ThePerfectPoison
FORTY-THREE
“IT WAS VERY KIND OF YOU TO CALL ON ME TODAY, Miss Bromley,” Ira Ellerbeck said.
“I came as soon as I got your message,” Lucinda said. “I was so very sorry to learn of your grave illness, sir.”
They were seated in the oppressive shadows of Ellerbeck’s large library. All but one of the high Palladian windows was covered with heavy, blue velvet curtains, effectively shutting out most of the early afternoon sunlight. A pot of tea had been brought in shortly after Lucinda arrived.
“I appreciate your concern,” Ellerbeck said. He sat behind his desk, as though he needed the large piece of furniture to support him. He sipped his tea and lowered the cup. “I confess I have not been up to receiving visitors in recent months but I fear the end is not far off now. I wanted to say farewell to some of my closest friends and associates.”
“I am honored that you included me, sir.”
“I could hardly overlook the daughter of a man who was one of my dearest acquaintances. In spite of what happened, I want you to know that I always respected your father.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“I confess that, in addition to wanting to say goodbye, I asked you here today in hopes of obtaining your advice. The doctors have told me that there is nothing more that can be done. Indeed, my own talent confirms that opinion. I do not expect a cure, of course.”
“I understand,” she said.
“Although you and I share similar talents, there are some distinct differences. It occurred to me that you might be able to suggest some therapeutic herb or plant that might alleviate the pain.”
“I will do my best. Please describe your symptoms.”
“They are both psychical and physical. My senses are failing quickly, Miss Bromley. They have become erratic and unreliable. I suffer from terrifying hallucinations and disturbing dreams. My nerves are shattered. In addition, I am experiencing severe headaches.”
“I assume you have tried morphine or some other opium concoction?”
“Bah. You know how it is when it comes to the milk of the poppy. The quantity required to bring relief from the physical symptoms puts me into a deep sleep.” He grimaced. “That is when the dreams come. I do not wish to end my life in a nightmare. I am seeking an alternative.”
She glanced down at the satchel that she had placed on the carpet near her feet. Then she raised her eyes to meet his again. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I have anything that will be effective in easing your particular symptoms.”
“I was afraid of that. Well, it was worth a try.”
“May I pour you another cup of tea?” she asked, getting to her feet.
“Thank you, my dear. Forgive me for not rising. I find myself quite exhausted today.”
“Please don’t concern yourself.” She crossed to the desk, picked up his cup and saucer and carried it back to the tea tray. “Do you have any notion of what brought on your unusual illness? Was it preceded by a severe fever or an infection of some kind?”
“No. The first symptoms appeared several months ago but I was able to keep them somewhat under control for a time. Gradually they have worsened, however. The doctors are at a loss and so am I. But enough of such depressing conversation, my dear. One hears that you have become a close friend of Mr. Caleb Jones.”
She carried the cup and saucer back to the desk. “The fact that you have been housebound has obviously not kept you from hearing the latest news.”
“Gossip has a way of filtering in everywhere, does it not?”
She returned to her chair, sat down and picked up her own cup. “Indeed it does.”
“Dare I presume on my old friendship with your father to ask if Mr. Jones has honorable intentions?”
“Mr. Jones is a very honorable man,” she said politely.
Ellerbeck’s mouth tightened. He appeared to hesitate. Then he heaved a deep sigh. “Forgive me, my dear, but if you are entertaining a marriage offer from Jones, I feel I must bring up a very unpleasant subject.”
“What is that, sir?”
“There have been rumors over the years that there is a streak of instability on the Jones’s side of the family.”
“Perhaps we should change the subject,” she said coolly.
Ellerbeck flushed. “Yes, of course. I realize it is not my place to offer you paternal advice.”
“Especially in light of the fact that you were involved in my father’s murder as well as the murders of Gordon Woodhall and my fiancé.”
Ellerbeck started so violently that tea splashed on the desk. He stared at her. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”
“I am quite certain that you are also connected to the attempt that was recently made on Mr. Jones’s life. Perhaps you would care to discuss that, instead?”
“You astonish me, Miss Bromley.”
“Why bother to lie. You are dying, after all.”
“Yes. You are quite right, my dear. Quite right.”
“I know that you are taking Hulsey’s latest version of the formula. I sensed it in your aura the moment I walked into this room. It is deadly.”
“You really do possess a most amazing talent.”
She made a slight dismissing movement with her ungloved hand. “It is a poison. I am very good at detecting poisons.”
Ellerbeck snorted derisively. He reached into his pocket and removed a small gold snuffbox. Green stones glittered on top. He set the box on the desk and studied it as though it were a strange artifact from another realm.
“Hulsey gave me what he claimed was the new, more stable version yesterday afternoon,” he said. “I took three doses and was quite pleased. It seemed so much stronger than the earlier versions. It was not until the fourth dose last night that I realized what the bastard had done to me. To all of us, I suspect.”
“He poisoned Thaxter and Norcross, as well, if that is what you mean. They are both dead.”
“I thought as much. I estimate that I have a day or two left at most.”
“The original version of the drug was a poison, too. You said your symptoms came on several months ago.”
