“Thank you. Sir Reuben left you at ten o’clock?”
“Then or thereabouts. I did not at first mention the matter as it was so very much Sir Reuben’s wish to keep his visit to me secret, and there was no question of accident in the street or anything of that kind, since he reached home safely at midnight.”
“It would have been, and is, a breach of confidence,” said Sir Julian, “and I only tell you now because Sir Reuben was accidentally seen, and because I would rather tell you in private than have you ferretting round here and questioning my servants, Mr. Parker. You will excuse my frankness.”
“Certainly,” said Parker. “I hold no brief for the pleasantness of my profession, Sir Julian. I am very much obliged to you for telling me this. I might otherwise have wasted valuable time following up a false trail.”
“I am sure I need not ask you, in your turn, to respect this confidence,” said the doctor. “To publish the matter abroad could only harm Sir Reuben and pain his wife, besides placing me in no favourable light with my patients.”
“I promise to keep the thing to myself,” said Parker, “except of course,” he added hastily, “that I must inform my colleague.”
“He will be perfectly discreet, Sir Julian.”
“You need not be afraid of your confidence getting into the records at Scotland Yard.”
“I see that you know how to be discreet, Mr. Parker.”
“We also have our professional etiquette, Sir Julian.”
On returning to Great Ormond Street, Mr. Parker found a wire awaiting him, which said: “Do not trouble to come. All well. Returning tomorrow. Wimsey.”
On returning to the flat just before lunch-time on the following morning, after a few confirmatory researches in Balham and the neighbourhood of Victoria Station, Lord Peter was greeted at the door by Mr. Bunter (who had gone straight home from Waterloo) with a telephone message and a severe and nursemaid-like eye.
“Lady Swaffham rang up, my lord, and said she hoped your lordship had not forgotten you were lunching with her.”
“I have forgotten, Bunter, and I mean to forget. I trust you told her I had succumbed to lethargic encephalitis suddenly, no flowers by request.”
“Lady Swaffham said, my lord, she was counting on you. She met the Duchess of Denver yesterday—”