I've said too much already. Looks like I'll have to make that side trip to Tangier.
I checked into the Rembrandt and took a taxi to the Marshan. It was 3:00 P.M. when I rang the doctor's bell. He was a long time coming to the door, and was not pleased to see me.
'I'm sorry to disturb you during the siesta hour, Doctor, but I'm only in town for a short stay and it's rather important....'
He was not altogether mollified but he led me into his office.
'Doctor Peterson, I have been retained by the heirs of Peter Winkler to investigate the circumstances of his death. The fact that he was found unconscious by the side of a road has led them to speculate that there might be some question of accidental death. That would mean double indemnity on the insurance.'
'No question whatsoever. There wasn't a mark on him—except for the rash, that is. Well, his pockets were turned inside out, but what do you expect in a place like this?'
'You're quite sure that he died of scarlet fever?'
'Quite sure. A classical case. I think that the fever may have caused brain damage and that is why he didn't respond to antibiotics. Cerebral hemorrhage may have been a contributory case....'
'There was bleeding?'
'Yes ... from the nose and mouth.'
'And this couldn't have been a concussion?'
'Absolutely no sign of concussion.'
'Was he delirious at any time?'
'Yes. For some hours.'
'Did he say anything? Anything that might indicate he had been attacked?'
'It was gibberish in some foreign language. I administered morphine to quiet him.'
'I'm sure you did the right thing, Doctor, and I will report to his heirs that there is nothing to support a claim of accidental death. That is your considered opinion?'
'It is. He died of scarlet fever and/or complications attendant on scarlet fever.'
I thanked him and left. I had some more questions, but I was sure he couldn't or wouldn't answer them. I went back to the hotel and did some work on the recorder.
At seven o'clock I walked over to the English Pub. There was a young Arab behind the bar whom I recognized as one of Peter's boyfriends. Evidently he had inherited the business. I showed him Jerry's picture.
'Oh yes. Mister Jerry. Peter like him very much. Give him free drinks. He never make out though. Boy just lead him on.'
I asked about Peter's death.
'Very sad. Peter alone in house. Tell me he want to rest few days.'
'Did he seem sick?'
'Not sick. He just look tired. Mister Jerry gone to Marrakesh and I think Peter a little sad.'
I could have checked hospitals in Marrakesh for scarlet fever cases, but I knew already what I needed to know. I knew why Peter hadn't responded to antibiotics. He didn't have scarlet fever. He had a virus infection.
The stranger
The next ay the five boys signed on with
