Doctor Who - Black Orchid by Terence Dudley

Author:Terence Dudley [Dudley, Terence]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Published: 2011-02-05T06:47:37.729633+00:00

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.

‘How could you possibly suggest such a thing?’ she said.

‘It would be most improper. Such things must be left to the police.’

The Doctor was rebuked but he had it in his heart to help this troubled woman. His instinct told him that she knew more than she was prepared to admit but also that she must be innocent of any complicity in murder. He found himself saying, ‘There’s nothing in the letter that would help the police.’

‘Help them?’

‘To explain why he died. It’s a letter from his mother.

Quite short. Saying how nice it was to see him again.

That’s all.’ He forebore to say that the mother was curious about the nature of her son’s job and was anxious lest it be something unlawful. He forebore to say that the whole tone of the letter implied that Digby’s employment was a close secret. He saw some of the anxiety drain from Lady Cranleigh’s face but left behind were suspicious shadows and haunted eyes. He had seldom felt more uncomfortable.

The haunted eyes searched his.

‘I’m deeply sorry, Doctor, that you’ve had this dreadful experience.’

‘No less dreadful for you, Lady Cranleigh.’

‘But you are a guest in this house.’ Lady Cranleigh couldn’t be more regal than the queen she was dressed to resemble had been when she suggested that the breadless of Paris eat cake. ‘I would be most grateful if you would help me keep this unpleasantness from my other guests.

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