Mystery Cases of Letitia Carberry, Tish. Mary Roberts Rinehart
don't believe in fooling with things you don't know anything about."
"Briggs," Tommy said suddenly, "you say the body lay in the ward almost an hour before removal. Why was that?"
"Because," Briggs replied significantly, "there was no nurse in that ward when he died, or for nearly an hour after. The ward was in charge of a convalescent typhoid named Bates."
"Why was that?" Tommy demanded. But Briggs only shrugged his shoulders, with his good eye fixed about four inches bdow Tommy's chin.
When he got no answer, "Bring Bates here," Tommy said sharply, and during the interval until the two men appeared he walked somberly up and down, his face thoughtful.
Bates was hardly prepossessing. He shuffled in in a pair of carpet-slippers much too large, a pair of faded trousers, and a garment that was evidently his nightshirt with the tail tucked in. But Bates was shrewd if unshaven, as we found out.
"Bates," said Tommy, "you are a patient in K ward?"
"Yes, sir."
"You helped to look after Johnson, the man who died night before last?"
"Sometimes—when the nurses were busy."
"Have you heard anything about—of what happened after his death?"
Bates smiled.
"There's been a good bit of talk going around, sir," he said. "He'd got the ward worked up some—talking about coming back after he'd chipped in. One of the men claims to have seen him looking in the window near his bed last night, and there's a story about his corpse being found hanging—but that's ridiculous, sir."
"It's true. Bates."
Bates' jaw dropped. "Oh, no, sir. Surely not!" he said, and changed color.
"Now, Bates," Tommy said, "we are men of sense, you and I. We know Johnson didn't do it himself, don't we?"
"Yes, sir." Not as convinced as he might have been.
"Then it was done for him." "Yes, sir."
"Presumably by somebody in this house."
"Yes, sir."
"Bates, was any one missing from your ward during either last night or the night before, that you know of?"
Bates thought "No, sir," he said. "I don't sleep much; that's my trouble, insomnia. I can hear a kitten stir in my ward—not, of course, that we're liable to kittens, sir. Night before last I was up and dressed all night, wandering around, and last night, as you know, I sat up with that railroad case. The boy was out of his head."
"Then, either night, no patient could have stolen out from K ward into the house and been absent for any length of time without your knowing it?"
"It's hardly possible," Bates said. "Mr. Briggs or I would know for sure, sir."
"Do you help in the other wards on the men's floor?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are there any delirious patients?"
"None able to stand or walk about."
"I see," Tommy said thoughtfully, "And now. Bates, is it correct that Miss Durand, the night nurse, left her ward for fifty minutes, knowing that Johnson was dying?"
"Fifty-five minutes, sir." Bates' shrewd eyes said more than his words.
It was, possibly, for night supper?" That's at two o'clock." Bates knew a good bit about the hospital, and enjoyed showing his knowledge.
You have no idea why she left?" No, sir. Miss Smith came to the door, and they went away together. Miss Smith looked upset and nervous, as if she'd been crying—if you'll excuse my saying so, sir."
"Did you notice in which direction they went?"
"They went down-stairs. When they came back Miss Smith was looking more cheerful, and she had a bundle in her hand."
"What sort of a bundle?"
"Darkish. It might have been clothing. Miss Durand was frightened when she found Johnson had died, and she asked me not to say she had been away."
"Thanks, Bates. You'd better go back now," said Tommy, "and Bates, if you hear or see anything that strikes you as curious, let me know, will you?"
Bates promised and flapped out, with Briggs behind him. Tommy called Briggs back. "Briggs," he said, "I have asked the superintendent to let me put on a few guards to-night. This thing has gone beyond a joke. Mr. Harrison will give us the scrubbers, Frank, from the elevator and two assistants from the laundry. The internes have volunteered, also, that makes eleven; with you and myself, thirteen."
"Thirteen!" said Briggs. "Would you mind making it fourteen, Doctor?"
Tommy looked surprised.
"Briggs!" he said. "Surely you—" Then he took a good look at Briggs' pasty face and nodded. "All right," he said. "We can have Hicks from the ambulance. And just a word," he said, as Briggs made for the door. "We are not talking, Briggs. Most of these men are watching for a thief. Do you understand? And I'd be glad to have your help in placing them where they'll do the most good."
Chapter X.
An Ape and some Guinea-Pigs
Miss Lewis came in a few minutes after Briggs had gone, and, closing the door behind her, looked at Tommy.
"Miss Blake is conscious," she said. "Temperature only ninety-nine, pulse a hundred and forty."
"Good!" Tommy said heartily. It was evident to us all how relieved he was. "But I don't like the pulse." He was brushing his hair back with Tish's brush. "She's had a terrific shock of some sort."
"Yes, sir," said Miss Lewis, still with her back to the door.
Tommy leaned over and kissed Tish's cheek. He was delighted at the mere prospect of seeing the Little Nurse, and showed it. "Now, try to be good until I come back, both of you," he said. "All right, Miss Lewis, we'll have a look at our patient in the dormitory."
Miss Lewis looked flushed and uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry, Doctor," she said. "Miss—Miss Blake doesn't—she has asked for Doctor Will-son instead."
"What!" said Tommy, and turned a dark red.
"She's asked for Doctor Willson," repeated Miss Lewis. "There's no mistake. I've been coaxing her for ten minutes."
"She's still delirious," Tish snapped. "And it is not necessary to coax people to retain my nephew's professional services. Miss Lewis."
"Why, that's all right," Tommy said with affected cheerfulness. "Willson's a fine chap —she couldn't do better."
"Fiddle!" Tish was angry. "Who is Wilson, anyhow?"
"Big fellow, dark eyes—very distinguished looking man," said Tommy humbly. Tommy is handsome, if being straight and slim and young count for anything, but I daresay one could hardly call him distinguished. Tish and I differ about this. "Good gracious. Aunt Tish, the girl ought to have the privilege of selecting her own medical adviser."
"Humph!"
"Suppose you go back to the dormitory. Miss Lewis," Tommy said, "and say to Miss— Miss Blake that she's made a wise choice, and I'll send Willson to her as soon as he comes in. And ask her if she will let me see her for a moment, not professionally."
Miss Lewis looked doubtful, but she went. When she came back, in five minutes, she was evidently irritated, and her cap was more than ever on one ear.
"She's sitting on the side of the bed, half dressed," she grumbled, "and she says she won't see anybody."
"Then she doesn't want—Willson?" asked Tommy, looking relieved.
"No.