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Authors: Caroline Dunford

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‘Now, now, dear, don't let the nasty man upset you,' answered her sister.

‘I reckon the stupid man is only trying to frighten us,' said Martha haughtily. ‘As Miss …' she looked at me.

‘St John,' I supplied.

‘As Miss St John remarked, the man has no way of telling one stocking from another.'

‘I reckon he was doin' it for a bet with the lads,' broke in Abigail. ‘Who can get the underthings off a suffragette! You know the kind of thing.'

‘Well, really,' said Martha, turning away in disgust.

‘Was she strangled?' asked Constance, the doctor's wife. ‘I would have thought …' she tailed off.

‘It was still dark and the body was removed quickly,' said Mary. ‘I think all of us were too shocked to take notice of the details.'

‘I mean, if she had been hanged,' continued Constance, ‘I mean, hanged herself, then it would have been obvious by the colouring, but strangled, I am unsure …'

Jasmine Pettigrew sat down heavily on the bench all the colour draining from her face. ‘Have some thought for others,' snapped her sister, Eunice. ‘My poor sister is prone to fainting fits.'

‘Undo her stays, then,' said Abigail, not too unkindly. ‘They are an unnatural harness for any woman and you too seem to have right pulled yours in.'

‘Eunice,' moaned Jasmine, ‘is that gal mentioning
underthings
?'

‘Too right I am,' said Abigail. ‘Next thing you know that copper'll be checking to see all our laces are intact.'

Jasmine gave a low moan at this and slid onto the floor, her eyes fluttering. Her sister fussed over her. ‘Now see what you have done, you unnatural creature,' she cried.

‘I have smelling salts in my reticule – oh, blast it. They took that away,' said Martha. ‘Fan her face.'

‘With what?' said Abigail as Eunice flapped her hands uselessly around her sister's face. ‘Undo her stays, you silly besom. There's no way she should have slept in something that tight. It's a wonder there's any blood left in her head.'

‘Allow me,' said Constance. She turned Jasmine on her side and then quickly and efficiently loosened her stays. Gradually the colour came back to Jasmine's face. Constance helped her sit up slowly and demanded someone find her a glass of water.

I found some leftover water in a forgotten mug and passed it to her. ‘Did you learn about this sort of thing from your husband?' I asked, impressed.

Constance nodded. ‘I asked him for information on the sort of injuries that one might expect to find after a march.'

‘He does not mind you attending?' asked Martha.

‘Of course not,' said Constance. ‘He says that in another time I would have had the brains to be a doctor myself.'

‘What a forward-thinking man,' said Martha in somewhat shocked tones.

‘There are women who have qualified as doctors, I believe,' said Mary. ‘A very few indeed. Of course they are not allowed to practise.'

‘Then what the hell is the bleedin' point?' asked Abigail.

‘Why, to show the men they are capable,' said Mary. ‘Just as I have taken degree examinations, but will never be awarded a degree in my lifetime, despite my excellent marks.'

‘I do believe the female brain, while smaller, makes many more internal connections than the male, and thus leads to a superior intelligence when correctly trained.' Angela Blackwood spoke for the first time. ‘I am an amateur, but extremely keen, anatomist and botanist. Angela Blackwood. You may have heard of me.'

26
Only a man could have come up with a name like that. It sounds terribly school boyish to me.

27
I am of course imagining what a bear would sound like. I have yet to meet one. Although my life has so far proved so unpredictable that I am not ruling out encountering a bear one day.

28
Not that I have ever been to India, but I can imagine. Stapleford Hall had a rug that was once a tiger and still displayed quite daunting teeth and claws. I used to dream it had awakened and was stalking the house looking for people to eat. When I told Merry, she said she would leave a trail of breadcrumbs from it to Richard Stapleford's study just in case.

Chapter Fifteen

Introductions

‘I am afraid I did not know.' Mary was the first to recover. ‘It is not my field of speciality.'

‘Yes, I heard you say you were an academic,' said Angela brusquely. ‘Never wanted to have a man sanctioning my learning.'

‘The college I attended was entirely staffed by women,' said Mary calmly.

