Page 43 of Miss Morton and the Missing Heir (A Miss Morton Mystery #4)

A t four o’clock, Caroline was in the drawing room awaiting Mrs. Frogerton, who had taken a nap after luncheon.

Dr. Harris was expected momentarily, and Caroline wondered what had become of her employer.

After a few more minutes of indecision, she went back up the stairs and knocked on Mrs. Frogerton’s bedroom door.

There was no reply. After knocking again, Caroline looked inside.

“Mrs. Frogerton?”

Something about the quality of the silence told her that Mrs. Frogerton was not present.

The door into the dressing room was open, and Caroline walked through just to make sure that her employer wasn’t simply changing her dress in anticipation of Dr. Harris’s visit.

The bonnet Mrs. Frogerton had worn earlier was on top of the chest of drawers, red ribbons dangling, along with the matching gloves.

A pair of muddy half boots sat beside the door waiting to be cleaned.

Caroline went back into the bedroom, a sense of unease enveloping her.

Mrs. Frogerton had looked forward to Dr. Harris’s visit, and yet she was nowhere to be found.

Had she gone to the kitchen to speak to Cook about the refreshments?

Caroline decided to go down the back stairs to the basement and find out.

There was no sign of Mrs. Frogerton in the kitchen, but Ellie jumped up from the table and came toward Caroline. “Mrs. Frogerton gave me a note for you before she went out.”

“Thank you.” Caroline took the folded piece of paper. “How long ago did she leave?”

“About ten minutes ago I think, miss.” Ellie looked over at the clock. “She went in her carriage all proper-like.”

“Did she take an escort?”

“No, miss. I did ask if she wanted me to accompany her, but she said she wouldn’t be five minutes and to tell you not to worry.”

“Is Mr. Scutton here?”

“He went out to see Mr. Castle, miss. He said he might not be back in time for dinner.”

“Thank you, Ellie.” Caroline managed a smile. “Please ask Mr. Jenkins to bring up the tea tray after he admits Dr. Harris to the house.”

“I will, miss.” Ellie curtsied.

Caroline went back to the drawing room to await Dr. Harris with the note in her hand. She unfolded it and read Mrs. Frogerton’s words.

Dearest Caroline, I have gone to Morton House. It occurred to me that if anyone knows whether the marriage is legal or not, it is Mrs. Scutton. I intend to check for a marriage certificate amongst her belongings. I doubt I’ll be long. Please ask Dr. Harris to await my return .

Caroline read the note again. How on earth did Mrs. Frogerton think she would gain access to Mrs. Scutton’s personal effects? She already knew her employer was handy with a hairpin, but dealing with Mrs. Scutton was a completely different matter than the friendly and inferior Miss Smith.

Jenkins announced, “Dr. Harris, Miss Morton.”

Caroline turned to the door to see Dr. Harris and the butler. “Oh … thank you.”

Dr. Harris raised his eyebrows. “There’s no need to look so pleased to see me, Miss Morton.”

“I wasn’t thinking of you,” Caroline said. “I was worrying about Mrs. Frogerton.”

“Is she not at home?” Dr. Harris looked back toward the hall. “I did tell her I’d be here this afternoon. Did she give up and go out, leaving you to deal with my supposed lateness?”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake, this isn’t about you, sir. Mrs. Frogerton had to go out unexpectedly,” Caroline said. “She instructed me to tell you to stay until she returns.”

The butler returned with the tea tray and set it on the table in front of the fireplace. Dr. Harris looked inquiringly at Caroline, who had not sat down or invited him to do so.

“Shall I pour? You seem quite distracted.”

“I’ll do it.” She took a seat, poured two cups of tea, and handed one to Dr. Harris, who joined her on the couch.

“What’s wrong?” he asked in his usual blunt manner.

“Where would you like me to start?” Caroline asked. “Of course, if you’d bothered to visit more frequently, you’d know how matters currently stand rather than expecting me to tell you everything all at once.”

“You’re upset.” He put his cup down and took her hand, his thumb and forefinger curving around to take her pulse. “How may I help you?”

She pulled her hand free of his. “Mrs. Frogerton has gone to Morton House by herself.”

“And?” Dr. Harris looked mystified. “Is she not allowed to make calls without you?”

“She—” Caroline sucked in a breath. “She can sometimes be impulsive, and I am concerned that she might put herself in danger.”

“How so?”

“We believe Mr. Scutton might have been involved in the murder of his sister.”

Dr. Harris frowned. “I thought they’d charged that Brigham chap.”

