“Sir Frank Tarleton?—I am told that you wish to see me on urgent business. I am sorry that you have been kept waiting, but I had gone out for a walk. Won’t you sit down?”
She included me in the invitation by a slight, distant bow, as she seated herself facing us.
“It is very good of you to see me, Lady Violet.—Dr. Cassilis is my assistant.” Another distant bow. “I have been called in as a physician in the case of another medical man who had the honour to include you among his patients, I believe—Dr. Weathered.”
A bow in the affirmative, still colder, if possible.
“I regret to have to inform you that Dr. Weathered has died—of heart failure.”
A little gasp, natural enough in the circumstances. A gasp of relief in my ears, relief at hearing the death described as natural. A gasp of surprise, I could only hope, in the keen ears of my chief.
“Dr. Weathered’s death was rather sudden. It is desirable for the sake of his family to dispense with an inquest if possible, but it has been necessary to make some inquiries into his affairs, and I have had to go through his appointment-book, the book in which he entered the names of his patients who came to see him, you understand.”
“I understand.” Just a tremor, immediately subdued.
“Naturally your name appears in the book among others. And it happens to be one of several that have numbers attached to them, as if for purposes of identification. If you know, or can suggest, the reason for that, I shall be very much obliged by your telling me.”
Violet straightened herself up and spoke very distinctly. It was clear to me that she had prepared her answer carefully.