He looked up at Concordia. “When did this happen?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I saw him walking this way not more than half an hour ago.”
“Should we summon an ambulance?” Maynard asked.
After a careful examination, the doctor shook his head and put his instruments back in the bag. “His skull is fractured. There was nothing more we could have done.”
“Was?” Concordia repeated.
“The man is dead.” The doctor stood and brushed off the dirt from his knees. “Have you called the police? This was no accident.”
Maynard gave Concordia a startled glance. Concordia nodded, though the sight of the dead newspaperman chilled her. The gardener would never leave a shovel lying upon the ground to be tripped over, and it was too much of a coincidence that Rosen had been anxious to pass along inf
