Free Except the Dying by Maureen Jennings

reading.
    “My estimate is that there was not sufficient amount of the drug to bring about death but certainly enough to have induced unconsciousness. It is diffcult to say when this would have occurred but might have happened anywhere from ten minutes to half an hour after injection. If she lost consciousness on the street, as seems to be the case, she would have been unable to withstand the freezing temperature. The stomach was empty. She had not eaten recently, which would also contribute to the power of the drug. There were what looked like bruises from a hand-grip on her arm as well. My surmise is that she was held forcibly while the injection was administered. Some person or persons is criminally culpable for her death.
    I am your servant, R.D. Moffat, M.D.”
    Murdoch paused and regarded Rhodes. “Perhaps now you can see the need for me to ask questions no matter how impertinent they seem?”
    Before the doctor could respond there was another tap and Crabtree thrust his head through the reed curtain.
    “’Scuse me, sir, but there’s a gentleman out in the hall. A Mr. Shepcote. He won’t wait.”
    Murdoch looked at Rhodes. “Could this be your dinner guest?”
    At that moment the man himself appeared. He wasn’t as tall as the constable but he was as wide, and a heavy raccoon coat made him wider. “Rhodes?”
    He had a booming voice, and Murdoch didn’t miss the almost involuntary flinching that occurred in Dr. Rhodes. Or the look of utter distaste that crossed his face. However, he got to his feet.
    “Shepcote, I’m in here.”
    Crabtree backed away, squeezing past the newcomer, and Shepcote pushed through the curtain into the little cubicle. He ignored Murdoch and addressed Rhodes.
    “Must be true, then? It
is
your maid that’s been found. Harriet said it was her. What in Hades happened to the girl?”
    Murdoch intervened. “Mr. Shepcote, I’m Detective Murdoch, the investigator on the case.”
    The alderman had a red wind-whipped face, thick blond sidewhiskers and prominent blue eyes. He considered Murdoch for a moment, then thrust out his hand.
    “’Pologies for bursting in like this. But it was a shock,seeing as how it was Saturday when I saw the girl alive. I thought I’d better do my duty and get over here. What in Hades happened?” he asked again.
    Murdoch turned to Rhodes. “Would you mind waiting for me outside, Doctor? I’d like to talk to Mr. Shepcote in private for a moment.”
    “Outside? In the h-h-hall?”
    Rhodes was reacting as if Murdoch had suggested he go sit in the privy.
    “Did you come by carriage? There, if you prefer.”
    Rhodes left and Shepcote took the chair, undoing his heavy coat. Murdoch knew who he was. He owned the
Signal
, a popular morning newspaper, and he’d used it as a vehicle to get himself elected to the city council, splashing the front page for a month with his portrait and highly flattering endorsements from local businessmen. As far as Murdoch was concerned the man was welcome to the job.
    Shepcote was watching him with his head turned to a slight angle, as if one eye was sharper than the other.
    “What’s the story? What happened to that poor girl?”
    Murdoch avoided a direct answer. “I understand you dined with Dr. Rhodes on Saturday. Is that where you saw Therese Laporte?”
    “That’s it. She’s their maid, or was, I should say.”
    “How did she seem?”
    “I can’t say I paid much notice. She took my hat and coat and I went into the drawing room.”
    “Did she appear distressed? Ill? Disturbed in any way?”
    Shepcote gave a snort. “Strange question, isn’t it? Like I said, I didn’t pay her any attention. I was there to visit Rhodes and his wife, not to hobnob with the servants.”
    Murdoch kept his head down as he made notes. “I can take that as a no, then, can I, sir?”
    “You can.”
    “I understand you gave Dr. Rhodes a ride in your carriage at the end of the evening. You left him off at his office.”
    “That’s