Jennifer checked the analog clock radio. It took her a moment to figure out the time, as the little hand and the big hand were not too different in size.

“I was hoping we could have breakfast together.”

“That would be fine.”

“Could it be soon? I am exhausted. And can I impose on you to come here to the Imperial? I’m afraid I look the wreck that I feel.”

“I’d be happy to come. I can be ready in less than a half-hour. How far is the Imperial hotel from the Amal Palace? Do you know?”

“It’s very close. It’s just up the Janpath.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know the Janpath.”

“It’s very close. Maybe five minutes in a taxi.”

“Then I should be able to be there close to eight,” Jennifer said, throwing back the covers and swinging her legs off the bed.

“I’ll meet you in the breakfast room. When you come through the front door, continue straight across the lobby. The breakfast room is to the right.”

“I’ll see you in a half-hour,” Jennifer said.

After hanging up, Jennifer put herself in high gear. As a medical student, she’d perfected the process of getting ready. Early on she decided that the aggravation of hurrying was worth enduring for fifteen minutes more sleep.

She was pleased that Rita Lucas was willing to see her. Jennifer was eager to learn about this third American medical tourist death and exactly how much it resembled the first two.

During the process of showering and throwing on her clothes, she thought about the rest of the day. She wanted to steer clear of the Queen Victoria Hospital so as not to be further aggravated by the pesky case manager. That meant she had to think of something to do for the better part of the morning, lunch, the afternoon, and dinner to avoid obsessing about the frustration of not being able to move forward on her grandmother’s situation until Laurie arrived. As for the late evening, she knew exactly what she was doing and looked forward with great zeal to heading out to the airport.

As she stepped out of her room carrying one of her guidebooks, she felt proud of herself. It was only seven-fifty-three, possibly a new record for her. On the way down in the elevator she went back to thinking about the day’s plans. She had decided to contact Lucinda Benfatti for lunch or dinner or both. In the morning, provided breakfast didn’t drag on, she thought she’d sightsee, even though she wasn’t much of a sightseer. She thought it would be a shame to have traveled as far as she had without seeing something of the city. In the afternoon she thought she’d work out and then just lounge around the pool, a rare treat.