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Authors: Linda Stratmann
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and who had a difference of opinion with her husband.’
‘Ah,’ said Dr Magrath looking suddenly troubled, but he did not elaborate.
‘I appreciate,’ Frances went on, ‘that Dr Dromgoole’s current state of health may mean that there is little of value that he can tell me, but all the same, I would like to see him.’
‘Of course, of course, and so you shall.’ Magrath thought for a moment, then tucked the card into a pocket, sprang up energetically and rang for the maid. ‘You might also like to speak with Mr Fullwood, our senior attendant, who has been concerned with Mr Dromgoole’s care and supervision since he was admitted.’
The maid appeared. ‘Doris, could you ask Mr Fullwood to prepare Mr Dromgoole to receive a visitor? And please bring me the patient’s file.’
‘ Mr Dromgoole?’ queried Frances when the maid had gone.
‘Yes, yes indeed,’ said Dr Magrath. ‘He practised medicine in Bayswater for a number of years, but although he had undertaken a course of study at university and I believe was awarded his Bachelor of Medicine he had never taken his M.D., a deception that was not exposed until his contretemps with Dr Goodwin, which I expect you know about. Dromgoole had always been somewhat unstable, but it was that dispute which precipitated his breakdown. He came to a meeting of the Bayswater Medical and Surgical Society and accused all the gentlemen there of plotting against him. They were concerned for his safety and had him restrained and committed to the public asylum. Not at all the place for a man in his situation, of course. His relative arranged for the sale of his property to enable him to be placed in more comfortable circumstances. He is quite a pitiful creature now, weak in the legs and with a mind that wanders and retains very little.’
‘Might this relative be able to assist me?’
‘He is an invalid and resides in Scotland. All the arrangements were made by his London solicitor, Mr Rawsthorne.’
As Frances digested this information, the maid returned with a folder of papers, which she handed to Dr Magrath. She had the blank composed expression of someone whose remit was to reveal nothing about the inmates of the establishment. ‘Mr Fullwood is getting the gentleman ready now,’ she said. ‘He’ll be out on the terrace.’ She gave Frances a look that might have been curiosity before she left.
‘It would be useful for me to know the dates on which the significant events occurred,’ said Frances. She rather hoped that Magrath might allow her to see the documents, but instead he studied them himself and she realised that the contents of the folder would be considered strictly private.
‘Yes, he was first brought here on 5 July 1877 after spending a month at the public asylum.’
‘So at the time of Mr Antrobus’ disappearance in October he was residing here?’
‘He was, yes.’
‘Are your patients ever allowed to leave the premises?’
Magrath paused. ‘I had assumed,’ he said cautiously, ‘that your interest in Mr Dromgoole related to discovering what information he might have about Mr Antrobus, but I am gathering the impression that you suspect him of being involved in that gentleman’s disappearance.’
‘I have to examine every possibility,’ Frances told him, ‘if only to dismiss them and move on. But so far I have found that Mr Dromgoole is the only person known to have had a disagreement with Mr Antrobus, and if, as you say, he is unstable, he might have done him harm.’
Magrath closed the folder and shook his head very emphatically. ‘Miss Doughty, our presence here would not be tolerated if we were to admit violent patients. We are an establishment for the very aged and those who are infirm and who, we can assure all the residents hereabouts, are no danger to anyone. Many of our patients are unable to walk unassisted and we take them out from time to time in bath chairs, where people can see for themselves that they are to be pitied
‘Ah,’ said Dr Magrath looking suddenly troubled, but he did not elaborate.
‘I appreciate,’ Frances went on, ‘that Dr Dromgoole’s current state of health may mean that there is little of value that he can tell me, but all the same, I would like to see him.’
‘Of course, of course, and so you shall.’ Magrath thought for a moment, then tucked the card into a pocket, sprang up energetically and rang for the maid. ‘You might also like to speak with Mr Fullwood, our senior attendant, who has been concerned with Mr Dromgoole’s care and supervision since he was admitted.’
The maid appeared. ‘Doris, could you ask Mr Fullwood to prepare Mr Dromgoole to receive a visitor? And please bring me the patient’s file.’
‘ Mr Dromgoole?’ queried Frances when the maid had gone.
‘Yes, yes indeed,’ said Dr Magrath. ‘He practised medicine in Bayswater for a number of years, but although he had undertaken a course of study at university and I believe was awarded his Bachelor of Medicine he had never taken his M.D., a deception that was not exposed until his contretemps with Dr Goodwin, which I expect you know about. Dromgoole had always been somewhat unstable, but it was that dispute which precipitated his breakdown. He came to a meeting of the Bayswater Medical and Surgical Society and accused all the gentlemen there of plotting against him. They were concerned for his safety and had him restrained and committed to the public asylum. Not at all the place for a man in his situation, of course. His relative arranged for the sale of his property to enable him to be placed in more comfortable circumstances. He is quite a pitiful creature now, weak in the legs and with a mind that wanders and retains very little.’
‘Might this relative be able to assist me?’
‘He is an invalid and resides in Scotland. All the arrangements were made by his London solicitor, Mr Rawsthorne.’
As Frances digested this information, the maid returned with a folder of papers, which she handed to Dr Magrath. She had the blank composed expression of someone whose remit was to reveal nothing about the inmates of the establishment. ‘Mr Fullwood is getting the gentleman ready now,’ she said. ‘He’ll be out on the terrace.’ She gave Frances a look that might have been curiosity before she left.
‘It would be useful for me to know the dates on which the significant events occurred,’ said Frances. She rather hoped that Magrath might allow her to see the documents, but instead he studied them himself and she realised that the contents of the folder would be considered strictly private.
‘Yes, he was first brought here on 5 July 1877 after spending a month at the public asylum.’
‘So at the time of Mr Antrobus’ disappearance in October he was residing here?’
‘He was, yes.’
‘Are your patients ever allowed to leave the premises?’
Magrath paused. ‘I had assumed,’ he said cautiously, ‘that your interest in Mr Dromgoole related to discovering what information he might have about Mr Antrobus, but I am gathering the impression that you suspect him of being involved in that gentleman’s disappearance.’
‘I have to examine every possibility,’ Frances told him, ‘if only to dismiss them and move on. But so far I have found that Mr Dromgoole is the only person known to have had a disagreement with Mr Antrobus, and if, as you say, he is unstable, he might have done him harm.’
Magrath closed the folder and shook his head very emphatically. ‘Miss Doughty, our presence here would not be tolerated if we were to admit violent patients. We are an establishment for the very aged and those who are infirm and who, we can assure all the residents hereabouts, are no danger to anyone. Many of our patients are unable to walk unassisted and we take them out from time to time in bath chairs, where people can see for themselves that they are to be pitied
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