“Mr.

Winslow is resting quietly and doesn’t need an injection before evening.”

Dr.

Wallace’s hand stopped inside the briefcase.

He looked down at the crisp green bills lying on his medical chart, then turned his head toward the hallway to see if the kitchen maid was nearby.

He cleared his throat twice again, picked up the cash, and folded it neatly into his vest pocket.

“I’ll be back at five o’clock to re-evaluate his condition,” Dr.