Page 67 of From the Ashes
"She requires no explanation," Lincoln said, indicating I should walk ahead of him into the kitchen.
"That doesn't mean she won't demand one. I suppose we'll have to lie."
He asked Cook to make us something for a late breakfast then turned to Doyle. "See that Charlie's rooms are warm. Do you require a bath?" he asked me.
"God, yes. The sooner I get the stink of that cell off me, the better." I moved to the stove and helped Cook fry some bacon and eggs. Lincoln prepared two trays on the table.
"So what happened?" Cook asked.
I described our evening to him, and something occurred to me as I spoke. "No one has followed us this morning, or tried to attack," I said to Lincoln. "Does that mean Fawkner was the only spy at the hospital, and since we caught him, the killer cannot be alerted?"
"To rely solely on someone like Fawkner would be an amateurish mistake," he said, leaning back against the wall near the pantry, his arms crossed over his chest. "Our killer isn't an amateur. It probably means they aren't willing to attack yet, so as not to show their hand too early. That's what I would do."
"Or perhaps it's not a committee member, after all. Perhaps whoever it is hasn't yet heard about our encounter with Bell last night."
"It's a possibility."
"Are you going to question Fawkner?"
"After breakfast. I can wait until after you bathe if you want to join me."
Why was he asking me to interrogate Fawkner with him? To involve me in the investigation? Or because he was afraid of the methods he'd use if I wasn't there to temper his violent streak?
"No, thank you. I'm tired. I think I'll rest."
"There you both are!" Lady Vickers stood in the kitchen doorway, the invisible barrier keeping her out of Cook's domain. "Who is our new guest? Seth wouldn't tell me. He suggested I speak to you about it."
"His name is Dr. Fawkner," Lincoln said.
"A doctor?" She pursed her lips in thought. "While I think you can do better, my dear girl, a doctor might suit if there are no other candidates. How fortunate that we can study his manner at close quarters. Do you know his connections, Mr. Fitzroy?"
It was so absurd that I couldn't help the bubble of laughter escaping. "Madam, I dislike Dr. Fawkner intensely."
She sighed. "Well, I suppose it's my own fault for telling you to set your sights high."
I rolled my eyes.
"I do expect you to be civil to him, Charlie," she snipped. "You must take tea with him and such. You may not like him, but you might like his friends. It's important to present yourself in the most agreeable manner to everyone. You never know how a connection will be made."
"Charlie won't be taking tea with him," Lincoln said. "No one will. He's not to be disturbed."
"Why not?"
"He's ill."
Her hand fluttered to her chest. "Nothing catching, I hope."
"It's highly contagious."
She gasped. "Good lord. Why isn't he in hospital?"
"It's a long story, and one I don't wish to go into right now."
That seemed to satisfy Lady Vickers. I expect the fact that Lincoln was the one to tell her had much to do with her believing the story. If I or someone else did, I doubt she'd be so trusting. Lincoln did have a rather straight way of delivering his lies so that I, too, found him utterly believable at times.
Lady Vickers left, muttering under her breath about diseases and cleanliness. Bella entered a moment later and I suspected she'd been waiting for her mistress to depart. Lincoln told her about our new guest and repeated his warning about staying away. She, too, believed every word, so much so that when Seth returned, she screwed up her face and told him to scrub himself clean before he came near her.
"What have I done now?" he asked, throwing up his hands.
