The Angel of Darkness - Caleb Carr [172]
“Concerning that,” the Doctor said, “the daughter was left in whose care?”
“A couple who live out on the Malta road,” Mr. Picton answered, producing his watch again and looking at it. “They’ve taken in a couple of orphans, over the years, and were more than willing to look after Clara. They’re expecting us shortly.”
The Doctor seemed slightly surprised at that, but pleased, too. “It’s completely consistent, of course,” he said, “that Mrs. Hatch would want to avoid caring for the child herself. But tell me: when she left, had the doctors assured her that Clara would never speak again?”
“Oh, yes, indeed!” Mr. Picton answered. “They thought it impossible, though even I questioned why a wound to the cervical spine should impair the power of speech. But the doctors in this area are not what one might term brilliant—or even, in some cases, competent.” Mr. Picton snapped his watch closed and tucked it away. “But we really should be on our way,” he said, starting toward the door. “I’m afraid that the Westons—that’s the couple—don’t want Clara to be overwhelmed by visitors, so I told them I’d just be bringing you, Doctor. The girl is still quite fragile, emotionally, and extremely shy of strangers—of people in general, really. I hope you all don’t mind.”
“No,” Miss Howard said, “it’s perfectly understandable.”
“We’ll just go back to my house and get the surrey,” Mr. Picton said to the Doctor. “As for the rest of you, there is a livery stable quite close by, and they hire rigs for very reasonable prices. There are a great many other things for you to do and see, after all.”
“There certainly are,” Lucius said. “Any chance of getting that chalkboard today?”
“It should arrive by this evening at the latest,” Mr. Picton answered.
“And what about the old Hatch place?” Marcus asked. “Not to mention the wagon, and Hatch’s gun—what happened to them?”
“The house and grounds are available for our inspection,” Mr. Picton said. “Mr. Wooley, at the stable, can give you directions on getting there—it’s quite easy. The wagon is still in the barn, though I’m afraid it’s falling apart. As for the gun, that’s a bit more complicated. Yes, indeed, a bit more complicated. Mrs. Wright told me that she wrapped it up and dropped it down a dry well, which you’ll find about a hundred yards down a hill, behind the garden. You’ll probably want to take the files”—he handed the stack over to Marcus—“so you can go over the details during your ride.”
“Just one more thing before we go,” Miss Howard said. “The children—do you happen to know if they were looked after by a wet nurse when they were babies?”
“A wet nurse?” Mr. Picton answered. “No, I don’t know. It shouldn’t be too hard to find out, though—Mrs. Wright still lives here in town. Why, Sara?”
“I’m just trying to explain the ages of the children. If they lived past infancy, there’s got to be a reason.”
Dr. Kreizler nodded to this, and followed Mr. Picton out into the hall. “Sound reasoning. I’m sure Mrs. Hastings can tell you how to contact the housekeeper, Sara. Now, Mr. Picton—concerning this visit of ours. I certainly understand the delicacy of the situation, but I should nonetheless like both Cyrus and Stevie to accompany us. If you don’t mind.”
Mr. Picton stopped at the top of the marble staircase, glancing from Cyrus to the Doctor uncomfortably.
“Dr. Kreizler—Mr. Montrose—I don’t wish to appear rude, but—surely you understand the risk—”
“I do,” the Doctor answered. “And in the unlikely event that Mrs. Hatch’s story should prove true, I shall have a great deal to answer for.”
“Well…” Mr. Picton started down the stairs at what, for him, was a ponderous pace, though it was still faster than the rest of us were moving. “All right, but—” He turned to me and Cyrus. “I warn you both, the situation really is very delicate. I must respect the Westons’ feelings, you see, and Clara’s, too—she and I have become quite good friends, the poor girl—and I would hate for you to make the trip and then be forced to wait in the carriage—”
The Doctor caught up with Mr. Picton and