? ? ?
OSCAR MARONEY SHOWED up just as the girls were clearing the last of the dessert dishes and was more than happy to be talked into a serving of pie. For some reason Jack was always surprised at how easily Oscar won over women of all ages. Every face around the table lit up at the sight of him.
His partner understood women; he knew when to tease and when to pay a compliment and when neither would be a good idea, and then he listened, and focused all his attention. Jack watched him weave his usual magic, wondering in another part of his mind what trouble had brought him to their door. Because it was Oscar’s habit to spend Monday nights playing cards, and only something very important would make him miss his chance to fleece his brothers-in-law.
Jack waited until he had finished pie and coffee, and suggested that if he wanted a cigar, they should step out into the garden.
“Why don’t you show me this wonder of a house you bought for your new bride,” Oscar countered. “Let’s bring her along too. I’d like to get her opinion on something.”
So whatever had brought Oscar to the door was something that couldn’t be discussed in front of women and children. He wondered if Anna understood she had been paid a compliment when Oscar excluded her from that group.
? ? ?
AS FAR AS Anna was concerned, the furniture Jack’s parents had sent from Greenwood rendered the house habitable, and she would have moved in immediately if the idea hadn’t scandalized every other female within ten miles.
“Not until there are curtains on the windows,” Mrs. Lee said, Bambina and Celestina nodding in agreement behind her.
“There are curtains in the bedroom,” Anna said. “It’s not like I’m planning on romping through the rest of the house in a state of undress.”
Bambina’s mouth quirked. “Maybe you aren’t.”
That made Anna draw up in surprise and then retreat until she could ask Jack some pointed questions.
Now she sat at the kitchen table with Jack and Oscar and tried not to fidget. To her own surprise it was difficult not to get up and start sorting through boxes of dishes that had yet to be unpacked. She would have to write to Sophie about the unanticipated streak of domesticity she had uncovered in herself. Cap would weep with laughter at the idea of Anna Savard’s sudden urge to explore the complexities of bed linens and tea services.
Jack was saying, “Anna, Oscar is asking a question.”
“Sorry.” She made more of an effort to focus on Oscar, who had unfolded a piece of paper and smoothed it out on the table. “What’s that?”
“You remember the unidentified woman from late last week,” Jack said. “It turns out she’s from Buffalo and was just in town for a few days.”
Looking across the table, Anna realized she was familiar with the kind of document Oscar had brought.
“Is that the postmortem?”
Oscar slid it across the table toward her. “If you wouldn’t mind having a look, your thoughts on it would be much appreciated.”
“What happened?” Anna asked.
“Read it first,” Jack said. “Then you tell us.”
? ? ?
JACK WATCHED HER eyes moving back and forth, her expression calm, her hands spread flat on the table to either side of the report.
She looked up. “What is it you want to know?”
“Whatever strikes you as important.”
She didn’t like vague requests, but he saw she was trying. With a shift of the shoulders she turned her attention back to the report and scanned it again. “The postmortem was done by Nicholas Lambert. He was on the Campbell jury, did you realize? High coloring, dark hair and beard? He’s a forensics specialist, and very good at what he does. This report is far better than the one written for Janine Campbell.”
Her gaze shifted from Jack to Oscar and back again. “Is there some connection between the two women?”
“That’s what we are wondering about,” Oscar said. “Could you go through the report with us, and start from the beginning?”
“It’s very straightforward,” Anna said. “Healthy woman of about twenty-five, no external signs of violence. Evidence of at least one and probably more than one birth.”
“Where does it say that?” Jack leaned toward her and she pointed to the relevant bit of writing.
“‘Striae gravidarum’ is Latin for stretch marks.”
Oscar’s expression made it clear he wasn’t familiar with the phrase, and Jack assumed that his own face did the same.