Hushed in Death Read online

  “I see,” Lamb said. “And whom have you contacted, if I might ask?”

  “Some of the men I served with in France, for one. And both my parents are dead, Chief Inspector. And with Janet’s—Mrs. Lockhart’s—help, I have become reacquainted with them in a way, which, ironically enough, has aided me in allowing myself to let them go. She has done the same for herself as regards her late husband.”

  “Does Dr. Hornby know of this assistance that Mrs. Lockhart is rendering to you?” Lamb asked.

  “Yes, and he approves. He believes in it, in fact. Hornby is not like the old-style psychiatrists, Chief Inspector. He is trying something new here and from what I can see he is succeeding. I certainly feel as if my time here has helped me to learn how to better face my past and some of my demons.”

  Travers glanced out the window, then back at Lamb. “I don’t normally believe in that sort of thing, Chief Inspector; speaking to the dead and the rest of it. But I reasoned I had nothing to lose in trying it.” He turned back to Lamb and smiled. “I suppose I was desperate enough at the time that I was willing to have tried anything. And yet, as strange as it all sounds, it has worked.”

  Travers again proffered his cigarettes to Lamb. “Are you sure you won’t have one? As I said, we seem to have an endless supply of the things here.” He looked at the ashtray, which was full of stubs. “Makes one rather profligate, I’m afraid. In France I smoked the bloody things down to the essence, until there was nothing left.”

  “No thank you, Lieutenant,” Lamb said. He put his hands on the table and stood. Travers also stood.

  “I take it we are finished, then, Chief Inspector?” he asked.

  “For the moment, yes, though I might have further questions as the inquiry progresses.”

  “Well, I’m not going anywhere for the time being.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Lamb said.

  “Whatever I can do to help.”

  “I must request that for the time being you refrain from talking with anyone about the events of this morning. Your cooperation would be a great help to me.”

  “Of course.”

  “That includes Mrs. Lockhart as well, obviously,” Lamb added.

  Lamb searched Travers’s eyes for a sign of surprise and thought he saw one flicker there. And then Travers smiled again.

  “Obviously,” he said.

  FIVE

  AS LAMB LEFT TRAVERS, HE FOUND HIMSELF SETTING OUT AGAIN on another search through the house. This time he was looking for the room in which Wallace and Sergeant Cashen were taking statements from the staff and patients. He realized suddenly that he had neglected to ask Hornby the location of this room and decided to retrace his steps to the foyer, where he might find someone he could ask. But before he reached the steps leading down to the main floor, Nurse Stevens suddenly appeared again—almost, Lamb thought, as if she had been keeping tabs on his movements.

  “Lost again, Chief Inspector?” she asked.

  “I’m afraid so. I’m looking for the room in which my men are collecting statements.”

  “I’ll take you there. I’ve been assisting your sergeant in shuttling people in and out. I think, actually, that they are close to finishing up. As you might know, we run a relatively small operation here.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Lamb said. “Lead on, please.”

  They followed the path along which they had gone to Travers’s room, with the exception being that, once they reached the main foyer, they continued down a hall into the house’s eastern portion, where Hornby had given Lamb’s team a large room that the hospital rarely used.

  “Here we are,” Nurse Stevens said, opening the double doors to the room. “This once served as a kind of room for parties and dances, I think, though we have no use for it at present.”

  The room contained a large, polished wooden table at its center, with four or five matching chairs lined along either side. The wall opposite the door was dominated by a half-dozen high, wide windows, all of which were curtained. However, someone—Lamb guessed it was Nurse Stevens—had pulled back the curtains on the three middle windows to allow some natural light into the room. Cashen was seated at the table with his back to the windows, interviewing a young nurse who sat across the table from them. Wallace was leaning against the far end of the table sipping something from a blue-and-white china cup that Lamb at first guessed was tea. But as he entered the room he saw that the only other piece of furniture it contained was a rectangular table that was pushed against the wall to the right of the door and which had sitting on it a pot of coffee, a dozen more china cups like the one from which Wallace sipped arranged on a tea towel along with matching saucers, a bowl of sugar, and a container of milk. Lamb smelled the coffee, which put him in the mood for a cup and a cigarette. He had found that twice turning down Travers’s offers of a Lucky Strike had tested his reserves of willpower, but he had not wanted to be taken off his guard while interviewing the lieutenant. Now, though, he felt as if he could at least briefly relax his diligence.

