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“Certainly, sir. I showed her Mrs. Farraline’s medicine chest so she would know what to do.”
There was a sharp snap of attention in the court again. Three jurors who had relaxed suddenly sat upright. Someone in the gallery gave a little squeak and was instantly criticized.
“You showed her the medicine chest, Miss McDermot?”
“Aye, I did. I couldn’t know she was going to poison the poor soul!” There was anguish in her voice and her face looked on the brink of tears.
“Of course not. Miss McDermot,” Gilfeather said soothingly. “No one blames you for your quite i
“Aye-I did.”
“Thank you. That is all, Miss McDermot.”
She made as if to leave, turning in the box to fumble her way down again.
Argyll rose to his feet.
“No… Miss McDermot. A few minutes of your time, if you please!”
She gasped, blushed scarlet, and turned back to face him, chin high, eyes terrified.
He smiled at her, and it only made it worse. She looked about to faint away.
“Miss McDermot,” he began softly, his voice like the growl of a sleeping bear. “Did you show Miss Latterly your mistress’s jewels?”
“Of course not! I’m not…” She stared at him wildly.
“Not a foolish woman,” he finished for her. “No, I had not thought you were. I imagine you would not dream of showing your mistress’s jewels to a relative stranger, or indeed to anyone. On the contrary, you would be most discreet about them, would you not?”
Gilfeather half rose. “My lord…”
“Yes, Mr. Gilfeather,” the judge said sharply. “I know what you are going to say. Mr. Argyll, you are leading the witness. Ask questions if you please, do not assume answers.”
“I apologize, my lord,” Argyll said with outward humility. “Now, Miss McDermot, please enlighten the court as to the duties of a good lady’s maid. What would your mistress have said had you shown her jewels, or any other of her valuable possessions, to anyone outside the family? Did she give you instructions on this matter?”
“No sir. It wouldn’t be necessary. No servant would do such a thing and expect to keep her position.”
“So you are quite certain you did not show the pearl brooch, or any other piece, to Miss Latterly?”
“Aye, I’m absolutely positive I did not The mistress kept her jewelry in a case in her bedroom, not in the dressing room, sir. And I didn’t have a key to it.”
“Quite so. Thank you. I had not doubted you, Miss McDermot. I imagine the Farralines can afford to have the best servants in Edinburgh, and would not keep anyone who disregarded so basic a rule.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Now, this medicine cabinet. Please think very carefully, Miss McDermot How many vials does this cabinet hold?”
‘Twelve sir,” she said, staring at him warily.
“And each one is a separate and complete dose.”
“Aye sir, it is.”
“How are they laid out, Miss McDermot?”
“In two rows of six.”
“Side by side, one above the other, in two trays? Please describe it for us,” he instructed.
“One above the other, in the same tray… like… like two halves of a book… not like drawers,” she replied. Something of her anxiety seemed to lessen.
“I see. A very precise description. Do you have new vials each time the medicine is prescribed?”
“Oh no. That would be most wasteful. They are glass, with a stopper in. It is quite airtight.”
“I commend your thrift. So the apothecary refills the vials when the medicine is obtained?”
“Yes sir.”
“Especially for traveling?”
“Yes.”
“What about when Mrs. Farraline is at home?”
“It still comes from the apothecary separately, sir. It has to be very exact, or it could be”-she swallowed hard- “fatal, sir. But we have to add the liquid to make it palatable-at least…”
“I see, yes, that is quite clear. And this was a new supply, a full dozen vials for Mrs. Farraline to travel with?”
“Aye sir. If she were gone more than six days then it would be simple enough to get an apothecary in London to provide more.”
“A very practical arrangement. She took the prescription with her, of course?”
“Aye, sir.”
“So there was no anxiety if she ran out?”
“N-no…”
Gilfeather stirred restlessly in his seat. He was impatient, and had his adversary been a lesser man, he would have dismissed the line of questioning as time-wasting.
“Mr. Argyll,” the judge said irritably, “have you some purpose in mind? If you have, it is more than time you arrived at it.”
“Yes, my lord,” Argyll said smoothly. He turned back to the witness stand. “Miss McDermot, would it have mattered had you been a little hasty in your care for Mrs. Farraline and, instead of sending her off with a full complement of vials, used one to give her her morning dose on the day she traveled, rather than make one up. I simply ask if it would have mattered, not if you did so.”
She stared at him as if she had suddenly seen a snake.
“Miss McDermot?”
“You must answer,” the judge informed her.
She swallowed. “N-no. No sir, it would not really have mattered.”
“It would not have placed her in any danger?”
“No sir. None at all.”
“I see.” He smiled at her as if he were totally satisfied with the answer. “Thank you, Miss McDermot. That is all.”
Gilfeather rose rapidly. There was a stir of excitement around the room like a ripple of wind through a cornfield. Gilfeather opened his mouth.
Miss McDermot stared at him.
Gilfeather looked at Argyll.
Argyll’s smile did not change in the slightest.
Rathbone sat with his hands clenched so hard his nails scarred his palms. Would Gilfeather dare to ask if she had used the first vial? If she admitted it, his case was damaged, severely damaged. Rathbone held his breath.
Gilfeather did not dare. She might have used it She might not have the nerve to deny it on oath. He sat down again.
There was a sigh of breath around the room, a rustle of fabric as everyone relaxed, disappointed. One juror swore under his breath, mouthing the words.
Miss McDermot had to be assisted at the bottom of the steps when she stumbled in sheer unbearable relief.
Argyll’s lips still curved in the same smile.
Rathbone offered up a prayer of thanks.
Gilfeather’s next witness was the doctor whom Co
“Dr. Ormorod,” he began smoothly, as soon as the doctor’s credentials had been thoroughly established, “you were called by Mr. Co
“Yes sir, it is. At half past ten in the morning of October the seventh, of this year of our Lord,” the doctor replied.
“Did you respond immediately?”
“No sir. I was in attendance upon a child who was seriously ill with whooping cough. I had been informed that Mrs. Farraline was deceased. I saw no urgency.”
There was a nervous giggle in the gallery. One of the jurors, a large man with a mane of white hair, scowled at the offender.
“Was any reason given why you should be sent for, Dr. Ormorod?” Gilfeather asked. “It was a somewhat unusual request, was it not?”
“Not really, sir. I imagined at the time that my main duty would be to attend Mrs. Murdoch. The shock of bereavement can in itself be a cause for medical concern.”
“Yes… I see. And what did you find when you reached Mrs. Murdoch’s residence?”
“Mrs. Murdoch, poor soul, in a state of considerable distress, which was most natural, but the cause of it was not entirely what I had expected.” The doctor became increasingly sensible that he was the focus of all attention. He straightened up even farther and raised his chin, measuring his words like an actor delivering a great monologue. “She was, of course, deeply grieved by her mother’s passing, but she was also most troubled by the possible ma