Black Orchid by Terence Dudley

Author:Terence Dudley [Dudley, Terence]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780426202547
Publisher: W.H. Allen
Published: 1987-02-14T08:00:00+00:00

The Doctor studied the noble face intently. The eyes were far away in a remote sorrow. There was no mistaking the total lack of surprise at the death or at the discovery of it, but there was also no mistaking the deep compassion she felt. ‘Poor fellow,’ she whispered. ‘The poor fellow.’

The Doctor shifted his gaze to the Indian. This South American native, with the grotesque lower lip, couldn’t be more out of place in this stately English home but it was plain he lived here; the Portugese gramophone record in the other secret bedroom pointed to that. Portugese was a rarity in a country whose language was assumed to be the lingua franca of half the world but to the natives of large areas of the South American continent Portugese was a second language, a centuries old legacy from its colonists.

What was the man doing here? In ordinary circumstances the Doctor would have little trouble in finding out but here, in this house and at this time, he was denied the direct question; good manners inhibited his insatiable curiosity as firmly as steel chains.

‘Doctor?’ His train of thought was brought to an abrupt halt by Lady Cranleigh. He turned to look at her and found himself under a strange scrutiny from the formerly sorrowful eyes which now held only suspicion. ‘How did you know his name?’

The Doctor was suddenly unsettled by what looked remarkably like an accusation. Surely he wasn’t suspected of having some hand in this deed? He needed time to think.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘You said that Digby was dead when you found him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did you know him?’

‘Know him?’

‘From before, I mean.’

‘No.’

‘Then how did you know his name?’

‘There’s a letter in an inside pocket.’

‘A letter?’

‘Yes. I assumed it was addressed to him.’ The Doctor had become aware of a sudden change in the woman’s controlled demeanour. The eyes glittered with a new alertness. ‘Did you read the letter?’

The Doctor hesitated. It was true that his curiosity had got the better of him but why should she think he might have read the letter? And, even more important, why was she surrendering to a vulgar curiosity that was quite out of character for her, if not for him? Even as he hesitated he saw her alertness turn to something akin to panic. He decided on an answer that told the whole truth so far as he knew it.

‘Yes. I did.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m not sure. I suppose it was to confirm the letter was his.’

‘And was it?’

The Doctor considered the tight muscles in her face.

This woman was very frightened. ‘I think so.’

‘You think so?’

The Doctor knew there was no question in Lady Cranleigh’s mind about the identity of the dead man. She had admitted to knowledge of Digby and she had seen the body. Clearly the name and the corpse were not contradictory. What Lady Cranleigh wanted to know was the content of that letter. ‘Why don’t you look for yourself?’ he asked. The woman’s fear gave way to disdain.

She turned away as if, suddenly, the Doctor was beneath contempt.

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