In Like Flynn (Molly Murphy Mysteries, #4)

Theresa shook her head. “Don't send me away, please. I know that once I am locked up, I shall never return.”


“There is no question of locking you up, my sweet.” Barney put a hand on her shoulder. These places are more like sanitariums. You would be restored to good health in notimeat all.”

“I'd go if you come with me,” she said.

“I could come for a couple of weeks, to see you settled in,” Barney said, “but then I have to be back here to return to Washington. I can't abandon my constituents, and I have my reelection campaign to think of.”

“Then I won't go,” Theresa said. “I have faith in Dr. Bimbaum. He and I will work together and he will cure merighthere.”

Barney sighed. ‘You can be very obstinate, Theresa. I wish you would understand that others are trying to do what is bestforyou.’

“Are they?” she asked sweetly.





Twenty-five

Cook had outdone herself with dinner that night. Lobster followed by a soufflé followed by enormous steaks topped with mushrooms and paté, and the meal culminating in a light mixture of brandied fruit and cream. I ate cautiously, as my stomach was still delicate, but the odors were so enticing that I tried a little of each course. I did ask Alice to bring me up a cup of peppermint tea in case I had overdone it. And obviously I had as the sickness returned that very night.

I lay there, heaving and groaning, remembering Clara’s comments about the relative who had wasted away before their eyes. Was I never going to be able to eat proper food again without this sickness recurring? Was I never going to feel well and strongenough to escape from this place?

Dr. Bimbaum was sent to examine me in the morning. He tapped and prodded me all over, then smiled. “I think this is just an un-happy coincidence, my dear Fraulein. You ate shellfish last night, did you not? Most unwise. Shellfish spoils so quickly in this heat and one bite is all it takes. And you were already in a weakened state from your last bout of food poisoning. This time I warn you to be extra careful. Drink plenty of liquids, but take nothing else by mouth until your digestive system has had a chance to recover. I will have the cook make you a good veal bone tea for nourishment later. Apart from that, barley water, remember. Nothing but barley water.” He wagged hisfingerat me seriously.

“Thank you,” I said. “So you don't think it’s anything really serious? I'm not going to waste away and die, am I?”

“What rubbish. A young girl with your healthy constitution. Youll be back on your feet in a few days if you obey my instructions.”

I lay back, too weak even to sip the barley water that sat on my bedside table. I didn't ever recall feeling so bad in my life. My head ached, my stomach felt as if it had been trampled by a herd of bulls. I was hot and clammy all over one minute, then cold and clammy the next. Lights danced in front of my eyes. Everything seemed to have a strange color to it. I couldn't help wondering if they wererightand I really was dying. If that were true, shouldn't somebody be told? I managed to drag myself to the writing desk and scrawl a note to Daniel.

“I am very unwell,” I wrote. “If you couldfindany way to get me out of this place and safely home, I would appreciate it. I don't want to die here.”

Then I addressed it to Mrs. Priscilla OSullivan at Daniel’s address asked the maid to have it taken to the mailrightaway. It would take at least twenty-four hours to reach New York and then another twenty-fourfora response. I just hoped I'd be alive that long.

I had forgotten that the next day was Sunday. The week had passed in a blur of feeling terrible. So it would be more than twenty-four hours before Daniel even received the letter. I stayed away from any kind of nourishment all day on Saturday, as instructed by Dr. Bimbaum. In fact, I felt somewhat comforted by knowing there was a physician in the house, even if he was a specialist in diseases of the mind. By evening I was hungry but re-fused the calves foot jelly that was sent up to me and only took some sips of broth and barley water. Even that didn't seem to agree with me and I had another unpleasant night.

I woke to a clear, cool Sunday morning and I lay listening to the twittering of birds and the distant church bells on the breeze. Theresa and Barney came to see me before they went to church.

“I just wish we knew what to do for you, my dear lamb,” Theresa said. 'Dr. Bimbaum suggested that you see a specialist, and wants us to send you to a hospital, but I don't want you in one of those terrible places.”

“The man is a quack,” Bamey said. “I have little faith in anything he says.”

“Oh no, you're wrong, my dear.” Theresa touched his arm gently. “I really believe he is helping me. He wanted to have another consultation with me today, but of course it wouldn't be right on a Sunday. But tomorrow, maybe, and I think I may allow him to hypnotize me this time.”

“I absolutely forbid it, Theresa,” Bamey said.