Dr. Harmon said, “The mind is a curious thing, Mr. Rutledge. It can create demons where there are none and remember events that never happened, and it can cause the body to fall ill.” He smiled. “My son is sick whenever he has an appointment with the dentist. Quite sick, with a fever. That’s a simple example, but it illustrates the power of the mind.”

Rutledge knew all too well how powerful the mind was, and how, once it had fixed itself on a course, altering it was nearly impossible. He wondered what the good doctor would make of Hamish.

He asked, “Would this lead Mr. Teller to harm himself?”

“That’s unfortunately a strong possibility. I think he willed himself to die. And when that didn’t happen, he came to the conclusion that other measures would be necessary. I’d keep a watch on the river, if I were you.”

Rutledge thanked him and left. Sergeant Biggin was just coming in the clinic door as he was walking out, and he stopped to speak to Rutledge.

“We’ve found no sign of him, sir. I’ve had men searching the streets for the past hour or more and we’re circulating Mr. Teller’s description and that of the clothing he was wearing as well. Mrs. Teller was kind enough to help us there. You wouldn’t think that a man who had been as ill as Mr. Teller was said to be could disappear so quickly. We’ve even had a man walking through the rooms at the museum, on the unlikely chance that he wandered in there.”

“Are you also watching the river?”

“I’ve put out the word, sir. But that’s some distance away. Do you think he could have got that far, ill and on his own?”

“I think he could do whatever he put his mind to. Keep me informed, Biggin. There is nothing more I can do here. Did you meet the rest of the family?”

“Yes, sir, I did. They were angry. Well, you’d expect that. But it seemed to me they were as angry with Teller as they were with the clinic. Though that’s an odd thing to say.”

“All the same, I’ll keep it in mind.”

The next morning, Rutledge returned early to the clinic. He found Mrs. Teller in Matron’s small sitting room, and again she was alone except for Matron. She was on her feet and asking him for news as soon as he stepped through the door, but he had none to give her. He found himself apologizing, as if it were his fault that her husband hadn’t been found.

To distract her, he asked if her family was with her this morning.

Jenny Teller sighed and shook her head.

“They came back close to eight o’clock and they weren’t at all satisfied that the police were doing everything they could to find Walter. I told them you’d come to see me, but they were still upset. And then this morning, Amy—she’s Edwin’s wife—came to tell me that Edwin and Peter weren’t convinced that Walter is still in London. And so they have each gone to look for Walter where they felt he might be. I know that Susannah, Peter’s wife, went to Cornwall, because his family often summered there when he was a boy. I think it’s nonsense, but they’re as worried as I am.” She turned away, so that Rutledge couldn’t see her face. “I asked Amy if she could stay here with me. But she wanted to drive down to Witch Hazel Farm on the off chance that Walter might have decided to go home to heal. He knows I’m here in London—he wouldn’t go to Essex, knowing that.”