“The deterioration from the first version was much slower.” He clenched his hand into a fist. “I had time. Now I have none.”
“If you knew the founder’s drug was dangerous, why did you take it?”
He fixed her with a bleak look. “All great scientific advances involve some risk. You cannot begin to imagine the power of the drug. One is infused with the most thrilling sensations. My talent rose far beyond its previous limits. I could see colors in the botanical world that I had never before been able to observe. I could comprehend aspects of plant life that had always been just beyond my reach. I could have accomplished great things, Miss Bromley.”
“If it had not been for the unfortunate fact that the drug was killing you,” she concluded.
“It transpired that I am allergic to it.”
“In other words, it was killing you faster than it will kill the others in the Order.”
“Much faster. Most will have years. Time enough to produce a more stable version of the drug. But I soon realized that I had only months.”
“If you are severely allergic to the formula, how did you survive this long?”
“I used my talent to buy myself some time while Hulsey worked to improve the drug. Yesterday he gave me the results of his latest research.” Ellerbeck’s mouth twisted. “The bastard assured me that it would soon alleviate all of the allergic symptoms. Instead, it will put me into a coffin within forty-eight hours. He has murdered me as surely as I sit here.”
“Why did you ask me to come here today?”
“I refuse to die until I have had my revenge on you, Miss Bromley.”
“You blame me for what has happened?”
“Oh, yes, Miss Bromley, I blame you.”
He pushed himself to his feet with great effort. She saw the gun in his hand.
“Do you intend to shoot me here in your library?” she asked, rising slowly. “That will be somewhat messy and rather difficult to explain to the police, will it not?”
“I no longer give a damn about the police, Miss Bromley. It is too late. You have destroyed everything. But I will have my vengeance on you if it is the last thing I do on this earth. I am feeling quite weak, however. I need some of my special tonic. Come with me. You are very likely the only other person in London who can truly appreciate what I have created.”
She did not move.
He jerked the gun toward the conservatory and then pointed it at her again. “Open the door, Miss Bromley. Do it now or I will shoot you where you stand and to hell with the mess on the carpet.”
She crossed the room and opened the door to the conservatory. She was braced for the impact but the currents of twisted, malevolent energies struck her senses with such force that she swayed. She grabbed the doorframe, instinctively trying to close down her senses.
Ellerbeck came up behind her and shoved her into the glass-walled chamber of botanical horrors.
“Welcome to my private hell, Miss Bromley.”
Still off balance, she stumbled forward and nearly went down. She reeled, barely managing to catch hold of the edge of a workbench. Her skirts twisted treacherously around her ankles.
The sound of a key in a lock sent another shiver through her. Ellerbeck had sealed them inside the conservatory. She looked around, amazed and horrified.
Malformed plants and darkly luminous greenery filled the glass-and-iron chamber. She recognized an array of bizarre hybrids, cultivars and varieties of dozens of dangerous and poisonous species. Other specimens were so distorted that it was impossible to identify them. When she opened her senses very cautiously, she could detect traces of the original plants but the disturbing energies the strange new creations produced iced her blood.
“What have you done here, Mr. Ellerbeck?” she whispered, stunned. “Nothing is right in this conservatory.”
“Nature does not recognize right or wrong, Miss Bromley. Only that which survives.”
“You have distorted everything in here.”
“After I developed the allergy to the founder’s drug, I discovered that the atmosphere in this chamber could alleviate the worst of the side effects. Indeed, it has been all that has sustained me for the past few months. I have been unable to leave it for more than an hour or two at most. I was forced to sleep in here. In effect, this conservatory became my prison.”
“Why did you do this to these plants?”
“This conservatory contains my life’s work. Years ago I devoted myself to psychical plant research in an effort to find a cure for my son’s insanity. What you see here is the result.”
“Did you ever find the cure?” she asked, the botanist in her unable to resist.
“No, Miss Bromley, I failed in that, as well. And now Allister is dead.”
Understanding slammed through her. “Allister Norcross was your son?”
He nodded bleakly. “Yes, Miss Bromley.”
“Tell me why you murdered my father and his partner.”
Ellerbeck took out a handkerchief and mopped his sweating brow. “Because they found out that I was the person who had taken one of the plants that you brought back from the Amazon.”
“Mr. Jones was right,” she said. “It all goes back to the last expedition.”
Wyszukiwarka
Podobne podstrony:
quin?81101129081 oeb?9 r1Blac?80440337935 oeb?8 r1de Soto Pieniadz kredyt i cykle R1Pala85515839 oeb toc r1mari?81440608889 oeb?9 r1Pala85515839 oeb?6 r1Thom?80553904765 oeb?4 r1knig?81440601187 oeb fm3 r1Bear53901087 oeb qts r1byer?81101110454 oeb?2 r1knig?81440601187 oeb?0 r1Lab2 4 R1 lab24anon?81101003909 oeb?6 r1Bear53901826 oeb p03 r1byer?81101086520 oeb?0 r1knig?81440601187 oeb?1 r1R1 1schw?81101134702 oeb fm1 r1więcej podobnych podstron