Benny had left to go do some last minute cleaning so he could get some rest. He'd heard visitors but wasn't sure that had anything to do with him. He only looked up when he heard his boss come in. "Hey boss, what's up?" He blinked looking surprised as the man seemed to have something on his mind.

“Mr. Benjamin!” he said, quickly but quietly in a way that couldn’t help but sound rather conspiring. “I need you to fetch Ruth. She went to that show I skipped out on tonight. Tell her my fiancee is here.”

Mr. Benjamin most likely knew vague but excessively spoken of bits about Mrs. Carrington and ‘their child’, like anyone whose ear remained more than ten minutes in his abode did.

Benny tilted his head and looked confused. "Alright. I'll fetch her right away. "He gave a nod and headed towards the front door, grabbing a jacket on the way. "It's that fancy one right? I remember where it is!" At least he was sure he did. "ANything you want me to tell her to get her to come besides your fiancee is here?" He said before he could disappear into the night.

Hm. Truth be told, if Ruth did not have eyes and a big mouth he would not have dared venture there.

“If she could try to be quiet when she arrives – Sonia seems to be struggling and a doctor is on the way.”

Oh this was serious. He nodded quietly. "Alright, I'll let her know all that. "He said and he hurried out the door.

“Thank you, Mr. Benjamin.”

Best hiring decision he had ever made.

And then Zechariah was in dastardly motion once more, whisking back into the office that saw all too much of him.

He started vigorously making copies of the paperwork Sonia had brought, lest she take them back. He really ought to invest in one of those Kodaks at this rate.

While Benjamin was going to the theatre only to be told no one that matched her name was there, Elijah had managed to find a doctor. He felt Doctor Wells was a better doctor, but this doctor was the closest he could locate and he'd been in Whitby for a while so he was trusted by many and knew what to do.

"Thanks for coming so quickly." Elijah had told the doctor as he knocked on the door again for Zechariah. The constable really hoped that his friend was satisfied with the doctor in question. He had tried hard to find someone useful for his fiance.

Zech opened his mouth wide to indulge his first instinct: yell.

Thankfully, he remembered Sonia was slumbering away whilst he carefully arranged the dominoes about her, and so got up from his office chair instead. He set the stack of just-copied papers under his desk, each sheet separated by a blank page to reduce the smudging of wet ink as he rushed his task. He set Sonia’s folder back, shuffled through, and went to get the door.

“Thank you for coming on such short notice,” he murmured, waving them in. “Come in, come in. The drawing room.”

So they could hear and see if she came down.

He led them to it and took a seat on the couch, facing the doorway.

“I am Zechariah Meijer, and this is my friend, Elijah Crane,” he introduced, quickly, with a gesture to Elijah at his name. “Who do I have the honor of receiving help for my ailing fiancee from?”

Elijah nodded only briefly to Zechariah as he showed the man in. He was almost a full head shorter than him with small glasses and beady eyes. "This is Ichabod Wetherby."

The doctor nodded and shook Zechariah's hand quite firmly. The man had a scrunched up calculating face that placed him somewhere between 40 and 80 years old.

"I was told it was serious, and thus.. here I am. Can you tell me about the poor woman's condition so I may know what I am walking in on?"

Dr. Wetherby was a man of much to take in. Was he his father’s age? His grandfather’s age? How did one man contain so many uncanny multitudes, at such a little height? While Zechariah had been being edged toward the middle of school photographs since there were boys tall enough to justify a back row, it was a rare pleasure circumstance in which he got to dwarf a man by a full head.

Did Elijah feel the same way about him? Hm. Better not to contemplate that. He steepled his hands between his knees.

“Of course. Thank you for your time, Dr. Wetherby. My fiancee has recently received news of … bearing twins,” he looked a little sheepish, “and has not been faring well since. She is sleeping, right now, but came in a … questionable state. In a hood, like some sort of paranoid criminal instead of my betrothed. Erratic decisions that are both unsound and unlike her.”