It all seemed, as Dorothy had said, ‘a clear case of murder’.
I studied the evidence. Nanny Gilroy’s was the most damning, as I had guessed it would be.
Yes, she was aware that there was ‘carrying on’ between the doctor and Miss Carson. So were others; Mrs. Barton and Annie Logan knew it.
“Thank you. Nurse Gilroy. They will give their evidence themselves.”
I pictured her nodding her head, self-righteously, glad because wickedness had been exposed and justice was being done.
“Let us go back to that day. Nurse Gilroy. Tell the court exactly what happened.”
And Nanny Gilroy told her story, how there had been the scene because Miss Adeline had been caught in Mrs. Marline’s bedroom and Mrs. Marline was scolding the girl when Miss Carson came in and said she shouldn’t, and Mrs. Marline was angry and was going to dismiss her. Then Miss Carson had fainted clean away. Annie Logan had examined her and it was clear what was wrong with her. That was, of course, no surprise. They all knew what was going on.
Annie Logan was called.
Yes, she had examined Miss Carson. There was no doubt that she was pregnant.
Then it was the turn of Mrs. Barton, the cook. She confirmed everything that Nanny Gilroy had said, though less venomously.
There was no doubt that Dr. Marline had been involved with Miss Carson and the whole household knew it.
Tom Yardley was called. He had found Mrs. Marline dead.
Shaken all of a heap, he was. Yes, he had known how things were.
Because of what he had seen or what he had heard from Nanny Gilroy or Mrs. Barton?
Tom Yardley looked surprised, the paper commented. I could imagine his scratching his head, as though it would help him find the answer.
“I knew her,” he told them.
“She was a bit of a tartar and led him a life …”
He was stopped and told to answer the question.
I could see that Nanny Gilroy and the others had helped Dr. Marline on the way to execution; but I had to admit what they had said had truth in it, even if it were reported in the most damning way.
Medical evidence at the post mortem revealed without doubt that Mrs. Marline had died through an overdose of the drug which was being supplied to her by Dr. Everest.
There it was . all the evidence needed to convict the doctor and, even if Nanny Gilroy had given the impression that Dr. Marline was a hypocritical seducer. Miss Carson a scarlet woman and Mrs. Marline a poor betrayed wife, nothing she had said could be proved to be an actual untruth. It was merely Nanny Gilroy’s version of what had happened.
Then there were the letters.
Miss Carson had left Commonwood House and was away for a week.
She had said ‘visiting friends’, but it appeared that she had gone to a hotel in the town of Manley, some twenty miles away, and had stayed there for five days at the Bunch of Grapes.
While there, she had visited a doctor and pregnancy was confirmed.
During her stay there, she had received two letters from Dr. Marline, and she had kept those letters. They had been discovered when she was arrested and her belongings searched.
If any confirmation of Dr. Marline’s guilt had been needed, it could be found in those letters.
They were read in court.
My dearest Kitty, How I long for your return. It is so dismal here without you. Don’t fret, my darling, I’ll work something out. Whatever happens, we shall be together and, if there is indeed a child, how blessed we shall be.
You must not blame yourself. You say you should never have come here.
Well, my dearest, that would have been the worst of calamities, for, since you came, I have known such happiness as I had never thought would come my way. I am determined not to give up. Whatever has to be done, we will do it. Trust me, my darling. Yours for ever, Edward.
There was another letter on the same lines, vowing his eternal devotion, stressing the happiness she had brought him and his determination that nothing, nothing should stand in their way of keeping it.
I thought of what their feelings must have been when the letters were read in court, and the agony they must have suffered when they were on trial for their lives.
They were damning, those letters, and I was deeply moved. Oh, poor Dr. Marline. Oh, poor, poor Miss Carson. He had died ignobly in his misery, but she had had to live with hers.
I looked at my watch. It was half past three. I sat for a while, thinking of it all. There was a brief account of what happened afterwards. There had not been enough evidence to condemn Kitty Carson, and the fact that she was to have a child, as the press implied, meant that she could not be sent to the gallows.
What had happened to her, I wondered?
Dorothy came out and joined me.
“Well,” she said.
“You’ve read it?”
“Yes.”
“Obvious, isn’t it?”
“I suppose people would say so.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“It would seem it must be. But you see, I knew him.”
“I know how you feeclass="underline" you can’t bring yourself to believe he’s a murderer. Jefferson Craig wrote about that. His book is fascinating. I wrote to him when I read it. I told him how much I had enjoyed it. I had a nice letter back.”
“What happened to Miss Carson?”
“I think he looked after her. He did that with some people he was interested in. Rehabilitated them. That’s what they call it. I did hear that he had helped her.”
“I wonder so much about her.”
“Well, we shall never know, but you see, don’t you, that there really couldn’t have been any doubt.”
“I suppose most people would say so.”
She laughed and patted my hand.
“You don’t like that verdict, do you? It was a pity that woman couldn’t have died by natural causes and then the lovers could have married and lived happily ever after. They would have been an ordinary couple then. Oh yes, it’s a pity life didn’t work out like that. It does sometimes.
“Look, Lawrence is coming in. I expect he wants his tea.”
There were stables nearby where horses could be hired and later Lawrence and I went riding together. I had improved my riding considerably and he commented on my skill.
“One rode everywhere in Australia,” I told him.
“You are not thinking of returning, are you?”
“Not immediately.”
“Sometime?”
“Who is to say? Everything is so uncertain just now.”
“I can’t help thinking what a piece of luck it was that we both happened to be on that ship. If we hadn’t been there at precisely that time, we might never have met again.”
That’s true. But that is the way of life, isn’t it? So much is based on chance. “
He showed me the local beauty spots the vale, for which the place was famous, and the ancient ruined castle. We tethered our horses and climbed to the ramparts. We leaned over them, admiring the countryside.
“It would be difficult to find a more pleasant spot,” said Lawrence.
“Dorothy discovered it, of course. She thought we must have this country retreat. She was right, of course.”
I thought how right Dorothy always was.
“You and she get on very well together,” he said, smiling.
“She doesn’t usually take to people quite so quickly.”
“I’m glad,” I said.
“So am I,” replied Lawrence, smiling happily. And then:
“You’ll come again soon, won’t you?”
“If you and Dorothy ask me,” I replied.
Lawrence brought me back to Kensington on Sunday evening.