“I don’t know, ma’am. I heard someone goin’ up the stairs a while ago. Might have been him.”
“You haven’t seen him?”
“No ma’am. I come in just now to ask if you would be a-needin’ of me any more this evenin’. I feel sort of tired like, after—”
“I know, Riggs. You haven’t had much rest for the last three nights. You may go.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
We ascended the stairs, the steps of which creaked weirdly under our weight. I could readily understand why Riggs had been able to hear them from the service quarters.
At the top was a long hallway with a door at one end, a window at the other, and two doors on either side.
Miss Van Loan opened the first door at our right, and we entered a bedroom daintily furnished in cane and ivory, with light blue hangings and spreads.
“This is my room,” she informed me. “We have four bedrooms, each with a private bath and clothes closet.”
I looked into the bath and clothes closet, but both were untenanted. Then we passed to the next room. This was furnished in burled walnut, with light green the prevailing color. No sign of the doctor here. The next room, which was just across the hall, was furnished in massive oak, with a taupe and maroon color scheme. Somehow it seemed thoroughly a man’s room.