Dark Room

died.' She shivered suddenly. 'Gawd, he was mad, one of them split personalities. Looked like a little angel when he arrived and turned into a zombie with staring great eyes the minute he got a hard-on. Bloody miracle he hasn't killed someone yet, that's my view.'

Blake agreed with her. 'Any idea how he got here? Car? Did he walk?'

'I don't know. I just wait for the bell to ring and let them in.' She frowned. 'Mind, he did have some car keys with him. I remember him fishing them out of his pocket when he left. He had a really nice jacket on, tight fit, padded shoulders, and he pulled his keys out and held them in his palm while he told me to keep my mouth shut.' She screwed her forehead in concentration. 'There was a black disc on the key ring. It was hanging down between his fingers and I remember staring at it because I didn't want him to think I was staring at him.' Her eyes gleamed suddenly. 'It had an F and an H on it in gold lettering, same initials as mine, which is why I noticed them. You know what? I reckon F.H. are the little sod's initials.'

THE NIGHTINGALE CLINIC-1:30 P.M.

There was a tap on the door and Hilda poked her head inside. 'I'm sorry to bother you, Dr. Protheroe, but there's a Detective Inspector Maddocks, and a Detective Sergeant Fraser here. I've told them you're busy but they say it's too important to wait.'

'Five minutes,' said Alan.

The door opened wide before Hilda could answer, and Maddocks pushed past her into the room. 'It is important, sir, otherwise I wouldn't insist.' He stopped when he noticed Jinx. 'Miss Kingsley.'

Alan frowned angrily. 'Since when did being a policeman give you the right to barge, uninvited, into a doctor's consulting room?'

'I apologize, sir,' said Maddocks, 'but we've already waited fifteen minutes and we do need to talk to you rather urgently.'

Jinx stood up. 'It's all right, Dr. Protheroe. I'll come back later.'

'I'd rather you stayed,' he said, looking up at her with a clear message in his dark eyes. 'I can't help feeling this is very poor psychology.'

'For whom?'' she asked him, with a mischievous glint in her eye. 'Illi intus out illi extra?'

He dredged through his Latin for a translation. The insiders or the outsiders, he decided. 'Oh, illi extra, of course,' he said with a barely perceptible nod towards Maddocks. 'Caput odiosus iam maximus est.'' His odious head is already maximum size, was what he hoped he'd said.

Jinx smiled at him. 'If you recognize that, Dr. Protheroe, then I don't think it's poor psychology at all. It means you hold the advantage. In any case, I really am starving, so with apologies for desertion, I think I'll go and find myself some lunch.' She gave him a brief nod, then slipped past Fraser and Hilda, who were standing irresolutely by the door.

'All right, Hilda, thank you very much.' He gestured towards the sofa. 'Sit down, gentlemen.'

'May I ask what Miss Kingsley said to you?' inquired Maddocks as he took a seat.

'I've no idea, I'm afraid,' said Alan amiably. 'It was all Greek to me.'

'You answered her, sir.'

'I can run that stuff off by the yard,' he said. 'Vos mensa puellarum dixerunt habebat nunc nemo conduxit. I haven't a clue what it means but it always sounds intelligent. What can I do for you?'

Maddocks eyed The Times, which was folded neatly on the coffee table. 'Presumably you've read that?'

'I have.'

'So you know that Mr. Leo Wallader and Miss Meg Harris are dead.'

'Yes.'

Maddocks watched his face closely. 'Does Miss Kingsley know?'

Alan nodded. 'I told her after I read it.'

'What was her reaction, sir?'

He stared the Inspector down. 'She was very shocked.'

'Did you also tell her that the man who attacked you was wielding a sledgehammer?'

Alan thought about that. 'I can't remember,' he said honestly. 'I mentioned the disturbance to all my patients this morning, but I really can't recall whether I gave precise details or not.' He eyed Maddocks with curiosity. 'Why?' he asked. 'Do you see a connection between the assault on me and the deaths of Mr. Wallader and Miss Harris?'

Maddocks shrugged. 'We certainly find it interesting that Miss Kingsley and a sledgehammer appear to be the only common factors between three murders and a vicious assault,' he said bluntly.

'The third murder being Miss Kingsley's first husband?'

'Yes.'

'Well, I'm afraid I don't follow your logic. Let's say, purely for the purposes of the argument, that there is a connection between the murder of Russell Landy and the murder of Mr. Wallader, and that the connection is Miss Kingsley's attachment to both men. Marriage in the first instance and marriage plans in the second. And let's go on to say-again purely for the purposes of argument-that because Mr. Wallader changed his mind and decided to marry Miss Harris instead, someone decided she also had to die. How does the assault on me fit into this hypothetical scenario? I have known Miss Kingsley as a conscious and functioning individual for a week. We have a doctor- patient relationship. I am neither married to her nor engaged to marry her. I have not slept with her, nor do I have plans to sleep with her. I know none of her friends and she knows none of mine. She is a paying guest under my roof who is free to leave whenever she chooses.' His eyes narrowed in speculation. 'Have I missed something that makes this spurious connection even halfway believable?'