Read Online Antidote To Murder by Felicity Young - Free Book Online
Authors: Felicity Young
Tags: Fiction, Historical
Ads: Link
would ’ave walked out the larder by itself.” Cook turned to Dody. “I’m ’aving a terrible time stopping things from going orf, miss. The milk on the doorstep was sour before I got the chance to bring it in this morning.”
“Try not to worry too much about it, Mrs. Crabbe,” Dody said, “and maybe order fewer perishables. None of us is hungry in this heat.”
“I don’t see why baby-killers should be treated so special,” Annie huffed. She had been serving tea when Dody told Florence about the Kent case. No matter how often Dody chastised her, eavesdropping to Annie was as much a God-given right as her weekly half-day off. She wondered also how much the girl had taken in of her explanation to Florence of Everard’s treachery—the whole lot probably. Perhaps it was time for another what-goes-on-in-the-house-stays-in-the-house lecture.
“We don’t yet know the truth, Annie. A person is innocent until proven guilty.” And besides, Dody thought, the food in the basket might help loosen hungry tongues. Not that she was particularly eager to see either of the wretched parents convicted of infanticide—if only the solution were that simple. What she really wanted was the unscrupulous supplier who had sold them the deadly lead medication and the know-how to use it.
“I don’t think you should go there by yourself, Dody—let me come, too,” Florence said.
Dody shook her head. “The place is a cesspool of germs. I wouldn’t want you to get ill.”
Florence grimaced. “No, you weren’t at all well after the last visit.”
“I was fortunate to get only a mild dose of English cholera. I probably won’t get ill a second time, but you would almost certainly be vulnerable. Don’t worry, I can manage on my own.”
Florence did not press the point, though she did grumble about being left alone with nothing to do for the remainder of the afternoon.
“Read your book, write to Mother and Poppa,” Dody said.
Florence paused for thought. “I might see if Daphne’s free to visit Lady Harriet Frobisher with me.”
“The household struck with cholera? Don’t have anything to eat or drink there, for goodness’ sake. You’d be better off coming with me after all.”
“I think they are just about over it now. Besides, it can’t really be as dangerous as the place you’re visiting.”
Dody shrugged. “Perhaps not. Mrs. Crabbe, I need you to keep a variety of food scraps readily available at all times. Tell me in advance what you plan on leaving out for the pig man; I want first refusal on all kitchen waste—bread, cake, meat, fish, cheese, et cetera.” She turned to Florence. “Before I start with the TB samples, I have to find out what food appeals to the rats the most, so I know how best to reward them for successful sniffing.”
Florence, Cook, and Annie exchanged glances. “Dody,” Florence said, holding up a finger. “We really don’t want to see, hear, or smell anything more of your familiars, is that clear?”
The servants backed up their younger mistress with vigorous nods.
Dody sighed, outnumbered and suitably chastised. Back to the task in hand. She tested the weight of the basket: heavy. She would have to ask Fletcher to drop her at the chemist, a quarter-mile or so from her destination. No good would come from the visit if the locals saw her being delivered by a private motorcar. Even motorised taxis were a rarity in that particular East End neighbourhood.
* * *
T he High Street chemist was airless. Dody put down her basket with relief and pressed the bell on the counter next to a giant pestle and mortar.
Mr. Borislav emerged from the dispensing room and opened his palms in delight. “Two visits in one day: I am honoured. Are you still unwell? That pesky cholera has a tendency to come and go. Would you like some more Valentine’s Meat Juice?”
“No, no, I am much better now, thank you.”
“Your paper then—how was it received?”
“Actually, there are two things
“Try not to worry too much about it, Mrs. Crabbe,” Dody said, “and maybe order fewer perishables. None of us is hungry in this heat.”
“I don’t see why baby-killers should be treated so special,” Annie huffed. She had been serving tea when Dody told Florence about the Kent case. No matter how often Dody chastised her, eavesdropping to Annie was as much a God-given right as her weekly half-day off. She wondered also how much the girl had taken in of her explanation to Florence of Everard’s treachery—the whole lot probably. Perhaps it was time for another what-goes-on-in-the-house-stays-in-the-house lecture.
“We don’t yet know the truth, Annie. A person is innocent until proven guilty.” And besides, Dody thought, the food in the basket might help loosen hungry tongues. Not that she was particularly eager to see either of the wretched parents convicted of infanticide—if only the solution were that simple. What she really wanted was the unscrupulous supplier who had sold them the deadly lead medication and the know-how to use it.
“I don’t think you should go there by yourself, Dody—let me come, too,” Florence said.
Dody shook her head. “The place is a cesspool of germs. I wouldn’t want you to get ill.”
Florence grimaced. “No, you weren’t at all well after the last visit.”
“I was fortunate to get only a mild dose of English cholera. I probably won’t get ill a second time, but you would almost certainly be vulnerable. Don’t worry, I can manage on my own.”
Florence did not press the point, though she did grumble about being left alone with nothing to do for the remainder of the afternoon.
“Read your book, write to Mother and Poppa,” Dody said.
Florence paused for thought. “I might see if Daphne’s free to visit Lady Harriet Frobisher with me.”
“The household struck with cholera? Don’t have anything to eat or drink there, for goodness’ sake. You’d be better off coming with me after all.”
“I think they are just about over it now. Besides, it can’t really be as dangerous as the place you’re visiting.”
Dody shrugged. “Perhaps not. Mrs. Crabbe, I need you to keep a variety of food scraps readily available at all times. Tell me in advance what you plan on leaving out for the pig man; I want first refusal on all kitchen waste—bread, cake, meat, fish, cheese, et cetera.” She turned to Florence. “Before I start with the TB samples, I have to find out what food appeals to the rats the most, so I know how best to reward them for successful sniffing.”
Florence, Cook, and Annie exchanged glances. “Dody,” Florence said, holding up a finger. “We really don’t want to see, hear, or smell anything more of your familiars, is that clear?”
The servants backed up their younger mistress with vigorous nods.
Dody sighed, outnumbered and suitably chastised. Back to the task in hand. She tested the weight of the basket: heavy. She would have to ask Fletcher to drop her at the chemist, a quarter-mile or so from her destination. No good would come from the visit if the locals saw her being delivered by a private motorcar. Even motorised taxis were a rarity in that particular East End neighbourhood.
* * *
T he High Street chemist was airless. Dody put down her basket with relief and pressed the bell on the counter next to a giant pestle and mortar.
Mr. Borislav emerged from the dispensing room and opened his palms in delight. “Two visits in one day: I am honoured. Are you still unwell? That pesky cholera has a tendency to come and go. Would you like some more Valentine’s Meat Juice?”
“No, no, I am much better now, thank you.”
“Your paper then—how was it received?”
“Actually, there are two things
Similar Books
