Raven was immediately wary. He had no desire to discuss anything pertaining to the relationship between them. If she was seeking to explain herself, then it was surely only so that she could feel better about what had happened, and he didn’t see how that would benefit him. He therefore saw no point in any further discourse upon the matter. She had decided to marry another man. He would have to accept it and move on, but that didn’t mean he had to offer her some form of absolution.

‘I cannot imagine there is anything that we need to talk about. Please bring me the next patient.’

‘It’s about Dr Simpson,’ she said.

‘What about him?’

‘There has been a recent difficulty. A patient died under his care. He has been accused of negligence.’

‘By whom? The family? Grieving relatives often wish to apportion blame when in fact the practitioner bears no responsibility for an adverse outcome. I doubt they have grounds for their complaint.’

‘It’s not the family.’

‘Then who?’

‘Dr Matthews Duncan and Professor Miller.’

Raven got up from his chair. ‘I don’t understand. A former assistant and the Professor of Surgery are accusing him of killing a patient. Why?’

‘There is not the time to explain right now. Come to dinner this evening. We can discuss it then.’

Without waiting for a reply, she left the room.

Dinner. With Sarah. And presumably her husband. He would rather be back in Berlin facing the police.

EIGHTEEN

he dishes on the table looked and smelled inviting but Raven had little appetite. How could he eat? He was sitting opposite Sarah’s husband.

Dr Archie Banks was not what he had expected. Or, if he was being honest, not what he had hoped for. He had thought – one of the many explanations he had entertained – that perhaps Dr Banks suffered from some form of physical deformity, a dowager’s hump or a facial disfigurement, to account for his taking a wife from so far outside his own social class. However, this had proven not to be the case.

Archie Banks was, incontrovertibly, an attractive man. He was tall, with a full head of sandy-coloured hair, neatly trimmed moustache, clear complexion and strikingly blue eyes. He was perhaps a little thin, but this could hardly be construed as a defect. He did not gorge his food or consume too much wine – in fact he ate and drank with considerable moderation. He expressed himself well though he said little. He seemed content to let Sarah do most of the talking. For all that Raven had been prepared to detest him, he found Archie to be disappointingly deficient in objectionable traits.