  When Wallace saw Lamb, his eyes widened in surprise and he stood erect.

  “Hello, sir; just taking a bit of a break,” he said as Lamb approached him.

  Lamb didn’t begrudge Wallace his break and didn’t want to seem to. “Do I smell coffee, then?” he asked.

  “You do indeed; and quite good it is, too,” Wallace said. “The nurse fetched it for us. Very kind of her, I thought.”

  Lamb poured a cup and added a spot of milk. He didn’t like sugar in his coffee, but nonetheless lifted the lid on the sugar bowl to see if it actually contained the substance. The bowl was filled almost to brimming with sugar—another otherwise everyday commodity that, like cigarettes, had become dear and rationed since the coming of the war. The amount of sugar the bowl contained was more than Lamb had seen in any one place since the war began.

  He took a quick sip of the coffee and found it to be hot, strong, and delicious, unlike the watered-down swill he’d grown used to drinking. He moved next to Wallace and lit a cigarette.

  “How are we coming, David?” he asked.

  “We’re close to finishing; Cashen is interviewing the last nurse now, save the head nurse.”

  “Good,” Lamb said. “I’d actually like to interview Nurse Stevens.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  “There’s also a cook and a kitchen assistant, according to Hornby. Did you speak to them?”

  “Yes, sir. Frankly, no one has had much of interest to say. No one saw or heard anything unusual last night and otherwise the general gist is that they knew Lee, or knew of him, but had little or no contact with him. Those who did say that they had spoken to him now and then described him as ill-mannered and boastful, and three of the nurses said outright that they avoided him because he had a habit of making lewd comments toward them. Nobody really admitted to liking him much. As for the kitchen people, both claimed never to have spoken to him at all; the cook said their paths simply never crossed Lee’s.”

  The two stood together without speaking for a minute or so, as Lamb savored his cigarette and coffee. The brief silence discomfited Wallace, who found himself musing—as he often did now—how much Lamb knew of the extent of his relationship with Vera and whether he approved. Wallace always had considered Lamb a kind of sphinx, a man who rarely showed emotion and yet was tuned in to those of everyone round him. Wallace was glad, therefore, when he heard Sergeant Cashen, who was seated at the opposite end of the table, call the two of them over.

  Lamb ground out his cigarette against the bottom of his shoe and placed the stub into the pocket of his raincoat.

  Cashen still was seated across from the young nurse he’d been interviewing when Lamb had entered the room. He introduced the girl as Nurse Anderson and said she had an interesting story that he believed Lamb should hear.

  “How do you do, Miss Anderson?” Lamb said. “I am Chief Inspector Thomas Lamb and this is Detective Sergeant David Wallace.”

  The nurse smile
d at the men and said, “How do you do, sirs?” She had dark hair tied up and tucked beneath her nurse’s cap, and a kind of flattish nose and round face. She wore a uniform that was exactly like the one Nurse Stevens wore, except that her bib and apron were brown, whereas Stevens’s were green, which Lamb guessed signified the latter’s superior rank.

  He and Wallace sat next to Cashen, so that the three of them faced Nurse Anderson.

  “Please tell the chief inspector what you were just telling me, miss,” Cashen said.

  Nurse Anderson straightened in her seat a bit.

  “Well, I was saying, sir, that I had an experience with Joseph Lee that I found strange. Although I know he sometimes made unwelcome comments to some of the other nurses, he was friendly enough toward me during the few times we spoke, though always a bit strange-like too.”

