Tristan picked up his bag, thanked the policeman, and led the poor injured lady into the room. The last time he had been in this room was when he had evaluated that thief, Anthony Rowe. At least this time he could be of some use as a doctor, rather than become a puppet in the games of an emotionally immature person who lied and played tricks, Tristan thought.

Tristan came out of the room some five minutes later, with a grim face. He closed the door to give Mrs. Carrington privacy and made his way over to the desk. "Sir, you might want to take pictures and other evidence," he said in a low voice. "Her shoulder is dislocated, and there are marks on her arm where he gripped her..."