“No one invited her to this party,” I said. “Send Bob back here. We want to question him.”
“He can’t leave his mother’s bedside. I won’t be responsible for consequences if—”
“No one wants you to be responsible for anything,” Bertha Cool said. “You couldn’t kill that woman with a sledge hammer, and you know it. She’s putting on an act.”
Dr. Parkerdale said, “Madam, like all laymen, you’re prone to judge from external appearances. I’m telling you, her blood pressure has reached a dangerous point.”
“Let it come to a boil,” Bertha said. “It’ll do her good.”
Ashbury said to the doctor, “You think she’s in a dangerous physical condition?”
“Very critical,” the doctor said.
“Yes,” Bertha Cool snorted. “So critical that he leaves his patient to strut down the hall and try to make evidence for a divorce court.”
The significance of that remark soaked into Dr. Parkerdale’s mind. He turned wordlessly and walked back down the corridor to Mrs. Ashbury’s room. He knocked. The door was unlocked, opened, and locked again.
Bertha Cool kicked my door closed.