A Murder in Time(132)

He gave her a look of annoyance. “I am not used to having my word challenged in this way.” He paused, then sighed. “Dr. West is on staff at Bethlem Royal Hospital. When I discovered he was not in residence, I continued my inquiries at St. John’s Hospital, and then St. Luke’s.”

“And they didn’t have any doctors who could help you?” Kendra wondered.

He shrugged. “When I was at St. Luke’s, I realized that I had been hasty in my journey to London. I did not wish to further upset my mother by inflicting upon her a strange doctor. Again, I do not expect you to understand the emotional duress which motivated my desire to go to Town.”

It would be easy enough to send someone to London to follow up. After all, how often could the gentry go searching for a mad-doctor? Then again, it could happen every damn day, for all Kendra knew.

“Are you certain your maid was murdered by the fiend who killed the other women?” Morland asked, shifting his attention to Aldridge.

“We can’t go into details,” Kendra interrupted.

He glanced back at her. “Why ever not?”

“It’s an ongoing investigation.”

He looked incredulous. “You will not tell me if the madman is now targeting servant girls? Pray tell, should I be concerned for the safety of my own household?”

“Tell all the women on your staff not to go anywhere alone. They shouldn’t trust any man. No matter who he is.”

Morland glared at her. He stood up. “I shall relay your message to my staff, but I will emphasize yet again that I am an innocent man.”

Kendra met his eye. “I’ve never met a guilty man who doesn’t say the exact same thing.”





54

By the time Kendra and the Duke returned to the study, Dr. Munroe and Sam had appeared, having apparently completed the postmortem. Munroe eyed Kendra with concern over the cup of tea he’d poured for himself. “Are you quite certain you wish to hear this, Miss Donovan?”

No, she didn’t want to hear it. But she had to. “Yes. Give us your report, Doctor.”

Dr. Munroe shot a glance at Rebecca. “And you, your Ladyship? I am aware of your progressive nature, but what I have to report is not pleasant.”

“Thank you for considering my tender sensibilities, sir. However I am made of sterner stuff.”

“Very well, madam.” He drew in a breath, like a diver before plunging deep beneath the ocean waves. “The maid was strangled like your first victim. Likewise, the perpetrator used four different knives, primarily in the rectus abdominis.”

Kendra tried to block out a mental image of Rose as he talked.

“The number of lacerations, however, are different from Lydia Benoit.”

Surprised, Kendra asked, “More or less?”

“More. I counted sixty-five.”

Aldridge glanced at Kendra, frowning. “What does that mean?”

“I’m not sure,” she admitted slowly. “It could mean that the number of incisions are not significant.”

“Or the perpetrator is becoming more unstable,” said Munroe.

Aldridge looked at him. “Why do you say that, Doctor?”

“You must understand that since I did not conduct the first postmortem, I only have Miss Donovan’s notes as a guide. Still, I’ve found those notes to be remarkably detailed, and have no cause to doubt their veracity.” He offered Kendra a slight smile. “You wrote that the incisions were slashes or deliberate cuts. Half of the lacerations on this victim followed a similar pattern. Varying degrees of length and depth, but still deliberate incisions. However, more than a dozen were consistent with stabbing rather than slashing. The wounds were deeper, longer, wider, and more jagged.”

Kendra remembered her sense that something was off when she’d looked at the wounds. Subconsciously, she’d recognized the difference. “Which were made first, Doctor?”

He shook his head. “I have no way of determining that, Miss Donovan. If I were to surmise . . . I believe the more deliberate incisions came first, followed by the stabbing.”

“I see. That’s why you think the unsub is becoming more unstable.”

“Yes. Comparing the two types of wounds, there appears to be more of a frenzy to the stabbing lacerations. I cannot determine whether those wounds were inflicted postmortem or before.”

Kendra raised her brows. “Why do you think those wounds would be postmortem?”

“Because, Miss Donovan, I believe the girl died before the perpetrator could do his work.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She died from trauma to the brain.”

There was a moment of stunned silence.

Alec broke it. “She didn’t die from strangulation like the first victim?”

“She was strangled repeatedly like the first victim. She was also sexually assaulted. The rest you know from your own visual examination—the bite mark to the left breast and abrasions on her wrists indicating she was restrained.” He stood up, clasping his hands behind his back as he addressed the room. “However, this victim received a head injury. Possibly from a rock, or a cudgel of some kind, although I found no wood slivers or particles in the wound.

“The blow fractured the girl’s skull, causing epidural hemorrhaging,” continued Munroe. “The blood clotted, putting immense pressure on her brain. She would have lived for several hours after the blow, but the head injury is the cause of death.”