‘Bet they were all appointed by men. All their learning would come from books written by men. I make up my own mind.'

‘But you cannot disregard the accumulated knowledge of all those who have gone before us,' said Mary astonished.

‘Don't see why not,' snapped Angela. ‘A sharp knife and a dead rabbit will teach me as much as any anatomy book.'

‘But not of human anatomy,' I pointed out.

‘Yes, well, I'm wearing one, aren't I?' She waggled a long finger at us, and I could not help noticing the fingernail was ragged and especially dirty.

‘How extraordinary,' exclaimed Martha, putting into words what we were doubtless all thinking; then she added, none too quietly, ‘She must be quite mad.'

‘Doubtless I would be considered so by some,' answered Angela, ‘but for me the world is full of the insane and I am among the few to notice.'

‘As an anatomist,' I ventured, ‘do you have any views on how a young woman might be strangled silently with a stocking.'

Angela shrugged. ‘Easily enough. Tie a knot in the stocking. Get that over the lump you have here in your throat.' She thrust out a grimy hand to touch my neck. I managed to force myself not to step back, but I could not repress a wince. ‘Preferably have her on the front. Knee in the back, cross the stocking and pull. She wasn't much of a girl. I doubt it would have taken much effort or much time. Of course, the better the stocking the better it would have worked.'

‘And
how
would you know this?' asked Mary.

Angela tapped the side of her temple. ‘The application of a little logical thought.' She gave a sneer showing yellowed teeth. ‘I would have thought a mathematician, of all people, would be able to do some rudimentary deduction.'

Jasmine gave a low moan. ‘Oh my dear,' said Eunice, patting her hand. ‘Mrs Woodley, do you think she will recover?'

Constance came over and sat beside Jasmine again. She took her wrist in a light grip and closed her eyes. A moment later she commented, ‘Her pulse is still a little fluttery, but it is quite clearly there.'

‘If she didn't have one she'd be dead,' said Angela sharply. ‘Any fool can see she's still breathing despite those damn fool things!' She indicated the half-open stays. I had to agree that the Pettigrew sisters, perhaps in deference to their age and experience, were among the most tightly laced women I have ever beheld. ‘Never wear underthings myself. Much better to let nature do its work and have a fresh flow of air round there!'

Jasmine, who had opened her eyes at this extraordinary speech, gave a little cry and slumped back down on the floor.

‘Playacting,' muttered Angela, none too quietly. I felt she had a point, but I was aware I would make myself extremely unpopular if I sided with her. As it was my frequent trips away from the cell would surely have aroused suspicions. And as if on cue, Abigail Stokes rounded on me. ‘Where you been gadding off to again?' she snarled. ‘You a coppers' nark?'

‘Is there anything in particular you are worried about me narking about?' I countered. I sensed with Abigail one needed to give as good as one got.

‘You saying I'm a murderer?' growled Abigail.

‘It appears one of us is,' said Mary calmly.

‘Yeah, that's as may be, but I want to know if Lady High-and-Mighty here is accusing me.'

‘I am accusing no one,' I said as icily as I could, ‘and I am hardly high and mighty. I am the paid companion of Richenda Muller.'

‘A German?' asked Abigail. She spat on the floor. ‘Bloody Germans.'

‘We have met some very nice German people on our walking holidays,' said Eunice suddenly. ‘A most tidy and correct people.'

‘Lovely table manners,' added Jasmine weakly.

‘Oh, Jasmine,' cried Eunice. She and Constance helped Jasmine to sit up.

‘Perhaps,' said Mary, ‘it might help if we shared a little of ourselves with each other.'

‘What good would that do?' demanded Angela, ‘The murderess is bound to lie.'

‘But the others will tell the truth,' I countered.

‘Think you'll be able to tell the difference?' asked Angela. ‘It seems to me that even those of you who are supposedly trained in the ways of analysis have exceptionally poor skills.'

‘I think it would be a good idea,' said Constance. ‘If we all work together perhaps we will be able to expose the killer in our midst.'

