He eyed me queerly and pleaded sadly:
"We are not going to go through all this again, are we, dear?"
"Go through what and I am asking you for the last time: where is Isabel, your wife?"
He sighed and collapsed on the bed, depressing it considerably as he held onto one of the bedposts:
"I will call Dr. Milton. Promise me you won't do anything stupid until he has had the chance to see you."
"I am going to call the police on you. Isabel announces her intention to disinherit you and the next morning she is mysteriously gone. Dead, for all I know!"
"Isabel is alive and well, I give you my word." - Said her husband and, for some reason, I believed him. He sounded sincere.
"Then why can't I see her?"
"You can, once Dr. Milton arrives. Is that too much to ask? He will be here in less than half an hour. Edward already apprised him of the situation last night."
"Last night?" - I felt confused - "What situation? And who's Dr. Milton?"