Mrs. Jeffries Takes the Stage Read Online Free

the lungs, sir, and some new tests he’d read about. I really couldn’t follow it all that well. Frankly, I don’t think old Potter could either, but he pretended he knew what Bosworth was talkin’ about. Didn’t seem to believe it though; you know how Potter is, scoffs at anything he don’t understand.” He grinned again. “Finally, after they’d argued for a few minutes, Potter stomped off in a huff. I told Dr. Bosworth to go ahead and do whatever tests he needed to do. I hope that’s all right, sir?”
    “Of course it is,” Witherspoon said. “Even if Dr. Bosworth’s ideas aren’t readily accepted by the courts or the medical establishment, I’ve found his insights to be quite useful in the past. If he thinks it’s approximately forty-eight hours since the man was killed…” He broke off and frowned in concentration. “That would make it…”
    “Saturday night, sir,” Mrs. Jeffries finished.
    “Right. Was he reported missing from his home?” Witherspoon asked Barnes.
    “I don’t know, sir. There hasn’t been much time to check. Dr. Bosworth had a word with the Chief Inspector and he sent me along here to fetch you.”
    “So I’m getting this one,” Witherspoon said thoughtfully.
    “Probably, sir. If it turns out that Bosworth is right and Hinchley’s death wasn’t an accident. The Chief didn’t say much, only to fetch you along to the hospital mortuary and get the inquiry started. Just between you and me, sir, with the papers full of that awful murder in Whitechapel, I expect the Chief isn’t taking any chances. He’ll want an investigation whether Hinchley was really murdered or not.”
    “Do we have an address for the victim?” Witherspoon asked.
    Barnes dug his notebook out of his pocket and flipped it open. “Number fourteen, Avenue Road. St. John’s Wood.”
    The inspector absently popped a bit of toast into his mouth.
    “I haven’t been round there, sir,” Barnes continued. “I came here straight away.”
    “Not to worry, Constable. We’ll call round Mr. Hinchley’s residence as soon as we’ve been to the mortuary. Which hospital is it?”
    “St. Thomas’s, sir. That’s why Bosworth was on hand.”
    Witherspoon tossed down his serviette and stood up. “Right then. Let’s get cracking.”
    “Will you be home for lunch, sir?” Mrs. Jeffries asked.
    “No, I don’t think so. If young Dr. Bosworth is correct, we’ve a murder to solve.”
    Mrs. Jeffries walked her employer and Barnes to the door. As they reached the front door, she glanced back down the hall and saw Betsy dart out of the dining room, walk casually to the top of the back stairs and then disappear in the blink of an eye. Good girl, the housekeeper thought. She had no doubt that Betsy had gone to tell the others. They had a murder to solve. Thank goodness.
    And this time, she was going to make very sure that they solved it properly.
    “Good day, Mrs. Jeffries,” Witherspoon called over his shoulder as he closed the front door. “Don’t be alarmed if I’m home later than usual.”
    “Yes, sir. I’ll have Mrs. Goodge do a cold supper, sir.” She smiled broadly. With any luck, he wouldn’t be home for hours.
    She closed the door, took a deep breath and then ran for the back stairs. Coming into the kitchen she wasn’tsurprised to see Mrs. Goodge hurriedly clearing up the last of the breakfast dishes and Betsy heading for the back door.
    “I’m just off to get Smythe,” Betsy said. “He’s at Howard’s playing about with those ruddy horses. I’ve sent Wiggins for Luty Belle and Hatchet. I hope that’s all right.”
    “That’s fine, Betsy,” Mrs. Jeffries replied. “I’ll help Mrs. Goodge clear up, and by the time everyone’s returned we’ll have tea ready. But do hurry.”
    The two women worked quickly and efficiently. By the time they’d washed up and brewed a large pot of tea, Smythe and Betsy were back.
    “Betsy says we’ve got a murder,” the coachman said.
    “I said