Omega Dog
wasn’t on duty, that she had finished her shift several hours ago and wouldn’t be back for three days.
    That didn’t necessarily mean she was at home, but it made it more likely. Wouldn’t it be the normal thing to do after a grueling shift at the hospital? To return home for a few hours’ sleep, before doing whatever you had planned for a few days off?
    Next, Royle used his phone to search other departments at the same hospital. He found what he was looking for in the Pediatrics department. On its staff web page, he saw one Dr Robert Murray, with an accompanying photo. The man was around Royle’s age, with approximately similar features. Full head of hair, swept back. Lean build. Spectacles.
    He would do.
    Royle had no idea if Elizabeth Colby was acquainted with Dr Robert Murray. He didn’t see why she would be. They worked in completely different fields, and their hospital was a big one, with a large doctor population. On the other hand, there was always the possibility they’d met. In which case, Royle needed to impersonate somebody whose description he roughly matched.
    He approached the glass entrance doors of the apartment block. In the dimly lit lobby beyond, Royle could see the overweight doorman, who’d presumably recently started the night shift, sitting behind a desk with his feet up, reading a newspaper.
    Royle pushed open the door and went in. The doorman looked up, then did a double take, as if he’d thought at first it was one of the other residents.
    ‘Help you, sir?’
    ‘Good evening,’ said Royle. He’d decided to forgo his usual English accent – it was too conspicuous, especially as he was hoping to be able to leave the doorman alive – and adopt a slightly nasal, Long Island drawl. ‘I’m Dr Robert Murray. I work at the same hospital as Dr Colby. Apartment fourteen? This is for her.’
    Royle had procured a buff folder and some plain printer paper at an office supply store on his way to the apartment, and he held up the stuffed envelope.
    ‘Somebody in her department needed to get this to her urgently tonight,’ he went on. ‘I live nearby, and I offered to drop it off.’
    The doorman – a badge pinned to his lapel said his name was Herman Spooner – glanced at the envelope, then back at Royle. His gaze ran up and down the length of his body, taking in his clothes, his demeanor.
    Eventually Herman held out his hand. ‘Thanks. I’ll make sure she gets it.’
    Royle lifted the packet out of reach with a regretful smile. ‘I’m afraid I have to deliver it to Dr Colby in person.’
    Herman looked doubtful. ‘It’s kinda late.’
    That suggested to Royle that Elizabeth Colby was home.
    ‘Not too late, surely?’ Royle indicated a clock on the wall of the lobby. ‘It’s ten to midnight. And this really does have to be delivered tonight.’ He leaned forward, lowering his voice. ‘It’s confidential medical material.’ Royle assumed the man would be suitably impressed, and he was, frowning and nodding as though he quite understood the importance of it.
    Herman’s hand hovered over the receiver on the phone in front of him. His face was wracked by indecision.
    ‘Gee, I don’t know...’ he muttered.
    Royle was a patient man. He nodded sympathetically, as if he understood the doorman’s dilemma.
    ‘Look,’ he said. ‘You’re obviously highly conscientious at your job. I wish the doorman at my apartment block took such good care of me .’ Herman swelled with pride. ‘But think how grateful Dr Colby will be if she gets this tonight, and knows you understood its importance well enough to tell her about it, even at this late hour.’
    Royle watched Herman’s eyes calculating the situation. He probably had a shy crush on the attractive young doctor, and was looking for ways to impress her.
    ‘Okay,’ he said finally, and, picking up the receiver, he hit a button.
    A woman’s voice answered across the speaker, surprisingly quickly, as if she’d hurried to the

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