  “How was he strange?” Lamb asked.

  “He would say things that didn’t necessarily have anything to do with anything else that you could put your finger on, really. I only ran into him a few times, in the cellar, when I had business in the kitchen. He used to come there to get his meals at odd hours of the day. A few months ago, I passed him in the hall down there and he lifted his hat to me, in a greeting-like, and rather than saying ‘good day’ or something of the kind, he blurted out that the following day would be thirty years exactly since the Titanic sank and that he’d known most of the people who had died on the ship that day. He seemed pleased by that, which I found morbid. And then, just two weeks ago, I happened upon him again in the hall by the kitchen. I tried to avoid him, but there was no getting around him. And that’s when he told me that the cellar was haunted by the ghost of Lord Elton.”

  “And who is Lord Elton?”

  “Well, I don’t know for certain, sir, though Mr. Lee claimed that he was the former master of Elton House and that he’d been murdered here, during the first war, and that they’d found his body floating in the pond.”

  “I see,” Lamb said. “And did he say anything else?”

  “Well, he tried to convince me to come to a place in the cellar he knew and that he could prove to me there that the house was haunted. But I told him I had no intention of going to any haunted spot and went on my way as quickly as I could.”

  “Did he say where this haunted spot was?”

  “Yes, sir. There’s a door at the end of the hall in the cellar where the kitchen and the pantry are. It’s locked and I’ve never had any cause to open it, nor has anybody else I know here. But Mr. Lee claimed it hid a secret passageway and that’s where Lord Elton’s ghost dwelled.”

  “And did you have any encounters with Mr. Lee after that, miss, especially during the last couple of days?”

  “No, sir. That was the last time I spoke to him. And now I find out that he’s been killed and found floating in the pond, and so when the sergeant started asking me questions, like, I thought I’d better tell him what Mr. Lee had said to me.”

  “You’ve done right to tell us, Nurse,” Lamb said.

  The door to the room opened and Nurse Stevens stepped in.

  “We won’t keep you any longer from your duties, miss,” Lamb said to Nurse Anderson. “Thank you again for your assistance. You can go now.”

  Nurse Anderson stood and nodded at the three men. “Good morning, gentlemen,” she said. She turned to find Nurse Stevens waiting by the door.

  “Come now,” Nurse Stevens said. “You’re needed in the group activity.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” the younger nurse said.

  Once Anderson was gone, Nurse Stevens turned to the detectives. “Well, gentlemen, that’s everyone. Is there anything else I can do to assist you?”

  Lamb stood. “I understand that you have not been interviewed yet, Nurse,” he said.

  Surprise lit Stevens’s eyes. “No, I haven’t,” she said. “I suppose I thought it wouldn’t be necessary given that you’ve already spoken with Dr. Hornby.”

  “All the same,” Lamb said. “We do like to interview everyone. I wonder if you have a moment now?”

  Nurse Stevens stood rigid at the door for several seconds. Then she closed the door and said to Lamb, “Of course, Chief Inspector.”

  SIX

  BEFORE SITTING DOWN WITH NURSE STEVENS, LAMB SENT CASHEN and Wallace back to the pond to assist Larkin and Rivers in their searches. Lamb took a minute to refresh his cup of coffee as Nurse Stevens sat at the table and waited for him.

  “Thank you for your assistance, today,” Lamb said as he seated himself across from her. “I don’t think this will take long.”

  “As long as it takes, Chief Inspector,” the nurse said.

  “I wonder what you can tell me about Mr. Lee,” Lamb began. “My impression is that he was not well-liked about the place. I keep hearing that he was a braggart and a bore.”

  Nurse Stevens folded her hands on the table and raised her chin slightly. “He was those things, yes,” she said. “Though I suppose it depended on how one approached him. I did not have any trouble with him, for example, though several of the nurses complained to me about off-color comments he’d made to them.”

  “Did you speak to him about these comments?”

  “No. That would be Dr. Hornby’s job. I told him about the comments but don’t know if he spoke to Mr. Lee about them. I assume that he did.”

