“If there is nothing else, I will be leaving now, Dr. Cameron.”
“Yes, of course, Miss Phipps,” he replied.
“May we see you home, Miss Phipps?” I inquired with a sudden thought. “It is quite late of the afternoon, and one can never be too careful.” The body on the examination table, case in point, I thought.
I caught the look Brodie gave me at the offer to accompany her. She was obviously surprised.
“Thank you, no,” she cordially replied. My flat is only a short way from here. No need to trouble yourselves. Good evening.”
I made a mental note of that.
I caught a glimpse of her through the open doorway to the front office, slipping on a long coat and then tucking an umbrella under her arm.
“We will be leaving as well,” Brodie told the doctor. “I thank ye for yer time.”
Out on the street Brodie waved down a cab for Mr. Brimley, then held back.
“And good evening to ye, Mr. Brimley.”
He nodded. “And you as you well, Mr. Brodie. Miss Forsythe.”
When he had gone, Brodie took me by the arm and pulled me away from the light of the streetlamp and into the shadows just beyond, as the lights in the doctor’s office were extinguished. We waited. In very short order, a coach arrived.
“That is convenient,” I whispered. “Particularly when one is expecting the arrival of someone for an appointment?”
The doctor came out of his office, set the lock on the door, then climbed into the coach.
“And private coach at that,” I commented. “And perhaps time enough to put through a call to someone beforehand?”
“My thoughts as well,” Brodie replied. “It would seem that the good doctor was in somewhat of a hurry,” he added.
“Come along, before the good doctor returns.” He left our hiding place there in the shadows and retraced our steps back to the entrance of the doctor’s office.
He handed me the hand-held light he always carried.
The lock took some effort, but eventually we heard the faint click of the tumblers and he pushed the door open. I stepped past him into Dr. Cameron’s darkened office.
We relied on the hand-held light rather than turn on the electric, so as not to draw suspicion by anyone who passed by.
As I moved about the office in the beam of that light, I asked myself, where might someone dispose of something?
Brodie went to the examination room and closed the door. There was a sudden sliver of light at the bottom of the door as he turned on the electric. I continued the search with the hand-held in the outer office.
There was a table and four chairs, a set of wood cabinets against one wall, and the desk Miss Phipps obviously occupied. Atop the desk was a desk calendar, an ink pen in a holder, and a leather-bound book that turned out to be an appointment book.
Most interesting, there was no appointment shown for that time of the afternoon, in spite of what Doctor Cameron had told us.
I searched the drawers of the desk and found nothing unusual other than the doctor’s stationary, appointment cards, a card file with what appeared to be patient names, many whom I recognized, and other items that might be found in a business office.
After searching all the drawers, I searched under the desk and found the rubbish container. I pulled it out.
“There was nothing in the examination room or in a private room beyond where the doctor might stay over late at night with a patient who needs care.”
“I seem to have found something.” I held out a thick wadded piece of paper.
I unfolded it and the contents spilled out onto the desk—a badly crushed red rose.
“Aye,” Brodie replied. “So ye have. Bring it along… we’re finished here.”
