. . .

THE DISPATCH INQUIRY
Chapter Nine

Amy's revelatory statement cast a pall over their conversation, and Sheldon used the excuse of her phone call to leave her alone. After dictating her article, Amy left the library, her mind still churning over her realization.

She stood in the doorway of the drawing room, watching unnoticed. Sheldon wasn't there but everyone else remained. Another foursome was at bridge and a different program was on the wireless, but the general air of quiet indifference prevailed. Any of them could be a killer, yet they all seemed unworried. None of them were sorry to see Ramona dispatched, except on principle that murder was a crime.

Which one of them was lying?

Speaking of lying, something else said this morning had been bothering Amy ever since, and she decided to find the answer herself. She turned away and crossed the hall into the dining room. The curtains were drawn and it was not yet laid for dinner. She headed behind the screen shielding a serving table from view, slipped down the plain passageway just as Stuart had described it, and opened the green baize door she found there. A set of simple stairs greeted her, and, at the bottom, she found herself in a new world.

Having only read about the world of servants and never having experienced it, Amy did not know entirely what to expect. The hallway she found herself in was both wider and brighter than she imagined for a warren of rooms in the basement. It was empty, but there were several people in the kitchen she spied through a large cased opening. It was a flurry of activity and steam; of course, preparations must be underway for tea and the dinner that would follow. She should have considered the timing of her visit, instead of making an impromptu choice.

"May I help you, Miss? I think you're lost."

Amy turned to see an elderly woman, wrapped in a heavy shawl. "Um, no, I'm not lost. I was hoping to speak to Mr. Bloom."

"Mr. Bloom is in the pantry, Miss, polishing for dinner."

"Of course. Indeed. I, um, just wanted some milk. Some warm milk, if I may."

The woman's eyes narrowed. "It isn't done for you to be down here, Miss. Head back upstairs, if you please, and someone will be with you right quick. Next time just ring the bell."

"I apologize. You see, I've never been in a house with servants before, and I'm not certain of the protocol." A half-truth. "I hate to bother anyone. I thought I could just make it myself."

"No, it won't do, Miss. His Lordship is very strict, Miss. No one comes into the kitchen but the staff. It isn't for your kind." But the woman's eye appraised Amy's figure, and she was grateful she was wearing her everyday clothes, not any new finery. "Did you make your jumper yourself? And did you knit the skirt, as well? I've not seen that before."

"I did." Amy smiled and rubbed her waist. Matching jumpers and skirts were very popular last year and she'd spent weeks making her own version. "The cable is a bit wonky here, you can see. I miscounted, but it was too far gone to pull it all out."

There was a pause as Amy felt she was being graded for a test. Then the woman smiled and said, "Brenda Sparks, Miss, housekeeper. Well, you're here now. Come into the office, out of the way."

With a breath of relief, Amy followed behind the housekeeper into a room containing a desk at each end and a compact but cozy seating area for two in front of a small unlit stove. Despite being in the basement, there were two windows on the upper half of the wall, even with the ground outside, but large enough to let in a surprising amount of sun.

"I'll get your milk."

Mrs. Sparks left and Amy studied the room further. There was a charcoal drawing framed above the stove, a soft but very fine rendering of Medford Hall. Amy leaned in to study it, noticing that even the smallest details of the stone carving had been rendered with excellent skill. On the opposite wall, near the door, was a large board covered in papers tacked into a neat grid. Moving to inspect them, she realized they were schedules. Not just of staff, but also of tasks and even rooms. Two pages were entitled "Shuttered" at the top in small but precise print; underneath was a list of rooms with a date next to each, although one had been crossed out.

"His Lordship's work," Mrs. Sparks said as she returned. "He's very particular, he is, about the cleaning. Wants everything neat as a pin, although we only clean the shuttered rooms twice a year now."

Amy took the offered mug of warm milk and sipped it even though it was not her favorite. But she knew the success of any ruse was commitment. "Thank you. I apologize again. Dr. Koothrappali mentioned something about coming down to the kitchen but I must have misunderstood him."

