Page 11 of Grace in Glasgow (Seduced in Scotland #3)

James waited for him to enter and closed the door behind him. Walking around the room, he sat at his desk as Murphy studied the brim of his hat. Curious that, as the constable was always more chatty than despondent.

Ever since joining the force as a police surgeon, James and the constable would meet twice a week to discuss certain cases.

There were a handful of other doctors who worked for the police, albeit part time, to keep their practices running, just as James was doing, but he was often the first to be called on when a murder had taken place, as the police were now attempting not to move evidence before notes were taken at the crime scene.

At present, the most pressing issue was the disappearance of several persons.

It was happening all over the city, but more concentratedly in impoverished areas and unfortunately, the police seemed to believe that these missing people were out getting drunk or runaways, despite their families saying otherwise.

But so was the attitude toward the disadvantaged these days.

There was an unspoken belief that the poor were somehow morally bankrupt and more likely to become drunks or recluses who abandoned their families, but James had met more people across the classes than anyone he knew and he could state beyond a reasonable doubt that status had little to do with morality.

“So?” James said after a moment. “How goes the Chatterley case?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, we were able to garner a confession out of the sister-in-law. Evidently, the husband had taken to bedding not only his wife and his wife’s sister, but another mistress.

It seems the sister-in-law didn’t wish to share him anymore, but when he told her that he intended to go on just as he had, she killed him. ”

James nodded, having investigated the scene himself.

It had been rather gruesome, as the man had been stabbed several times, but it was important to note that multiple stab wounds usually indicated some sort of rage behind the incident.

James had marked several similar cases, all people murdered by a close family member or friend.

“Case closed then.”

The constable glanced back at the closed door. James was sure that he was wondering about Grace.

“I assure you, Chief Constable, that whatever you’re worried about, you needn’t be. Miss Sharpe will not be attending me on police matters. I plan to keep her plenty busy in this office.” James added quickly, “By having her tend to my patients, you see.”

The constable tilted his head.

“I’m glad to hear it, because we have a new case and…” He hesitated, visibly disturbed, which was a rarity for someone like the constable, who had seen his fair share of evil happenings within the city for at least ten years. “It’s a grisly situation.”

“What’s happened?”

“Do you remember the Flannery case? Over on Leafy Hyndland?”

James remembered, having only worked on it eight months prior. Mr. Flannery had been a well-to-do merchant who lived with his wife and two sons in a rather distinguished residence in Glasgow’s west end.

“Yes. Mr. Flannery was found frozen to death on his front doorstep after a particularly vicious snowstorm.” James shook his head. “I believe the investigation was led by Dr. Stewart, was it not?”

“Aye, it was.”

“I read his report. Supposedly, Mr. Flannery had been drinking, quite extensively, and walked home that evening from his club. He had barely made it home when he must have fallen asleep and eventually died.”

“That was the extent of it.”

James shook his head.

“I’m sorry, but what does a closed case have to do with us this morning?”

“Well, there have been rumors circulating, rumors about Mr. Flannery’s offspring.

Apparently, the old man had threatened to cut off his ne’er-do-well sons for racking up bills and debts all over Scotland.

” The constable leaned closer. “I’ll tell ya, it doesn’t do well to spoil children.

But supposedly, the sons had the idea to inherit their father’s fortune before they were removed from the will, so they poisoned him. ”

James frowned.

“Poison? But there wasn’t any evidence for that. And word of mouth is circumstantial.”

“Therein lies the gruesome part. A gentleman friend of the deceased heard of the rumors and came to the station to suggest a, well, something ungodly, really.”

“What?”

“He suggested that we exhume the body, so that one of you lot might do some tests, or something.” The constable shook his head. “I shouldn’t have even entertained the idea, but being who he is and all, I felt rather conflicted, you see.”

A hard stone seemed to settle in James’s throat. He knew who the constable was talking about without even asking.

“I presume you mean Sir Douglas Ward has requested the inquisition.”

The constable bobbed his head.

“Aye.”

“Perhaps Dr. Stewart would want to take the lead on this then? It was his case after all.”

“Begging your pardon, but Sir Ward has requested you to lead it.”

James let out a long breath as he folded his arms across his chest and he leaned back in his chair.

It was a strange case to be sure, but what was more pressing to James was the fact that his almost father-in-law wanted him involved.

They hadn’t spoken in over a year, not since Catriona ran away with some peer from England.

The pain and embarrassment of that day still haunted James, who had vowed never to allow himself to care for any other person like he had his former fiancée. The humiliation of that moment, when he realized that she wasn’t coming, had sliced at him daily ever since.

“Why does he want me?”

“He said you were the best and the brightest and that if a murder, particularly a poisoning, had taken place, that you would be the one to solve it.”

James refused to feel even slightly pleased that his former mentor had lavished such praise.

More than likely, he was just trying to get James to come on to the job.

Of course, a case like this, if led properly, could help lead the way for autopsies being more accepted.

Many a crime had gone unpunished because of the lack of understanding about how the human body worked and if he could prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the old merchant had been poisoned, then he would help set a precedent for the medical community.

Besides, Sir Ward wasn’t likely to show up. Catriona’s running away had caused a certain amount of shame for the Wards, and James’s former mentor wasn’t the sort of man who enjoyed uncomfortable social situations.

“I’m surprised that this matter has been brought to the police,” James said. “Aren’t there fines and imprisonment punishments for body snatchers?”

