A Donation of Murder by Felicity Young Read Free Book Online

screened off cubicle.
    â€˜So, we have just over a month to raise five hundred and fifty pounds,’ Daphne said to Dody.
    Dody nodded. ‘Do you think you might be able to find out the Duchess’s whereabouts?
    â€˜I can try — but you know how slow the postal service is on the continent. Even if she did have the means to help us, depending where she is living we might not see the money for months, and we’d be closed down by then.’
    Dody stretched out her hand to the curtained screen. ‘I agree, but it’s our only hope. We have to get the money from somewhere.’
    She pushed the screen back and affected a brighter tone of voice. ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Doyle, are you feeling any better?’
    â€˜I still feel a bit off-colour, Doctor. I haven’t managed to get dressed yet, I’m afraid. I can’t bear the thought of leaving this warm bed.’
    â€˜That’s all right, I’ll help you,’ Dody said, reaching for the bundle of clothes Nurse Little had left at the bottom of the bed. ‘Mrs Doyle, this is my friend, Nurse Daphne Hamilton.’
    The women exchanged polite greetings. Daphne took a thermometer from her apron pocket, shook it and popped it under Miss Doyle’s tongue. While she was waiting for the temperature to set, she took her pulse. ‘Fifty two,’ she said to Dody. She took the thermometer from her patient’s mouth. ‘And her temperature’s ninety-five degrees, Doctor.’
    â€˜Still a bit cool for my liking,’ Dody said as she and Daphne helped the striking red-headed woman to dress. ‘I’m going to take you to my townhouse to recuperate. It’ll be much more conducive to your recovery than here. Our spare room has a roaring fire and our maid is very handy with the bed warmer.’
    Margaret Doyle looked stunned. ‘That’s truly generous, Doctor, very kind. But I couldn’t impose myself on you like that.’
    â€˜It’s no imposition, I promise you. Besides, have you anywhere else to go?’
    â€˜I was planning on going back to my house in Dalston.’
    â€˜To John, who beats you? You are in no condition to withstand a beating.’
    â€˜I exaggerated. He hit me once — and he apologised to me afterwards with a bunch of carnations.’
    â€˜How kind of him,’ Daphne said, her expression suggesting a sip of sour milk.
    â€˜Daphne,’ said Dody, ‘I think you should see how Mrs Smith is faring, don’t you?’

Chapter Five
    Collar turned up, scarf tight against the stinging sleet, Pike followed the blood trail east until he came across two frustrated policemen standing by the side of Commercial Road. The thoroughfare was chaotic with people, horse-drawn carriages and motorcars trying to escape the weather. The road was a river of slush and ground-up horse dung, and the policemen appeared to be debating whether to cross or not.
    â€˜The trail’s cold, sir,’ one of the officers told Pike when he approached. ‘Lost in the muck of the road. He could have gone in any direction.’
    Pike drove a fist into his hand and looked across the street. As if at a magic signal, pandemonium broke out. A motorcar slewed from one side of the icy road to the other, sliding into the covered back of a goods wagon pulled by a pair of spavined horses. The nags reared and the wagon driver jumped from his seat to calm them. A motorised omnibus missed the wagoner by a matter of inches. As the bus swerved, it hit the rear of the motorcar. The driver let off a string of obscenities, and threw a crank at the bus, missing it and hitting a bicycle ridden by a delivery boy. The boy wobbled but maintained his balance. Not so a box of apples resting on the handlebars, which tipped off, spilling fruit across the road. A horse stopped dead in its tracks in order to reach the tasty bonus and pitched its rider onto the street.
    Pike had played piano accompaniment for a