Dr. Bowden had a modest office in that modest building. The waiting room was small, and there was one woman behind the sliding glass panel. Her workstation was messy, almost chaotic. She seemed to be the receptionist, the scheduler, and the insurance clerk, all rolled into one. Her short hair was dyed a deep red, and she wore black glasses that tilted up at the outer corners. Maybe she was aiming for retro.

“Trying to make a fashion statement,” Manfred muttered, I hoped too low for her to hear.

“Excuse me,” I said, when she didn’t look up from her computer. She had to know we were standing right there, since there was only one other person in the waiting room, a man in his sixties who was extremely thin. He was reading a Field and Stream magazine.

“Excuse me,” I said again, more sharply than I’d intended.

“Oh, sorry,” the receptionist said. She took an earpiece from her ear. “I didn’t hear you.”

“We’d like to see the doctor,” I said.

“Do you have an appointment? Do you have a referral?”

“No,” I said, and smiled.

Nonplussed, she looked past my shoulder at Manfred, as if hoping to find someone who could explain the phenomenon of a person trying to see a doctor without an appointment.

“I’m with her,” he said helpfully. “We both want to see the doctor. It’s about a personal matter.”

“You’re not the daughter-in-law—are you?” The red-headed woman was full of delighted, horrified anticipation.

“Sorry, no.” I hated to burst her bubble.

“He won’t see you,” she said. She’d switched to a confiding tone. Maybe it was Manfred’s facial decoration that had won her heart. She was obviously a woman who liked strong style. “He’s very busy.”

I looked around at the one patient, who was trying to appear oblivious to the interesting conversation we were having. “That’s not the impression I get,” I told her.

“I’ll check, though,” she said, as though I hadn’t spoken. “What’s your name, please?”

I told her. Before she could ask, I said, “This is my friend Manfred Bernardo.”

“What’s this in reference to?”

She’d never understand the long version. “It’s about a case he had around eight years ago,” I said. “We want to discuss his findings with him.”

“I’ll tell him,” she said, and rose to her feet. “You’ll have to wait your turn.”

We did, and when the thin man had left and no one had taken his place in the waiting room, we waited some more.