"Dr. Koothrappali? No, no, he's never been down. Like I said, it wouldn't be right."

"Oh, should I leave? Will you get in trouble? You said Lord Cooper is strict."

"Finish your milk, Miss. Here, come sit with me."

It was too hot with the woolen clothes and the enclosed space and the warm milk, but Amy complied anyway. Mrs. Sparks sat in an old rocking chair and took up a knitting bag. Amy smiled as she settled into an outdated but comfortable chair across.

"His Lordship, Miss, is strict like I said, but he's a fair man. Generous, even." Amy started to reply, but Mrs. Sparks kept talking and knitting. "Had all our bedrooms moved down here a few years ago, ripped the whole place down here apart. He said it would be easier to heat and cooler in the summer, and it is. Bigger windows, even a bath between every two. Radiators of our own. All sorts of new things in the kitchen. Never heard of such, but he said it was cleaner, less work. Found out how bad the pain in my bones was, Miss, had the doctor call. Took me off the cleaning upstairs. Even my Billy, he never was good for the house, I thought for sure his Lordship would turn him out when he returned for good, but no, asked him if he'd like to be outside. Billy never been so happy, with the chickens and pigs."

"I didn't realize Lord Cooper raised animals."

"For eggs and meat. Can't see them from here. Of course, it's much smaller than it was in His Lordship's father's day. Just enough for the house now." Mrs. Sparks sighed. "Ah, that you could have seen it back when Her Ladyship was a bride! I was just a maid then. The house was so busy, so many more working than now, all the rooms open with fresh flowers. Grand parties and hunts. No hunts now, not at all. His Lordship don't hold with killing animals for sport, he says, only the food we need. But, my, what a beauty Her Ladyship was, even with her funny way of talking."

"Lord Cooper's mother?" Amy asked. "She was American, yes?"

"Aye. At first, I didn't care for her. Always carrying on about The Lord, like He was a footman she talked to every day over breakfast." Her voice changed in mimicry, "'I asked Jesus to bring me this, maybe Jesus will arrange that.' I didn't like the way religion made her a bit uppity. Charity should be silent and private in my book, but she said The Lord - and the whole village, it seemed - needed to see her works. Too strict, I thought, with the young 'uns in love. But she was a good woman, I came to see." Mrs. Sparks leaned closer in her rocking chair and whispered. "Old Lordship, Miss, he took a bit too much to the drink. And some say the ladies." She sat back. "Her Ladyship, though, she held her head high, always. Never saw a woman care as much for her children as she did. And Master Georgie, God rest his soul, he was a beautiful child."

"Lord Cooper's older brother?"

Mrs. Sparks nodded. "Her Ladyship was up in the nursery all the time. Wasn't seemly, not for a woman like her, I knew. Everyone said it was on account of her being American. Funny ideas, they have. And then the twins: Master Shelly, she called him and so did we, and Missy. It was a happy house at first, but then . . . well."

Amy sipped more of her milk and listened to the creaking of the rocking chair. She suspected that Mrs. Sparks liked to gossip, that she wanted to relate this story and Amy just had to wait, to give her time and space to tell it. And so she did.

"Master Shelly, Miss, he was a difficult child. We all thought he was touched in the head. Never seen tantrums like that in my life, so much rage in a little one. He'd rip his clothes off because he said they scratched, cry at the slightest noise, spin and spin in the hall for no reason. Then he started reading and at least the tantrums stopped. Reading, Miss, even without a governess and so young! He was always telling you what you were doing wrong, what you said that was wrong. People told Her Ladyship to send him away, that he was too difficult. He upset people with that queer way he had of studying them, pointing out all the faults, even ones you thought only you knew. But Her Ladyship wouldn't hear of it. Worked herself to the bone, making him mind, teaching him the piano herself, even. Couldn't get a governess to stay, you see. Even tried the village school though no one ever heard of a Master going there, but the teacher wouldn't have him. Too many questions, he said. Not until Dr. Sturgis."

