Page 60 of The Irish Gypsy
Brockington began to babble somethingincomprehensible and the doctor looked to Kitty for anexplanation.
"I will tell you exactly what happened,Doctor, and it will be thetruth," she stressed. "I wasawakened in the middle of the night by a cry of distress. Itsounded like my brother, but he and my husband were away in London.I took my gun with me for protection while I investigated. I foundthis man and my husband raping my brother. I know there is a wordfor men like them, but I do not know what it is."
"They are pederasts," the doctor saidsharply.
"Brockington here tried to wrestle the gunfrom me and it went off accidentally, killing my husband. Heinsists it was my fault, and I could insist it was his fault, butthe truth of the matter is that we are both equally to blame."
There was a hushed silence, then the doctorwent over to Simon's body and carefully examined it.
"I'm Lord Brockington. Tell this woman tountie me immediately," he demanded.
Kitty went over to him and undid the ropesthat held him. He immediately began an undignified scramble intohis clothes. The doctor shook his head. "This is highly irregular,highly irregular!" he stressed. "You must realize I can't just signa death certificate. I wouldn't know whether to call it'accidental' or 'death by misadventure,' but that's beside thepoint. The police should be called."
Brockington protested, "Good God, man, wecan't afford a scandal like that. My father could ruin you," hethreatened.
Kitty said, "I will abide with your decision,Doctor, whatever it is."
He looked at them for a few minutes,considering different possibilities and then said, "The best I cando is consult my colleague, who is the coroner for this district.Whether or not he will call an inquest, I don't know. I'll bearound tomorrow and bring Dr. Grant-Stewart."
"Otis Grant-Stewart?" asked Brockington."Why, he's a friend of my father's!"
Kitty could see his confidence returning andtried not to panic. These upper-crust types would close ranks andshe would be destroyed. "Thank you, Dr. Fielding. I appreciate yourcoming so promptly," she said, as she showed him out.
Kitty felt drained of emotion. Mrs. Hobsonhelped her to lift Simon. Strangely, the bullet hole looked small,there was very little blood, but when they lifted his body, theysaw that the back of his head had been blown to pieces. Kittywashed him, then dressed him in the clothes he had worn in London.She felt physically numb, but her mind raced wildly, filled withthoughts of Patrick, Terrance, Simon, Brockington, the doctor, andthe coroner who would arrive tomorrow. Her mind went blank for amoment and she admonished herself:Think! What will you say whenthe doctor arrives? When Brockington and Grant-Stewart put theirheads together, I'll be the poor Irish scapegoat.She wascynical enough to realize they would have much in common and shewould be the outsider. Even if they weren't acquaintances, it wastwo men against one woman, and she didn't stand much chance.
She took a tea tray upstairs and went intothe bedroom that Lord Brockington used on his frequent visits. Hewas lying on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "I thought youprobably could use a cup of tea, I know I could." She tried to keepthe weariness out of her voice. She sipped the tea and begansoftly, "Does your father know that you are a....a pederast?"
He looked at her defiantly, but when shesteadily held his gaze, his eyes slid away and he shook his head'no'.
"This will hurt him very much, won't it?" shesaid gently. "If I were you, I think I'd get across the Channeluntil all this blows over. I've got some money I could let youhave," she offered.
Her generosity awoke his first sense ofshame. "I can't leave you to face the music alone."
"I'll be truthful with you, Brocky. We're inone hell of a mess, but I think I'd be better off alone. If theythink you've sloped off and left me to it, they'll only see thatI'm female and helpless." Then she added as a clincher, "I've got ahundred pounds you can have if you go tonight."
"Get it!" he shouted. "You don't mind if Iborrow a mount, do you?"
Relief washed over her in great waves as thefingers of the dawn crept up the darkened sky. She looked down andwas amazed to see that her clothes were bloodstained and crumpled.She had to force her legs to move. She must bathe and change beforethe worthy doctors arrived.
They drove up in a carriage at midmorning andKitty greeted Dr. Fielding with an air of innocent trust. She feltOtis Grant-Stewart scrutinize her from head to foot. She lookedpleadingly at him and her mouth began to tremble. "Doctor, LordBrockington has fled and taken all my money with him."
He looked startled. "If that is true, youshould have called the police. I told you last night the policeought to be called in." She gave a pleading little look to Dr.Grant-Stewart. "But the police would cause such a nasty scandal. Idon't wish to protect Lord Brockington, but I was thinking of hisfather."
"Quite right, my dear, quite right," said Dr.Grant-Stewart. He cleared his throat and murmured, "Ah, Dr.Fielding has quite graphically explained what was going on herelast night, I just want you to tell me about the shooting," heprompted.
"Thank you, Doctor. I was holding the gun andI was so shocked by what I saw that Lord Brockington easily tookthe gun away from me. As he did so, it went off and killed myhusband."
Dr. Fielding gave her a quick glance at thisalteration in her testimony.
"Could I see the body?" asked Dr.Grant-Stewart.
"Of course, Doctor." She turned to Dr.Fielding with a smile. "Would you have another look at my brother,Doctor? You did such a wonderful job of calming him down lastnight, I don't know what I would have done without you." He noddedand left them.
Kitty took Doctor Grant-Stewart to herhusband's bedroom. He gave the body only a cursory examination andKitty looked at him with tears in her eyes. "When I think of allthe fun they used to have. Parties every weekend; all the young menfrom the best London families. I'm afraid it will be very messywhen you reveal all the details."
He cleared his throat and said, "I think itwould save you a great deal of pain, my dear, if I just signed thedeath certificate. We'll put down 'accidental death.' Inquisitivepeople will assume it was a hunting accident, and I see no reasonwhy you should disabuse them of this idea. I'll make the burialarrangements for tomorrow."
At last she could think about sleep. Shelooked at the bed. The last time she had slept there, she had beenclasped safe in Patrick's embrace. God! How long ago that seemed.She sank into the bed and pulled the covers over her head to blotout the daylight. She slept for the next twenty hours and awoke tofind Terry shaking her. "Acushla, are you all right?"
