Turn for the Worse

Trying to be inconspicuous, for hours on end, even pushes my limits. Walking back and forth, reading the same damn newspaper, being pleasant to all who passes by, got old real fast. By 3 p.m., I believed Warren had left by the back and was off who knows where, maybe even watching me. I made my way around the back of the building to discover washing waving in the breeze and the back door, which I was sure got used for his clever exit. He must have realized I was following him and decided to give me a taste of nasty medicine. Well, I can play that game. Finding a child in the alley, I told him who to watch out for and paid a small fee with the promise of more when he reported back to me at 6 p.m.; Warren would come home by then.
I resumed my plodding, my path well worn, on the opposite side of the street from the rooming house. Traffic got heavy about 5 p.m., so I crossed the road, careful of the dreaded horse carts, and began my bold walk close to my quarries home. A carriage stopped and a grey-haired elderly man emerged, just then a woman came out of the house in an agitated state, greeted the man and I noticed he carried a Dr.'s bag. Someone has taken ill.  As I approached I caught part of their conversation, before they entered the house; "Deathly ill, poor dear, been in bed all day and such a nice policeman... Yes, yes, show me where he is." Warren...sick! So, he never left, no clever tactics or deceptions after all. Now what?!
More waiting, watching, wondering... the boy shows and I pay him; nothing to report of course. A few minutes later I observe the doctor departing. I need to find out what has happened. It should be a simple deception to cajole the landlady for details and if it fails, I'll send a cryptic letter, in case she reads his mail. Ringing the door bell, I attempt to look aloof and unconcerned. A red faced woman with plump cheeks and carrot-red hair tied up in a top knot answers. I ask if Mr. Samuel Warren is at home, he wasn't expecting me, but we were at University together and I happened to be in town etc.; I use my best smile and genteel manner to win her over. An onslaught of information hits me like a tidal wave. Poor Mr. Warren, so sick, Dr. just left, prescription coming, too ill for visitors... once I could get a word in edgewise to inquire about visits, I am advised to come back in a couple of days and see if he is well enough for a short visit. I thanked her and turned, hearing the door creak shut behind me, I stand on the stoop looking down on the busy street filled with strolling couples, carriages trotting by... everything normal and mundane. Inside my guts swirled and lurched. So much for my grand scheme. What the hell happens now?! Time is running out...