  “So, do I take it then, that you spoke to Lee regularly?”

  “When I encountered him, yes. As I said, he was not impolite to me and I was not to him.”

  “Did he ever speak to you about the publican’s daughter, a young woman named Theresa Hitchens?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know Theresa Hitchens, or her father, Horace Hitchens?”

  “No. Then, too, I don’t go into Marbury much. Only for the occasional walk. I don’t have much of a respite from my duties here, nor do I need much of one. I believe in the work that Dr. Hornby is doing here for these men. I believe he truly cares about helping them to recover.”

  “How about a man named Alan Fox, a resident of Marbury? I’m told that Mr. Lee was heard arguing with him in the High Street two nights ago.”

  “I’m sorry. I don’t recognize that name.”

  “So Mr. Lee did not mention to you, even in passing, that he had argued with someone in the village.”

  “Well, he wouldn’t have, you see, because I hadn’t spoken to Mr. Lee since the Saturday last, when Dr. Hornby asked me to order him to clear out some detritus—broken twigs and leaves and the like—that had collected in the rear courtyard over the winter. I gather that Lee was supposed to have done this weeks ago, but hadn’t yet.”

  “Did you check to see if he had done it?”

  “No—again, that would be Dr. Hornby’s responsibility. I was merely acting as Dr. Hornby’s intermediary when I asked Lee to do the job.”

  “How long have you worked here?”

  “Slightly more than a year, since spring 1941. I was working as a private nurse in Portsmouth when I heard about the sanatorium that Dr. Hornby had opened here. Frankly, I had grown a bit tired of my previous posting and wanted something different. So I applied here and Dr. Hornby accepted me. He has since seen fit to promote me to head nurse, for which I am grateful.”

  “I take it you have quarters here?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do they look out upon the rear of the house?”

  “They do.”

  “Did you see or hear anything unusual coming from the area of the pond either last night or early this morning?”

  “No. But then, I’m a sound sleeper. Even had there been something, I don’t know that it would have awakened me.”

  “Do you know of anyone either here or in the village who disliked Joseph Lee enough to hurt him? Or anyone he’d rowed with?”

  The nurse shook her head. During the interview she had not moved. Her hands remained folded together on the table and her chin erect. “No one,” she said.

  “And you had no conflicts with him?”


  “None, sir. As I said, I didn’t share the same aversion to him as others seemed to. I spoke to him when we met during our regular duties and when Dr. Hornby asked me to on his behalf. Apart from that we did not have a relationship.”

  “What is your relationship with Janet Lockhart?”

  “Cordial enough. She is helpful, certainly.”

  “Are you responsible for assigning her duties?”

  “No, as she is not an employee. Her arrangement here is with Dr. Hornby. She approached him and asked if she might volunteer her services and he agreed. She predates my coming here. As long as she does not get in the way of myself or the other nurses, I’m happy to have her assistance.”

  “And does she get in the way at times?”

  “Not as such.”

  “Can you explain what you mean by that, please?”

  “Well, she has no medical training but sometimes feels as if it is her place to offer medical opinions. But I let Dr. Hornby handle those situations.”

  “Are you speaking of her offering certain patients grief counseling?”

  “If you must know, Chief Inspector, yes. I believe it to be a lot of nonsense and, in that way, potentially harmful. But Dr. Hornby approves of it and allows it.”

  “Are you aware that she is counseling Lieutenant Travers?”

  “Yes.”

  “And is Dr. Hornby aware of this, do you know?”

  “I believe that he is. But you would be best asking him that question if you want to make certain.”

  “Yes, of course,” Lamb said. He paused to take a sip of his coffee. He sensed that Nurse Stevens was beginning to coil a bit tightly.

  “This is delicious coffee, by the way,” Lamb said, placing his cup again on its saucer. “Do you know where it comes from?”

  “I think it’s Brazilian. But I don’t handle the food stores.”