"Dr. Sturgis?" By now Amy had leaned forward in her chair, eager for more details.

"Scientist, he was. Not a tutor, but he became one, just for Master Shelly. His Ladyship had a building built, just for them. Don't understand it all, but lots of experiments, they called them. My Billy was his age, and they didn't care for each other much, but they sometimes let him watch what they was up to. And then, still a boy, Dr. Sturgis drove him over to Cambridge. Went to classes there, with everyone older than him. Strange way of doing things to my mind, Miss, but it worked.

"His old Lordship, he died not long after. It was a dark time. Master Georgie not yet of age but the heir still. Her Ladyship kept the estate on and Master Shelly even did the figures for her. Not the usual way, but we got by, just waiting for Master Georgie. Not as book smart as Master Shelly, anyone could see that, but he was his father's son. Popular, bright, handsome, good at sport. Everything a lord should be. And then came the war."

"Then came the war," Amy repeated. She had been a child but she remembered rationing food and rolling bandages with her mother. Her father, at least, wasn't sent to the front; he was given a desk job.

"At first, Master Georgie was too young to go and we thought it'd all be over. But he was itching, Miss, wanted to go so bad. Prove he was a man. Left against Her Ladyship's wishes. Always liked automobiles, he did. Took a job as a mechanic, even though he should have been an officer. An ambulance broke down, he said, the tire blew out, he went to fix it. But the bombs and the gas came." The housekeeper paused again, letting the horror unfold in the creaks of her rocking chair. "He weren't ever the same, Miss. Burned, coughing up blood, the tremor in his hands, and the nightmares - oh, Miss, the nightmares! After Cambridge, Master Shelly left for Oxford, living with Dr. Hofstadter, so Her Ladyship worked herself to the bone again. Wouldn't let anyone else nurse him, just like when he was a baby. It took years, Miss, but it was a relief to have him pass. Tweren't nothing on Earth for him anymore." Mrs. Sparks reached up to brush a tear out of her eye.

"Master Shelly - His Lordship he now was - came back after Oxford. Saw everything with new eyes, I think. Set about ordering repairs, shuttered all those empty rooms, said they were a waste of money. Put away the silver. Sold the horses. Had a man come out and teach the tenet farmers how to do new ways, like they hadn't been farming for years. 'Modern' he said, 'streamlined, science.' Never heard such a thing in my life. He changed everything, and, I won't lie, we didn't like it at first. Some here in service, they left. But I saw my Billy was happy now, working with the animals. With fewer rooms, the work was lighter. The tenant farmers, after they grumbled, brought in better crops. Sold livestock at a higher price. So many great houses around us closing up, selling off. But not Medford Hall, Miss. Lord Cooper, he saved this place. I'm just sorry his mother didn't live to see it."

"When did she pass?"

"Not long after His Lordship returned. Missy, she was off and married, lives with her boys down Plymouth way. His Lordship was heart-broken over his mother, Miss, but he poured it all back into the estate. Who would have ever thought that loud little lad would grow up to be such a silent and solidarity man? Glad for Dr. Koothrappali and Dr. Hofstadter, I am. If it weren't for them, no one would come at all. And Miss Penny! It's nice to hear a woman's laugh from time to time. Too quiet around here now." Again, Mrs. Sparks leaned forward to whisper something, "Done left my hopes for a new ladyship by the wayside. His Lordship is a fair man, but a difficult one. It'd take a strong woman, a special woman to accept him. Good thing he's got his sister's boys, so it all stays in the family."

"But there's a house party this weekend," Amy pointed out.

"Aye! Makes me glad, Miss, opening up the bedrooms, getting out the silver. We even had to hire in a whole passel from the village, to clean and serve. The house is busy again, like when I started. Makes my heart happy."

Now it was Amy's turn to lower her voice. "I suppose you heard, then, about Dr. Nowitzki?

"Oh, such a terrible thing! It'll blacken the house again, mark my words. This will be the last house party, I fear."

