A Metropolitan Murder Read Online Free PDF

residents, and a plain washstand. At first, her mother does not notice her, and Clara merely observes her in silence. Finally, however, Agnes sees her visitor.
    â€˜Clarrie,’ she says, greeting her daughter quite flatly, as if she were merely continuing an existing conversation, ‘I’m awful sick. Did you get it?’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜The medicine what the doctor said. Did you get it?’
    â€˜Medicine?’
    â€˜Sorry, I think she means this,’ says a nurse, who appears in the hallway from the adjoining room. ‘I was up with her last night. Carried on something awful, didn’t you, Aggie?’
    Clara looks round at the nurse. The girl, not much older than Clara herself, holds out a brown medicine bottle: ‘ Balley’s Patent Quietener, The Finest Extract of Laudanum’.
    â€˜She’s been downing it like there’s no tomorrow, ain’t you, Aggie? I thought we had a little bottle or two put by, but she’s had it all.’
    â€˜Does it do her good?’ asks Clara.
    â€˜It stops the coughing, helps her sleep, but we can’t get no more this month. Miss Sparrow says we can’t afford it.’
    Agnes White coughs again.
    â€˜Is there anything I can do?’ asks Clara, glancing pityingly at her mother. ‘Do you think I could get some for her myself?’
    â€˜Of this? If you like, if you can afford it. I don’t see how the Missus could say no. Anyhow, I’ll leave you be,’ says the nurse, smiling sympathetically, and then turning back down the corridor, ‘I must see to the others, but I think she’ll be all right. You’re a tough’un, ain’t you Aggie?’
    Clara thanks her, and turns to look at her mother once more.
    â€˜Little madam,’ says Agnes White, watching the nurse depart. ‘She’ll have it herself, that one.’
    â€˜Your medicine? I do not think so.’
    â€˜Mark my words. It’s too late for me, anyhow. It’s my time. I’ll be the next to go.’
    She gestures at the empty bed opposite her own. Anyone who did not know the room would not recognise her meaning, but it is clear enough to her daughter. The bed is freshly made, and the odd little ornaments that belonged to her room-mate, and once sat neatly arranged on the wooden table, have been tidied away. Clara frowns at her mother’s morbid thoughts.
    â€˜I had better go,’ she says. ‘They will be missing me. I just came to see that you are all right.’
    â€˜Will you come again tomorrow?’
    â€˜I suppose so, if I can get away.’
    â€˜I’ll be gone by then, anyhow.’
    â€˜Ma, don’t be ridiculous. The doctor said it ain’t anything.’
    â€˜Doctors don’t know nothing. I’m dying.’
    â€˜I really must go.’
    â€˜Well, Lizzie knows I’m right. She knows it. She agreed with me.’
    â€˜Lizzie?’ says Clara, perplexed.
    â€˜I says, “I’m dying, ain’t I?” and she says, “Yes, poor dear, I fear you is.”’
    â€˜Don’t fret, I’ll be back tomorrow, ma. You will rest up, won’t you?’
    Agnes mutters something in reply, but her daughter does not stay to question her further. Instead, she goes directly downstairs and knocks on Miss Sparrow’s study.
    â€˜Come in.’
    Clara goes into the room, and finds Miss Sparrow at her desk.
    â€˜Ah, Miss White? How do you find your mother?’
    â€˜May I ask something of you, ma’am?’
    â€˜If you wish. If you can be brief. I have work to finish.’
    â€˜It is just something she said, my ma. I know she will talk nonsense, but has she had another visitor?’
    â€˜Yes, indeed. I think your sister came and saw her yesterday.’
    â€˜Lizzie?’
    Philomena Sparrow looks in her notebook, and peers back at her. ‘Yes, Elizabeth. I have a note of it here. Is there something wrong?’
    â€˜It’s just