“No. Only since I have been in Mr. Clayton’s employ.”
“How long is that?”
“About three months. I first met Doctor Thorpe when he came to attend Mr. Clayton. That was two months ago.”
“What is the matter with Mr. Clayton?” Nick questioned, a bit bluntly. “I did not know he was ill.”
“I cannot say of what his trouble consists,” Garside replied. “He has been losing flesh and feeling quite badly for several weeks.”
“Has he been going to his office?”
“Only part of the time, one or two days each week, and he then remained only during the morning. I think, Mr. Carter, that Doctor Thorpe has found his case a rather mystifying one,” Garside gravely added.
Nick glanced at the physician, then at the strangely afflicted woman who, so far as was known, had been his one companion at the time of the murder.
“Go to the front hall, Chick, and intercept the Claytons when they enter,” Nick abruptly directed. “Detain them in the parlor and break this matter to them as considerately as possible. Don’t let them interrupt me before I have finished my investigations and ended my talk with Mr. Garside.”
“Go ahead. I’ll look after them, Nick,” Chick replied, with a nod, while he withdrew to the hall.