 So I decided to turn the case down. When I arrived in front of the dilapidated old mansion where Angela Mullins lived and counted the money, there were two other cars in the driveway. One was an old model coupe with the earmarks of hard use. The other was a shiny sedan with the insignia of a doctor on it. It was just 8 o'clock as I went up the creaky steps across the porch and knocked with the old-fashioned knocker.