‘I couldn’t agree more, Joyce. And I happen to know a chap who’s skilled at analysing typewriting.’ Philip turned to Augusta. ‘It should be easy to prove the three letters were written on the same typewriter. But what about the typewriter itself? How do we find that?’
‘I have an idea,’ she said. ‘Let’s meet at an address on Farringdon Road tomorrow morning.’
‘Farringdon Road?’ said Joyce.
‘It’s one possible location for the typewriter.’
Chapter 59
‘Are you sure about this, Augusta?’ Philip surveyed the building towering over them on Farringdon Road. A cool breeze whipped along the street and a train rumbled out of Farringdon railway station behind them.
‘Fairly sure.’ She tried not to doubt herself. She had done her research, and she had to hope everything would go smoothly.
Detective Sergeant Joyce joined them with two police constables in tow. ‘I’ve brought a couple of chaps with me from Clerkenwell station,’ he said. ‘Just in case we’re onto something here.’
‘I should hope we’re onto something!’ said Philip. ‘I can’t say I want to walk into this building and make a fool of myself.’
Augusta looked up at the name on the building: Hodgson. ‘We are onto something,’ she said. ‘Let’s go inside.’
Joyce told the two constables to wait outside for a signal from him and they stepped into the building.
They were kept waiting in the reception area before a clerk showed them to a plush meeting room. Five minutes later, a tall, smartly dressed, grey-haired man entered the room.
‘Mr Fisher!’ he said. ‘And Mrs Peel! This is a surprise!’
‘And I’m Detective Sergeant Joyce.’
Mr Ramsden’s smile faded. ‘Detective?’ He turned to Philip. ‘What’s this about?’
‘Let’s take a seat, Mr Ramsden. Would you like to begin, Augusta?’
‘Yes.’ She took a pile of papers from her handbag and shuffled them about as she prepared herself.
‘Will this be quick?’ asked Mr Ramsden. ‘I have an appointment shortly.’
Augusta took in a breath and began. ‘Have you ever heard of Daniel Collins, Mr Ramsden?’
He blinked, but his face otherwise remained impassive. ‘No.’ He steepled his fingers on the table and gave her a steely look.
‘Daniel Collins was jailed for five years in 1912 for mistakenly poisoning Stephen Allen.’
‘How careless of him.’
‘At the time of the poisoning, Mr Collins was calling himself Dr Jackson. Have you ever heard of him, Mr Ramsden?’
‘No.’
‘You’ve not heard of Jackson’s Blood Purifier?’
‘Oh yes, I’ve heard of that.’
‘It was a remedy which Dr Jackson made a lot of money from. Until he poisoned someone with a new remedy he was developing.’
‘By accident.’
‘Of course. Have you ever heard of Alexander Miller, Mr Ramsden?’
‘No. It seems I haven’t heard of any of these people you’re talking about, Mrs Peel. I think you could be wasting my time.’
‘Alexander Miller went missing in 1911,’ said Augusta. ‘At the time of his disappearance, he had been taking regular doses of Dr Jackson’s newly developed remedy. It turns out Mr Allen wasn’t the only person who was poisoned by Dr Jackson. Mr Miller was also poisoned by him. And, unfortunately for Mr Miller, he didn’t survive.’
‘Was his body ever found?’
‘No.’
‘So how can you say he died?’
‘It’s quite obvious he died. He collapsed in Dr Jackson’s laboratory and was never seen again.’
‘And how do you know this?’
‘There was a witness, Mr Ramsden.’ She noticed his jaw tighten. ‘A witness who remained silent for ten years because Dr Jackson had threatened her. And she wasn’t the only person Dr Jackson threatened. When news of a long-lost letter about Alexander Miller was published in a newspaper, the recipient of the letter was also threatened. Louisa Bradshaw, the sister of John Gibson. He had sent her the letter describing the disappearance of his friend.
‘It seems the publication of the news about the long-lost letter spurned Dr Jackson to embark on a new campaign of intimidation. He didn’t want anyone speculating on what could have happened to Alexander Miller. He had already got rid of someone who tried too hard to find him. And that was Miller’s friend, John Gibson. Dr Jackson must have grown worried that Gibson’s efforts would lead him to the truth. Dr Jackson couldn’t allow that to happen because it would have ended his lucrative business. He must have wanted John Gibson silenced. That’s why he was pushed beneath a train at Baker Street station.’
‘How do you know it wasn’t an accident?’ asked Mr Ramsden.
‘There was quite a debate about it at his inquest. The witnesses couldn’t agree on what had happened. But I think it’s most likely Gibson was pushed. Dr Jackson must have been relieved once Mr Gibson was out of the way. Unfortunately for him, he went on to poison someone else though, and the gentleman lived to tell the tale. The law caught up with Dr Jackson and he stood trial for poisoning Stephen Allen. After five years in prison, people must have assumed that was the end of him.
