Page 5 of Disturbing the Dead
He turns to Annis. “Lorna has no such story. In light of our recent troubles with hiring a maid, we decided to make a more traditional choice.”
“You hired an ordinary girl?”
“Yes.”
“Then no. She will not do.” Annis looks at Lorna. “I shall find you employment in my own house and compensate you for the inconvenience. There. The matter is settled.”
“You are not stealing our maid, Annis,” Isla says.
“I am not stealing her. I am replacing her with someone suitable to your needs, whom I shall choose. This one will not do. She does not suit.” Annis waves at Lorna. “Do not bother to unpack your bag, child. You are not staying.”
“I will show you to your room, Lorna,” Isla says. “Because you are staying, and the first lesson you shall need to learn is this: my sister does not live here, and therefore you need do nothing”—she glares at Annis—“nothing she asks of you.”
“Oh, I do not ask, dear Isla. I tell.”
“Not in this house you don’t. I have no idea why you have graced us with your presence, Annis—”
“To invite you to a mummy unwrapping.”
Isla stops. She stares. I wait for her to ask what the devil her sister is talking about. Instead, she says, “Sir Alastair’s party?”
A look of satisfaction settles over Annis’s face. “If there is another, I have not heard of it. That is the only one that matters. The scientific event of the season. I came to invite you, Duncan, your policeman friend, and Mallory. I presume you will wish to go?”
“I—Yes,” Isla says. “I very much wish—I mean, I will consider it, of course, if it fits into my calendar.”
“I am quite certain you can make room in your calendar. As for this girl—”
“The girl stays,” Isla says. “Lorna, come and I will show you to your quarters. Then I will give you a tour of the house.”
“I can do that,” I say.
“Duncan has need of you,” Isla says.
“I am certain he does,” Annis murmurs, too low for anyone else to hear. I refrain from attempting to murder her with a glare.
“Quite so,” Gray says. “I have brought you something, Mallory.” His lips twitch in a faint smile. “A gift that is not fit for present company. Come down to the funerary parlor, and I shall show it to you in private.”
Annis starts to say something, but at a look from me, she settles for a very unladylike snicker. I politely take my leave of Isla and Lorna and follow Gray down the hall to the funerary parlor.
TWO
A funeral parlor in the nineteenth century bears little resemblance to what we’d find in the modern era. While Gray is called an undertaker, his job better fits the modern title of funeral director.
This isn’t a place to hold a funeral or a visitation. The only bodies that ever find their way to the Gray funerary parlor are those undergoing autopsy in Gray’s laboratory. He has degrees in both surgery and medicine but has never practiced. Part of that is because his father died, and despite being the youngest child—and, technically, illegitimate—he inherited the business. Also, he’s not allowed to practice due to a small matter of grave robbing. In his defense, he was only trying to prove that a man died of murder when no one would listen to him. But still, the offense was enough to mean he can’t practice either medicine or surgery.
So he’s an undertaker, and in that capacity, he doesn’t interact with actual corpses. His job is directing the funeral arrangements. The “funerary parlor”—situated on the ground floor of his family’s town house—is for making those arrangements. There’s a very comfortable reception room for meeting the grieving families and discussing details. Then there’s Gray’s office and then, finally, the room no mourner will ever enter: the laboratory.
Gray is not a coroner. He can’t be, because, again, he’s not allowed to practice medicine. In Victorian Edinburgh, one elected official plays the role of coroner for all suspicious deaths and homicide. That’s the police surgeon, a role currently held by an incompetent ass named Dr. Addington.
Being a privileged brat who got the job through family connections, Addington does not actually want to deal with the dead. Ew, gross. Also, he doesn’t want to conduct autopsies in the police dead rooms. Again, gross. Gray magnanimously allows Addington to work in his own laboratory, and Addington magnanimously allows Gray to examine the bodies once he’s done.
Gray’s true passion is forensics. He’s a pioneer in the field. This arrangement with Addington works out well for everyone, particularly the people of Edinburgh, who get a qualified medical professional following up on—and correcting—their police surgeon’s work.
“Did you say you got me a present?” I say as we step into the funerary parlor.
He closes the hall door behind us. “I did.”
“Hiring a new maid is a present.”