“They have, but Mrs. Frogerton and I have come to suspect that Mr. Scutton might have wanted his sister murdered to prevent her speaking out about his claims to the earldom.”

“Ah, now it makes sense.” Dr. Harris nodded. “Is that why Mrs. Frogerton wanted to speak to me?”

“I believe she wished to consult you about the evening when the murder took place.”

“What did she want to know?” Dr. Harris asked.

Caroline took a moment to gather her thoughts. “One of the maids observed the Brigham brothers leaving the house. They appeared relaxed, weren’t in a hurry to be gone, and, more importantly, there was no sign of blood on their clothing.”

Dr. Harris considered this for a moment. “I assume Mrs. Frogerton wanted to know if it was possible to stab someone violently and yet avoid getting that person’s blood on you.”

“Yes.” Caroline nodded.

“From what I observed at the time, the wounds were inflicted by a single blade, which indicates that there was only one person wielding a murder weapon. So it’s possible one of the brothers would remain blood free.

The other, however …” He paused. “The blade struck an artery in the throat, and the blood came out with some force. In my opinion, anyone standing close enough to stab Mrs. Brigham would have been sprayed with blood.”

“Which means that Mr. Albert Brigham must have changed his clothes,” Caroline said. “I doubt Mr. Scutton would’ve left a set out for him, so where did he get them?”

“He would’ve had to strip down to his smalls,” Dr. Harris said.

Caroline looked at him. “But how could he have done that when Mrs. Scutton was right there screaming her head off and raising the alarm?” She paused. “Oh, dear God. The only person covered in blood apart from Mary was Mrs. Scutton.”

Dr. Harris stared at her. “Ah … there’s something I meant to tell you about that.”

“What?” Caroline demanded.

“I’ve dealt with a lot of knife injuries during my time at St. Thomas’s, and I’ve heard many a story from those who insist they were the victim, but the direction of the knife cuts tells a different story.”

Caroline shot to her feet and began pacing. “Are you suggesting Mrs. Scutton was lying?”

“Let me put it this way. The amount of blood on her clothing was far worse than the shallow slashes on her arms and hands would have caused. And the angle of those shallow cuts doesn’t reflect her story of trying to fight off Mr. Brigham.

She was either right by Mr. Brigham’s side when he inflicted the final blows, or—”

“She did it herself, and then cut her own arms to make it look like it was the Brighams.” Caroline whispered. “Why didn’t you mention this earlier?”

“Well—”

“You let your stupid male pride about a conversation with me prevent you from coming forward with information that might prove vital to this murder!”

Dr. Harris stood up and held up his hands in a placatory manner. “Steady on, now. There’s no need—”

“There is every need!” Caroline rounded on him. “Do you not understand? Mrs. Frogerton has gone to see Mrs. Scutton. If she is caught meddling with her belongings, God knows what that woman will do to her!” She turned toward the door. “I must go to her.”

Dr. Harris came after her. “Then I will accompany you.”

Dr. Harris tried to speak to Caroline in the hackney cab, but she was far too worried to take heed of his words. When they reached Cavendish Square, she left the cab without waiting for his help, and he only caught up with her as she descended the basement steps of Morton House.

“How do you intend to get in?” he asked as she approached the door.

She bent down to move a paving stone and retrieved the key that had been there since she lived in the house.

“Clever,” Dr. Harris said approvingly. “What’s the plan?”

She finally looked at him. “We’ll go in as quietly as we can and use the back stairs to ascend each level until we find them.”

“I assume you don’t know which bedroom Mrs. Scutton has claimed for her own?” Dr. Harris asked.

“Unfortunately, no. Although, I assume she might use the countess’s suite on the third floor until Mr. Scutton takes a bride.”

“I thought he intended to marry you.”

“I believe he had some notion of doing so. I set him straight about that.” They entered the house quietly and came down the dark passageway, past the scullery and washhouse and into the kitchen proper.

“I’ll wager Scutton took that well.” Dr. Harris kept his voice low as they approached the servants’ stairs.

There was no sign of anyone in the basement, although Caroline noticed the new stove had been installed and some rudimentary furniture put in place.

The stove had been banked up and sent out warm waves of air into the coldness of the kitchen.

A tray with two used cups, a pot of tea, and some sugar sat on the pine table waiting to be cleared away by the nonexistent staff.

“Are there any servants yet?” Dr. Harris asked as if he’d read her mind.

“Not that I know of,” Caroline said. “Let’s go up to the ground floor.”

One of the advantages of the house being so empty was that sound carried well. There were no voices raised or otherwise in the morning room, secretary’s office, or other rooms.