“This is different. It’s a matter of justice. We’re not removing the body to be sold and carved up by a group of medical students.” He paused. “No offense, of course.”

The sentiment was the popular opinion among people who didn’t understand why working on real bodies was important to science. James successfully kept his expression blank.

“Very well, Chief Constable, I’ll do it.”

The constable’s face was grim, but grateful.

“Thank you, Dr. Hall. I believe the body will be delivered to Sir Ward’s theater at Andersen University this afternoon.”

“I know it well, yes.”

The constable turned as James stood to follow him out. Opening the door that led into the rest of the store, both men found Grace and Virgil suspiciously close to the office door. James glared at them as the constable replaced his hat to his head.

“Thank you, Dr. Hall,” he said upon reaching the front door, before bowing his head to Grace. “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Sharpe.”

“It was an honor, Chief Constable,” she said.

“Er, begging your pardon, sir,” Virgil said, stepping forward. “But have you heard of the missing peoples, down near Gallowgate?”

The older man shook his head.

“Not anything out of the ordinary. People disappear sometimes and it can be difficult to track them, particularly when they don’t wish to be found. Good day.”

And with that, the police officer was gone. James turned around to reenter his office, but stalled when Grace spoke.

“That’s not terribly helpful, is it?”

“Aye, but it’s true,” Virgil replied. “Many a person has gone missing because they don’t wish to be found. Be it because of the drink, or bill collectors, or because of other, more nefarious reasons.”

“Such as?”

“Well—”

“Virgil, I’m sure there’s a number of things that need your attention at the moment, more so than the scandalizing of Miss Sharpe. For instance, I’ve nearly run out of lime oil.”

“Have you? That went quick. Well, I’ll whip you up a new batch this afternoon, I will.”

Virgil bobbed his head and hobbled back behind one of the glass display cases, while Grace approached James.

“I’m not in danger of being scandalized, Dr. Hall. In fact, I’m more than aware of the realities of life and have not fainted once because of them.”

Her knowing smirk both irritated and intrigued James, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing it.

Instead, he ignored her and returned to his office.

Of course, she was close on his heels and when he sat down to start reviewing his first patient’s last documented visit, he realized that she was standing in front of his desk, as if waiting for something.

Tilting his head up, he squinted at her.

“Can I help you?”

“When are we going to examine the body?”

“What body?”

“The exhumed one.”

“Ha,” he barked and returned his attention to his papers. When she didn’t move, however, he glanced back up to see that same, knowing hint of a smile on her face. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m very serious.”

He closed the folder on his desk.

“ We are not doing anything. You’ll not be attending me on that venture.”

To his satisfaction and also his disappointment, her smile disappeared.

“Why not?”

“Because that is a case that does not require your presence.”

“But I would be a great help. I’ve studied the human body excessively this past year as well as the reactions poisons can induce not only in the tissue, but hair and nail folic—”

“Miss Sharpe,” he interrupted, standing up from the wooden chair and placing his fists on the desk before him in an effort to appear both irritated and imposing. “I would not take you to examine a dead man for a million pounds.”

“But why not?”

“Because, it is neither the place, nor the circumstance to which I’ve agreed to let you shadow me. Your field of study will remain firmly with the living and how to treat them.”

“But I can help—”

“And I will not be so cavalier as to have you involved with an active crime investigation. You may have bullied your way into studying medicine, but I refuse to allow you anywhere near the dangerous world of crime that runs rampant in this city. Not only would your aunt have issue with it, but Dr. Barkley would refuse it as well. The danger is too great.”

“What danger?” Grace pressed, coming around the desk, seemingly oblivious to the fact that she was crowding him.

For the daughter of an earl, she did not behave like one.

Or perhaps, by insisting on having her way, she was acting exactly like the offspring of a peer.

“I see nothing precarious about examining a body.”

“If the man was poisoned and it’s confirmed, don’t you think that the ones who did so might be angry by the discovery?”

“A fact they should have considered beforehand, if they did poison him.”

James let out an exasperated breath.

“Criminals rarely consider the consequences of their actions, do they?”

“I wouldn’t know, Dr. Hall. I’ve never met a criminal.”

“And you never shall, as long as I’m in charge.”

“In charge?” she repeated, sounding surprised. “You didn’t want me to shadow you in the first place.”

“No, but now that you are, you will abide by my rules, or I will terminate your shadowing.”

“But… That’s not fair!”

Frustration and indignation flashed in her eyes as she gazed at him and James struggled with remembering what exactly he was talking about, because the crease in her brow, mixed with the challenge in her amber eyes made him feel out of sorts suddenly.

Clearing his throat, he was about to tell her exactly what was unfair when the bell over the front door rang out once more.

Glancing over her shoulder, he saw his first patient. He reached for the folder on his desk, handed it to Grace, careful not to touch her as he did, and stepped around her, although he paused. Unable to help himself, he leaned toward her and spoke softly, just above her ear.

“Get ready for a fight, Miss Sharpe. Mr. Williams hates doctors. And women.”

He inhaled deeply then before walking away and regretted it instantly. She smelled like sunshine and, oddly enough, carline thistle, the same that grew all around his boyhood home in Glencoe.

For a moment, he was transported back to the Highlands, far away from the pungent city scents and wet brick buildings that surrounded him.

Shaking his head, he leaned out the office doorway.

“Mr. Williams? Right this way.”