"I assume the screaming must have terribly frightening. It's a good thing you didn't have to come up, that you didn't see anything."

"Oh, Miss, we didn't hear anything down here. Slept right through it. Mr. Bloom it was who told us later."

Amy squeezed her empty cup. "You didn't hear the screaming?"

"Oh, no. Never hear anything upstairs since His Lordship went and had insulation in the walls. Glad I didn't, not this time."

"Who made the tea, then? There was tea in the drawing room, just after."

"Mr. Bloom, I suppose. He's restless at night, often up and about. He sometimes makes tea for himself. I tell him that if he wouldn't drink so much tea, he'd sleep better, but he just shrugs."

Amy exhaled deeply. She'd come downstairs to learn the truth of one tiny thing but had instead discovered several more unanswerable questions. Mrs. Sparks kept knitting along peacefully, and there seemed to be no artifice in her answers. Plus, she clearly was not the type of woman to keep a secret. "Did you meet her, Dr. Nowitzki?"

"Oh, no, Miss, I never go upstairs now. My knees won't take it. If His Lordship needs me, he comes down, he does. Sits right there and drinks tea with me." She looked up sharply. "He's the only one, mind. But, well . . . no, I hate to speak ill of the dead."

"Mrs. Sparks, I think that's a very kind thing to say, but she was murdered. If there is anything, any small thing you know, I think you should tell the Inspector. I can bring him down here tomorrow if you like."

"That won't be necessary. Just a bit of downstairs gossip, Miss. She was rude to the maid, that's all. Asked about the guests and His Lordship, but Lucy, she's a good one, she wouldn't tell. The lady doctor didn't take it well."

Amy pondered this piece of information, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and tapping her chin with her forefinger as did so. Mrs. Sparks chuckled. "His Lordship does that, too, Miss, when he thinks. Funny to see two people with the same habit."

She quickly lowered her arm. "You said that Lord Cooper hired new staff for the weekend. Do you think any of them could have murdered Dr. Nowitzki?"

"Of course not!" The older woman looked genuinely affronted by the suggestion. "They're all good people from the village. We know our place down here, Miss, and it's not up there. Whatever evil was up there in the drawing room, Miss, it was born there."

Despite the heat of the room and the warm milk, Amy shivered. What a dark statement. But she forced a smile and stood. "I don't want to impose any further on your time. But our conversation was very enlightening. I must say you've shown me another side to Lord Cooper; he sounds almost saintly."

Mrs. Sparks cackled at that. "Oh, don't say I led you astray, Miss! His Lordship is fair, yes, but he can still be that little boy throwing tantrums. There's only one way to do things to his mind, and, oh!, too many have learned down here not to cross him. You have to mind your P's and Q's around him, you know. He can be a hard man; I wish someone would come and soften him up. Dr. Hofstadter and Penny, they try, but what that man needs is a woman who will challenge him. One good fight with the right woman, I think, and he'd be a changed man. Provided she wins, that is."

The idea of such a person made Mrs. Sparks laugh harder, and Amy couldn't help but smile. Then there was a commotion in the hallway and Amy heard someone yell something about tea, and she realized she needed to leave. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Sparks, for the milk and the conversation."

"Of course, dear. Enjoy the house, Miss. So many beautiful rooms, even with the dust covers."

"I will. It is lovely."

Just as she was about to turn away, she pointed to the drawing above the stove instead. "The picture of the house, do you know who did it? It's so well done. I really like it."

"Why, Mr. Bloom himself. He has such a fine hand, doesn't he?" Amy raised her eyebrows. "He even went and studied art in Europe, Miss, before he came here."

"And he became a butler? With talent like that?"

"He had a shop for a while, down in the village, to sell his art, but he could barely make a living in such a small place and then there was a fire, Miss, and he lost everything. The old butler had passed, and His Lordship brought Mr. Bloom on. Strange, him not being in service before, but he's done well. He suits the quiet house."

