Page 49 of A Whisper in the Shadows

Furnier’s gaze was cool. “You’ve already heard that Eaton was recruiting members who were ill and telling them they could collect benefits after six months, which was against our established policy. We require a year of membership before one may collect benefits. Eaton added their names to the membership roll and gave me the entrance fees every Sunday, which I added to the lockbox on Mondays before our weekly meeting.”

“Did you ever find a discrepancy in the amount Eaton gave you?”

“No,” Furnier replied firmly. “All the required funds were accounted for.”

Thetford’s gaze was fixed intently on Furnier. “Did Mrs. Cardy ask for her husband’s fees to be refunded?”

“I’m not aware of her doing so.”

“Thank you, Mr. Furnier. One last question. Who, in your opinion, would want to kill Mr. Phelps?”

“Someone with no moral compass,” Furnier said with disgust.

The coroner turned his attention to the next witness in the row of chairs. “Dr. Giles, you are the society’s physician. What is your exact role?”

The doctor’s gaze fixed on the coroner as he responded. “I assess the health of potential members in order to determine if they are eligible for benefits. I will also ensure members are deceased before benefits are distributed.”

“What method do you use to establish someone’s eligibility?”

Shifting in the chair, Dr. Giles looked away from Thetford. “I interview them regarding their age, state of health, and the existence of illness within their family.”

Tilda sensed the doctor was uneasy with this question.

Thetford regarded him expectantly. “Do you conduct examinations to ensure they are providing accurate information about their health?”

The doctor still did not meet the coroner’s gaze. “Not always.”

His response seemed to carry an edge of regret, which Tilda could understand. The process Dr. Giles used to ascertain a member’s eligibility seemed rather inadequate.

“How did you come to work for the society?” Thetford held up a hand. “Forgive me, I’m not sure if you are a paid employee. Are you?”

Dr. Giles flattened his spine to the back of the chair and pushed his shoulders back as he returned his focus to Thetford. “I will be paid when it comes time to review claims for benefits.”

“You are not currently compensated for assessing potential members?” Thetford asked.

“No.”

“Let us return to my question. How did you come to work for the society?”

The doctor smoothed his hands over his thighs. “Phelps had placed an advertisement in the newspaper. I called on him to discuss the position, and he hired me.”

“Since you are not currently paid for your work with the society, are you employed elsewhere?”

A slight frown marred Dr. Giles’s classically handsome features. “I work with another physician on Gresham Street.”

Thetford cocked his head. “I’m curious why you would accept a position with the society in addition to your other employment. What was your reasoning?”

“I live in Coleman Street Ward, and I was eager to be involved in a friendly society dedicated to the ward’s benefit.” The doctor’s voice sounded tight, and Tilda wasn’t certain he was being entirely honest. Perhaps he was nervous.

“What was your relationship with Timothy Eaton?” Thetford asked, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Were you aware he was admitting members who did not meet the health requirements?”

“I barely knew him, and no, I was not aware.”

Thetford blinked. “You said that you interview potential members about their age, health, and illness within their family. Did you not assess every member? Let me be specific. Did you assess Mr. Cardy’s health prior to his membership?”

Dr. Giles’s face flushed. “I did not.”

“Then why was Mr. Cardy allowed to become a member?” The coroner watched Giles intently, but he also cast glances toward Mrs. Cardy, as well as Furnier and Nevill.