Here is a possible explanation, for our poets:

The doctor is a gynaecologist, which explains the mysterious lady visitors who hide their faces in their pashminas. He specializes in preparing daughters of rich Indian families for marriage: matching bridegrooms, resp. mothers-in-law, will demand perfect virginity, on top of an enormous dowry.

Shortly after one such luxurious marriage, the bride discovers that the abortion had been unsuccessful, though performed under meticulous observation of orthodox Ayurveda practice. Fearing for her life, she swims through the Channel to Germany, to stay with a former schoolmate of hers who runs a curry foodstall. After several months of fever and despair, she has a stillbirth. With her last strength, she wraps the dead fetus with a bag from the foodstall. She addresses the parcel to the Doctor in England, encloses a letter of fervent accusations, and posts it, properly stamped. On her way back from the post office, she collapses dead.

It turns out that her mother-in-law has long found out her whereabouts, poisoned her curry, and watched her die. She has also read the address on the parcel, and cannot resist sending an email of taunt to the doctor. Panic-stricken, the latter leaves his office immediately, hoping that his neighbour will dispose of the corpus delicti when it starts to smell.