Amy made her goodbye with a smile and hurried back to the drawing room before she could be missed.

Fortunately, her absence upstairs did not seem noticed. Stuart and a footman came in just behind her with two trolleys laden with a heavy tea, and everyone was soon distracted by the passing of cups and the selecting of cakes and sandwiches.

Once everyone was settled with a cup in hand and a small plate nearby, Sheldon stood and asked for their attention.

"I wish to say a few things to you all, as my guests. Firstly, I am troubled by the tragedy that has occurred here. I do not wish to believe anyone here could do such a thing -" his eyes flicked to Amy "- but nonetheless, I demand as your host that you all cooperate fully with Inspector Kripke's investigation. I do not understand the need for artifice in general, but I especially loath it when it is used to create a false narrative. Your future standing not just as my continued guest in the future but possibly also your standing as a scientist depends upon your honesty."

He paused in an artificial fashion, but Amy had to agree it seemed to have the desired effect. Almost everyone looked down into their teacups. Did Sheldon have the ability to do what he seemed to be implying? Did he have the power to disgrace someone and ruin their career? She supposed he did; she'd seen more than one well-researched article get thrown in the rubbish bin and never mentioned again after a visit from a peer to Mr. Clayton's office.

"On to practical matters," Sheldon resumed. "I'm sure you've all been informed that the Inspector does not wish anyone to leave the estate. Of course, you will all remain as my guests as long as he decrees is necessary, although I shall try to encourage him to be as brisk as possible. Please feel free to use the house and the grounds as you please. I have instructed Mr. Bloom to open the old billiards room for your enjoyment, should the pointless knocking of balls around appeal to you. I am happy to assist anyone in rearranging their travel plans and I will cover any expenses incurred. In addition, I will personally call and speak to any superiors at your respective institutions should your delay cause difficulties there.

"I had hoped to continue our scientific meetings in my laboratory. Science does not blink in the face of death. However, I have been informed that it may be considered in poor taste."

"Thank you to whoever saved me that conversation," Leonard mumbled.

"But please know that if you wish to enjoy the laboratory, I am more than happy to join you. It would be a welcome release from the tedium of pointless small talk. Please just ask. Thank you." Sheldon sat down and picked up his tea.

"How long will we be required to stay?" Bert asked. "I am most eager to return home."

Rajesh turned toward her. "Miss Fowler, do you know?" Then, turning to everyone else, he informed them, "She's typing notes for the Inspector, sits right beside him when he questions you."

A murmur went around the room and Amy frowned. It was not a secret, and surely could not remain unknown, but it felt uncomfortable to have it announced. "I don't know," she replied. "It is true I am typing transcripts of the interviews for the Inspector, but that is all. I am not an investigator myself. Please know that anything you say during the interview will remain confidential. Inspector Kripke does not take me into his confidence." Amy's cursed her gradually flushing face. If not an outright lie, it was a stretch of the truth; Kripke had already shared things with her. "All he told me was that he did not want to rush things."

"Is that not a conflict of interest?" Bernadette asked. "Are you not also writing for the newspaper?"

"I have the same concern. But I brought it up to the Inspector, and he convinced me it could be done. I am not writing about what is said during the interviews. The Inspector will give me a statement daily, and that is all I am basing my article upon. You have my word."

Then Sheldon stood so abruptly that Howard sloshed some tea into his saucer. "Miss Fowler is a guest in my house, and I expect her to be treated as such," Sheldon said, his voice harsh. "I will not have you second-guessing her motives or professional integrity. She is integral to - to the timeliness with which this matter shall be resolved, I am certain of it. If you have any issue with Miss Fowler or her duties, bring them to me directly and I will handle them."

All eyes swiveled from Sheldon's pronouncement to Amy, and this time she knew her face was hot and blotched. Moving slowly, she put her teacup down and tucked her napkin beneath the edge of the saucer. "If you'll excuse me, I need to dress for dinner."

