Page 15 of A Whisper in the Shadows
“In fact, we endeavored to have Mr. Eaton call on men whom members endorsed,” Nevill explained. “He would conduct the interview and collect the entrance fee.”
“What about having Dr. Giles assess their health?” Maxwell asked.
Phelps flashed a smile, but it did not reach his dark eyes. Indeed, his gaze held a glint of annoyance. “You must excuse us, Mr. Harwood. We need to clean up and be on our way.”
“Of course.” Maxwell inclined his head and turned from the table.
Hadrian bade the administrators good evening and accompanied Maxwell from the room. They found Tilda, who’d already excused herself from the other ladies, then left the pub together. They did not speak until they’d reached White Alley.
“How was the initiation?” Tilda asked.
“Ridiculous,” Hadrian replied. “Phelps wore a hat to make him look like a cock and then made the sound of one.”
“We heard that,” Tilda said with a chuckle. “The other ladies almost universally rolled their eyes.”
“Would you like to learn the handshake?” Hadrian asked.
She met his gaze with avid interest, and it was clear to Hadrian that she wanted to know if he’d seen anything. However, he couldn’t reveal that in front of Maxwell. “There was a handshake?” she asked.
“We’re not supposed to share any of that,” Maxwell said with faint disapproval. “It’s a secret for members only.”
Hadrian scoffed. “You’re not really buying into all that, are you?”
Maxwell allowed a smile, and it occurred to Hadrian that, without his facial hair, the man was rather attractive. He also looked young, which made Hadrian think of Furnier’s comment that, at thirty, Hadrian wasn’t young. He felt an irrational prick of irritation. Was that provoked by the inspector’s youth?
“I found the ceremony ridiculous as well,” Maxwell said. “And it doesn’t seem as though it’s necessary. What I mean is, I don’t think every member is formally initiated.”
“I agree.” Hadrian nodded as he looked to Tilda. “There were a few members who were recruited since the last meeting but who weren’t present tonight. I found that odd after Furnier made a point of telling me I should attend a certain number of meetings. But then Nevill seemed to disagree, so perhaps that isn’t a policy.”
“Though I’ve just met Furnier, I had the impression he’s a stickler,” Maxwell said.
“Definitely,” Hadrian agreed. “I also found it odd that they required Maxwell and me to be proposed by existing members and yet employed a canvasser to recruit people who may not have been proposed.”
“That was why I asked the question,” Maxwell said. “Though they did say they tried to have the canvasser call on houses recommended by other members. Still, I don’t know how they ensured that was the case. Did you note how they didn’t respond to my query about the doctor’s approval of those members?”
“I did.”
“It seems as though it may have been easy for a member to hide an illness,” Tilda said.
“Such as Mr. Cardy?” Hadrian wasn’t sure what Tilda was implying, if anything. “You think the Cardys perpetrated the fraud instead of the society?”
Tilda shrugged. “I think it’s possible Cardy lied about his illness in order to obtain benefits, and Mrs. Cardy could have lied to the society about being told there was a six-month eligibility policy in an effort to collect the money early. I’m not saying I believe that’s what happened, just that we must think of this from all perspectives.”
“You are correct,” Maxwell said with a hint of admiration. His gaze met Tilda’s, and she smiled at him.
Hadrian noted the connection between them and had to ignore another pang of frustration. He forced himself to think of the investigation. “I could easily have lied to Dr. Giles about my health. He did not conduct a physical examination. Is that odd for a friendly society?”
“I’m not certain.” Maxwell frowned. “I believe it varies. I wanted to ask more questions, specifically how they collect the weekly dues from people who aren’t in attendance.”
“I have the answer to that.” Hadrian shared what Furnier and Nevill had told him. “When I mentioned I may not be able to attend every week, they said I would need to find a way to make my payments, as that is when they collect. I’m allowed to send it with someone, such as my brother-in-law here.” He inclined his head toward Maxwell. “That means I must trust him not to steal it.” He added the last with a smile, but he realized he harbored an irritation toward the inspector. Not dislike, exactly, but something about the man grated on Hadrian’s nerves.
“And I have an answer about whether it’s odd not to conduct a physical examination,” Tilda said. “There was some discussion about Gilbert Cardy’s death and the fact that he was ill when he was admitted. Everyone finds that strange—according to Mrs. Burley. She is clearly the society’s gossipmonger.”
“What else did Mrs. Burley say?” Maxwell asked with interest.
“That last week’s meeting was lively, as several people voiced concerns about ill members being admitted. There is also a question as to why the Cardys may have misunderstood the eligibility period.” Tilda looked from Maxwell to Hadrian. “Apparently, Mr. Phelps assured everyone that the administrators would deal with the issues. Did they address anything during your meeting?”
“No, they did not.” They reached Number Five, and Maxwell unlocked the door. He held it open for Tilda and Hadrian to precede him inside.