Jasmine gave another little moan at this. Constance gave her a sideways glance and an expression I recognised crossed her face. It was exactly how I felt when Richenda was being particularly tiresome.
29

‘We could start with explaining why we joined the Sisterhood?' suggested Mary. ‘As I have said I am a trained mathematician, but barred from holding the same degree as my male peers despite proving I am their equal. I feel the injustice between the sexes most keenly.'

‘As some of you know I am a doctor's wife,' said Constance, picking up the thread, ‘My husband is keen for our son to follow in his footsteps, but it is already clear to me that my daughter is the brighter of the two. Why should she not enjoy the same opportunities?'

‘Because it is our duty to bear sons and daughters for our husbands,' cut in Martha Lake.

‘Regretting joining the Shrieking Sisterhood, are you?' asked Abigail.

Martha blushed red. ‘I do not wish to disturb the natural order of things. A woman's role is to raise children for the future of the Empire. It is her whole purpose in life.' There was a sharp intake of breath and I saw Eunice's mouth was tightly pursed. Even her fingers had curled into fists. ‘However,' said Martha. She licked her lips. ‘However, I do see that women are as intelligent as men. Often more so.' She gave a short little laugh. ‘And I think it is right we have a say in the running of things. I believe we should have the vote.'

‘What about earning our own livings?' burst out Eunice. ‘It may be alright for those born into the upper classes, or those endowed with such natural graces that they avail themselves of marriage to escape their station, but some of us have little choice. My sister and I cared for elderly father until his death two years ago. He had been respectably in trade, but the early death of our mother in a terrible accident and the ruination of his business by an unscrupulous banker, occasioned the loss of his health. For the greater part of our lives my sister and I have supported him through our work as teachers.'

‘And we were happy to do so,' added Jasmine. A tear trickled down her cheek.

‘But as impoverished school teachers with a dependent father and, we both own it, no exceptional looks, there was never any prospect of marriage for either of us. Let alone bearing children.'

‘No indeed,' said Jasmine. ‘But working with them helped, didn't it, dear?'

‘Of course, dear,' responded Eunice, ‘we have helped shape the minds of many children. Who knows but that one of them may not do the Empire a great service.'

‘Or you may have simply helped them grow into decent, moral adults,' I said. ‘That in itself is a worthy life choice.'

‘Thank you, my dear,' said Eunice. ‘Not everyone appreciates that the natural human animal is one that comes completely uncivilised into the world. Manners may maketh man, but they must be learned.'

‘Oh, give me strength,' muttered Angela.

‘I assume your reason for joining the Sisterhood is that you believe men and women are created equal.'

‘No,' snapped Angela. ‘I believe women are better. In fact I prefer women.'

Again there was the sound of intakes of breath while this statement was considered. ‘Well, I don't,' said Abigail firmly. ‘I like men a lot of the time.' She nodded at Martha, ‘Though I accept a lot of them can be right little bug –' she coughed and corrected herself, ‘blighters. My mam's mam was a worker in a mill. She was one of twelve. Didn't fancy spending her whole life in the mill, so she ran off to London to make her fortune.'

‘That would not seem very wise,' said Eunice, frowning.

‘Nah,' said Abigail, ‘it wasn't, but she didn't have a lot of options, did she? Had even bleedin' less in London. Ended up, like most of you ladies have guessed, walking the streets. That's 'ow I came about,' she looked around and seemed to stare at Martha in particular, ‘but despite how she had to earn her crust, she were a good ma. Determined I wouldn't end up the same way she did. Saved up she did and apprenticed me to a seamstress. Now, I sew gowns for some of the finest in the land. Not that they will ever know it.'

And your mother, dear?' asked Jasmine.

‘Dead, I expect. Didn't want me to be associated with what she did – and the seamstress who took me on, only did 'cause Mam overpaid and promised not to hang around me.'

‘You can't know that,' I said.

‘Lifespan on the streets ain't that long,' said Abigail. ‘Besides, she'd be too old for the game by now. One of her men or the drink will have done for her.'

‘Good heavens,' I said, ‘how terrible. She must have been very brave.'

Abigail gave me a strange look.

‘Very foolish,' said Martha. ‘If she'd stayed in the place God had given her she would have been perfectly safe.'

BOOK: A Death for a Cause
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