The Bakers had friends in Switzerland.
Doctor Baker came back into the room with a large book and a file-case in his hands.
He carried them over to the table.
I've brought the collection for last year,' he said.
'I haven't been through them yet since we moved.
I only gave up practice six months ago you know.'
He opened the book and began turning the pages.
I watched him fascinated.
He would find it of course.
It was only a question of moments now, of seconds.
'The seventh, eighth, tenth,' he murmured, 'nothing here.
The twelfth did you say?
At two o'clock?
Ah!'
We none of us moved.
We all watched his face.
'I saw a Mrs Danvers on the twelfth at two o'clock,' he said.
'Danny?
What on earth…" began Favell, but Maxim cut him short.
'She gave a wrong name, of course,' he said.
"That was obvious from the first.
Do you remember the visit now, Doctor Baker?'
But Doctor Baker was already searching his files.
I saw his fingers delve into the pocket marked with D.
He found it almost at once.
He glanced down rapidly at his handwriting.
'Yes,' he said slowly.
'Yes, Mrs Danvers. I remember now.'
'Tall, slim, dark, very handsome?' said Colonel Julyan quietly.
'Yes,' said Doctor Baker.
'Yes.'
He read through the files, and then replaced them in the case.
'Of course,' he said, glancing at Maxim, 'this is unprofessional you know?
We treat patients as though they were in the confessional.
But your wife is dead, and I quite understand the circumstances are exceptional.
You want to know if I can suggest any motive why your wife should have taken her life?
I think I can.
The woman who called herself Mrs Danvers was very seriously ill.'
He paused.
He looked at every one of us in turn.
'I remember her perfectly well,' he said, and he turned back to the files again.
'She came to me for the first time a week previously to the date you mentioned.
She complained of certain symptoms, and I took some X-rays of her.
The second visit was to find out the result of those X-rays.
The photographs are not here, but I have the details written down.
I remember her standing in my consulting-room and holding out her hand for the photographs.
"I want to know the truth," she said;
"I don't want soft words and a bedside manner.
If I'm for it, you can tell me right away." ' He paused, he glanced down at the files once again.
I waited, waited.