women permitted to study medicine. You’re saying Sir Alastair tried to stop them?”
“He lobbied for the university court to reject Miss Jex-Blake’s application,” says a voice behind Lord Muir. Isla appears, wearing a receiving wrapper, having apparently been warned we have a visitor. “Last night, when we met Miss King, I recalled some connection between the Seven and Sir Alastair. It took a while to remember specifics. He was one of those responsible for the university court rejecting Miss Jex-Blake. Now that she has gathered the other six and been admitted, he continues to lobby for them to be removed or be placed under further restrictions.”
She meets Lord Muir’s gaze. “Because apparently it is not enough to refuse them access to lectures and force Miss Jex-Blake to teach them herself. We cannot have women studying with the men. How will they concentrate with all those…” She flaps her hand. “Feminine body parts in the room.”
Lord Muir chokes. “It is a distraction.”
“That is odd,” she continues. “I certainly am not above noticing handsome men, but I have never found myself so distracted by them that I cannot focus on my studies. And if I did, then the problem would be mine to overcome. I would have expected better of young men bright enough to be admitted to medical school.”
I expect Muir to bluster, but he backs down with a nod. “You make a fair point, ma’am. Please forgive me. I am upset over my friend’s murder.”
“Understandable,” Isla says. “I presume you are suggesting that Miss King murdered Sir Alastair to remove a vocal opponent to her studies. That seems rather extreme, but as she was on the property and has an issue with the deceased—” She stops short, gaze cutting to McCreadie as if realizing she’s treading on his turf.
“Miss King will be investigated,” McCreadie says.
“Immediately,” Muir says.
I bristle, and I wait for McCreadie to push back. When he doesn’t, I see my mistake. I can say that it’s the fault of this world and how they treat the nobility, but if I were working a case back home, I’d be expected to give the same deference to any powerful person. They have loud voices and deep pockets, and we might say the law treats everyone the same, but it doesn’t.
“I will speak to Miss King myself,” McCreadie says. “Dr. Gray will stay to obtain Dr. Addington’s report once the autopsy is complete.”
“You will speak to her?” Muir says. “Or arrest her?”
“Speak to her and then convey my findings to those who can make any arrest decision.” To his superiors and the procurator fiscal. McCreadie doesn’t say that. He’s not giving Muir a list of targets to harass.
“Acceptable,” Muir says. “I will expect a full report this afternoon.”
McCreadie’s jaw twitches at that, as if chewing over words he’d like to say, but he only murmurs, “I will convey your request to the appropriate parties. Good day, Lord Muir.”
Here is where the line between my new life and my old one blurs. Technically, I am Gray’s employee, first as his housemaid and now as his assistant. But if McCreadie needs my help with a case, that takes precedence, which I appreciate. Oh, there are times when duty requires me to help McCreadie when something more interesting is happening with Gray, but even if I’m no longer a public servant, I still feel the obligation of that old life.
Today, McCreadie wants me to accompany him to speak to Miss King. There are many situations where being a handsome police officer helps when the interviewee is a woman. But our guts tell us that Miss King will not be susceptible to McCreadie’s easy charm.
There are also many situations where being in the body of a young woman helps me with female interview subjects. I put them at ease, looking as little as possible like an officer of the law. Again, I don’t think Miss King is going to respond to that.
What she might respond to is an odd and outspoken doctor’s female assistant. Isla would be even better equipped to impress Miss King, but I’m the one with the interview experience. So Gray promises he will not examine Sir Alastair post-autopsy until I return, and I’m off with McCreadie.
Isla does help us here, with her more complete knowledge of the Seven. She tells us that they have a home base, so to speak, and where to find it. She’s been there herself, offering support and baked goods. Despite what Miss King implied, Isla has been supportive in all the ways she can be, and I know it frustrates her to put her own career concerns above the cause of women’s education, but I think she’s struck the right balance.
I suggest she join us, but she doesn’t think it will help enough. Her time is better spent analyzing the dirt and other samples retrieved from the scene. McCreadie agrees, and we take our leave.
The Seven’s base is a unit on Buccleuch Place where their leader—Sophia Jex-Blake—has taken up residence, along with another of their group. According to Isla, the women use it as a study hall of sorts. That’s where McCreadie and I head, with a cab dropping us off nearby.
“Nice party until the murder,” I say as we walk.
McCreadie laughs. “That does tend to put a damper on the festivities.”
“Was Isla enjoying it? I know she was upset after our run-in with Miss King.”
“She came out of it soon enough.” He smiles fondly. “Isla cannot resist a good party.”
I look over at him, surprised. I’m about to say I haven’t known her to attend any. Then I realize why that might be.
