Chapter 58

“Yes, sir!” replied the old housekeeper, departing with the tray.

Nash sighed, placing a hand over his heart. “Since the madam is awake, I shall not trouble you further. Contact me if she feels unwell.”

Walter mirrored his gesture. “Of course.”

Nash and Brian left the villa, Walter personally seeing them off at the manor gates. On the roadside, the old butler poured alcohol onto the tray and ignited it.

Brian felt a pang of regret. The Traditional Medicine Association rarely encountered parasitic bugs. Securing samples for research would have been a significant breakthrough in holistic medicine.

After accompanying them outside, Walter placed a hand over his chest. “This is where we part. I must return to my wife.”

Nash and Brian nodded with smiles.

Just as Walter turned to leave, Nash called, “Mr. Watson.”

“Do you require something else, Dr. Calcraft?” Walter stopped, assuming further instructions regarding his wife.

Nash grinned. “Ensure the princess drinks more hot water…” He then departed gracefully.

Walter watched Nash go, his expression thoughtful.

Queenie slowly descended the stairs, clutching the handrail. Pale and weak, she clutched her stomach, cursing, “Damn you, Nash… I curse you to never find a wife!” She couldn't understand how she’d fallen for the laxative ruse she’d planned for his tea. When had he switched their cups?

Walter entered the living room, noticing Queenie’s distress. He frowned. “Queenie, what’s wrong?”

“I must have made myself ill from the haggis soup,” she replied mournfully, rushing to the first-floor toilet.

Walter’s eyes twitched. “Dr. Calcraft advised more hot water.”

A crash echoed from the toilet.

Outside the manor, Brian’s Porsche awaited, the driver at the door. Brian invited Nash to the pharmacy, but Nash declined, opting for a ride back to his apartment.

In the car, doubt clouded Brian’s eyes. “The Watsons employ numerous experts. Who gave Mrs. Watson the bugs?”

Nash, legs crossed, hand resting on the window, replied, “I suspected a business rival or someone within the family. But Mr. Watson’s desire to destroy the bugs suggests he’s the culprit.”

Brian was shocked. “How… How is that possible? He’s only ever had one wife, a lifelong companion, with mutual respect. How could he do such a treacherous thing?”

Nash smiled slightly. “Is this ‘treacherous’?”

Brian was stunned. “He put his wife in a coma for three years! Isn’t that treacherous?”

Nash smiled, studying Brian silently. Brian’s face flushed under Nash’s enigmatic smile. “I know. Mrs. Watson only fell into a deep sleep. If Mr. Watson truly wished her dead, she’d be dead.” Despite this, Brian remained perplexed. Walter didn't want his wife dead, yet he didn't want her to live fully either. What exactly did he want?

After half an hour, Nash arrived home. A man in a windbreaker stood at the neighborhood gate.