Ignoring the stares at her back, Amy waited until she well past the drawing room door before she ran up the stairs. The current state of her emotions forced the blood through her ears with a rush so that she didn't hear or notice someone following her, and, when a hand reached out to touch her shoulder on the landing of the stairs, she yelped.

"Miss Fowler, I didn't mean to startle you."

"Now is not the time to touch people unexpectedly on the staircase!" she shot back.

"But why did you leave so suddenly. Are you unwell? You are very flushed." Sheldon looked at her with a tilted head, as though he was trying to reason out the expression on her face. She decided to save him the effort.

"No. I'm - I'm embarrassed. And angry! How dare you say all that about me in front of the others?"

"What? It seemed they were accusing you of something, that perhaps they thought it would be acceptable to be unfriendly toward you. I don't want that. Do you?"

"No. No, not at all." Amy squeezed her eyes shut as dreams of scientific conversations with the others seemed to disappear. "But I could have defended myself. I was defending myself! I did not need your help handling anything for me!"

"But why not?" His face hardened, which only emphasized the angle of his jaw. "You yourself have suggested that I 'use my pull' to accomplish what I deem worthy. And I deem you worthy."

"It's not the same! I don't need to be deemed anything by you to make it true. I need to be respected on my own terms, for who I am. For my own mind! Not because you ordered others to act as though they like me." She crossed her arms in front of her. She raised her voice, hoping to make herself heard over his ego. "I am not some useless damsel in distress for you to rescue!"

"I didn't think you were!" Sheldon shouted back. "And I respect you." He leaned forward, his straight, perfect nose pointing toward her, his broad shoulders filling the space. Amy tried to ignore the way the tension in his arms made his biceps flex under his jersey shirts.

"Do you? Or are you collecting me because you like my crossword puzzles, like you collect your magazines? Or am I just useful for you this one weekend, writing about your conference and then helping the Inspector?" She lowered her arms, balling her fists, spitting the words at him.

"Clearly I did not plan for this weekend to unfold in the fashion that it has! I wanted you to be a part of the group, an equal member."

Her heartbeat was thundering in her ears now. "No, you didn't! If you did, I would have been in the laboratory with you yesterday! But now I have been ostracized even further!"

"I already told you it was not my idea to leave you out. I cannot follow the logic of your argument!" Some kind of fervor rolled off of him in waves, almost knocking Amy over. His eyes, often smoldering, were aflame now, burning ever closer to her face.

"You are the lord of this castle! You could have ordered it so, no matter what someone else wanted!" Then Amy lowered her voice and sneered, "As for my argument, if you cannot follow it then perhaps you are not the rational scientist you thought you were."

Sheldon's head snapped back as though she'd slapped him and his nostrils flared. His eyes raked down her figure and then back up, and Amy felt them just as much as she saw them. Why did he do that? She felt exposed by his gaze and his thoughts. Anger pooled in her stomach, and, though she hated herself for it, something more desirous pooled further down.

She turned on her heel, marched to her bedroom, slammed the door, and then tugged at the sleeve and buttons on her jumper until it she could remove it, tossing it in heap on the floor. Wearing only her slip above her skirt, she grabbed the notepad from her deck, with its stiff cardboard backing, and attempted to fan the flames from her skin.

To be continued . . .

Several chemical agents were used as bioweapons during World War I. The most famous is mustard gas, which caused burns and blisters on the skin, eyes, and lungs. Even in so-called "fatal" doses, it took the victims weeks of severe pain to die. In "non-fatal" doses, the victim may have lived several years with painful lung disease and then die of cancer, due to the highly carcinogenic nature of the compound. The term shell shock was coined during World War I for what we would now call combat stress reaction, which is a form of post traumatic stress disorder.

The British Ambulance Committee fell under the British Red Cross during the war. Over two thousand ambulances were dispatched over the course of the war and ninety-four of them were destroyed by the enemy.

Over 800,000 British soldiers died in World War I, but there is no accurate count of how many soldiers and civilians died in the following years from physical and mental injuries they sustained during the fighting.

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