Case For Mr Fortune by Bailey H. C

Author:Bailey, H. C. [Bailey, H. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery, Anthology
Published: 1932-03-09T05:00:00+00:00

SIXTH CASE

THE OAK GALL

THE man in the bed was trying to sing. “‘At Trinity Church - at Trinity Church I met my doom - -’” The words came hoarsely and were broken off by a cough. He lay drawing himself together and groaning, a big man. His unshaven face still in its haggard misery had a look of strength and scorn.

Mr. Fortune bent over him… . Dr. Frayne and a nurse helped in the examination… . The man did not resist, but he could not lie still… .

Mr. Fortune stood up and put his stethoscope aside. Dr. Frayne, arranging the man’s pyjama jacket, drew it away from a dark discolouration of the shoulder and upper arm and with a glance desired Mr. Fortune’s attention to that.

“Oh, yes, thanks,” Mr. Fortune murmured. He watched Dr. Frayne and the nurse make the man comfortable again. He slid a hand under the bolster and brought out a small round box of red wood. It contained a slip of paper and a twig on which was something round and hard and brown.

“What on earth is that?” Dr. Frayne muttered.

The nurse looked. “I don’t know what it can be, Doctor. I didn’t know he had it.”

“It’s an oak gall,” said Mr. Fortune. “With inscription.” He read from the paper. “‘You got some.’” He looked at Dr. Frayne. “Well, well!”

“What an extraordinary thing!” said Dr. Frayne.

“Yes. Unusual. However. He seemed to want it.”

Mr. Fortune shut the box and slipped it under the pillow again. His face was grave and pitiful.

The man lay restless, breathing in grunts. Again he tried to sing. “‘Oh, ‘Arriet, I’m waiting, waiting, for you, my dear I Oh, ‘Arriet - - ’” and he laughed, which was worse, and a cough tortured him.

Mr. Fortune turned away and Dr. Frayne took him downstairs to a room of sullen splendour, a library where books were not read. He sat down and with solemn eyes contemplated the shrewd red face, the large, alert efficiency of Dr. Frayne. “This isn’t much in my way, you know,” he said plaintively. “Lobar pneumonia, of course. There’s nothing else. I should say he has a very bad chance.”

“I am afraid so,” Dr. Frayne agreed.

“Yes. Quite clear. I suppose you brought me to look at that bruise?”

“I thought it best to have your opinion, Mr. Fortune. I have never had anything like it in a case of this kind. I observed it first yesterday evening and rang you up at once. It’s right to say I have complete confidence in the nurses. But I find Sir Wolseley was left without a nurse for some time yesterday. Lady Coole was with him, and also his son Herbert - the nurse left the room at their request. Afterwards he was alone for a few minutes.”

“Your inference bein’ that he was bruised by his wife and son or by himself?”

“I am simply putting the facts before you,” said Dr. Frayne.

“Oh, yes. Quite correct.”

“I have never seen such an injury in a case of this kind.

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