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“Monitoring medication is a rather grand term,” Miss Hoffman replied, with only the
slightest flush of discomfort. “But Adelaide can certainly manage to take spoon out a powder from a
bottle and place it in a cup.”
“So could a maid or a cook,” Geraldine said.
“As I believe I adequately explained this morning,” Miss Hoffman said evenly, “the
households of the Raj are often built more on ceremony than practicality. Of course any one could
place the medication on the tray. It is even possible that Mrs. Weaver, horror of all horrors, might
open her own bottle and spoon out her own powder. But I believe a couple like the Weavers who sit,
stand, and lie on ceremony, would prefer the notion that the household nurse, no matter how badly
trained she might be, performed this task.”
“We need to talk to Adelaide,” Davy said. “Where is she?”
Miss Hoffman pretended to look about. “I cannot say.”
“No one ever seems to quite know where Adelaide is,” Emma said. “She did not return
for luncheon or even for tea?”
“Adelaide is a mercurial creature,” Miss Hoffman answered, “and I place no restraints
on her. But I assure you this afternoon, just as I tried to assure you this morning, talking to her will
not yield the bounty of information that you seem to expect. Adelaide’s limitations, her….profound
disinterest in the events of the world around her….they all assure that, even though she may have been
the one to put the medicine in the cup and then on the tray, she knew nothing about what sort of
medication it was or even when Mrs. Weaver would ultimately swallow the draught. The preparation
was simply one of her routine tasks.”
“Adelaide has returned to the Weaver household at least twice,” Davy said. “I know, for
I have seen her there twice myself.”
“Do not waste too much time reading anything into that, Detective,” Miss Hoffman said
with an airy wave of her hand. “Are you even a Detective? You seem so young. But to answer your
question, I am not sure Adelaide fully grasps that the household has changed and her services are no
longer needed.”
“I am an officer and not a detective,” Davy said evenly. “Might Adelaide feel
compelled to return to that she might feed a pet bird?”
A small hesitation on the part of Miss Hoffman. “She might. Now, is there anything else
you would like to ask these good women, or might we all return to the responsibilities of our day?”
It was an earnest attempt to change the subject, but it did not work.
“Might you send one of your students to look for Adelaide now?” Davy said, carrying on
precisely as if the woman had not spoken. “I would like to ask her some questions regarding Mrs.
Weaver’s medication and she must be fingerprinted as well.”
“No, I shall not,” said Miss Hoffman. “I can hardly unleash a group of young girls on the
harsh streets of Bombay in a pointless search for a woman who is both frightened and skilled at
hiding. In fact, Adelaide has the ability to make herself all but invisible when she wishes. It is an
almost animalistic skill, one I sometimes envy. I assure you that Adelaide will resurface only when
she is ready, and not a moment before.”
“So you see her rather like a dog,” Emma said. “She will come along home when she
gets hungry, is that your point?”
Miss Hoffman did not answer, but merely smiled. Despite the affectations of the hand
flapping, she was by far the most composed member of the circle. Geraldine was in a state of such
agitation that Emma was afraid she would make herself ill in the heat or, at the very least, demand that