The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie

tetrachloride, which is insoluble in water—or in snot, for that matter—which would also have helped inhibit the intake of outside air.

'No,' I said. 'But you might suggest that the lab in London carry out the test suggested by the British Pharmacopoeia.'

'Can't say I recall it, offhand,' Inspector Hewitt said.

'It's a very pretty procedure,' I said. 'One that checks the limit of free chlorine when iodine is liberated from cadmium iodide. I'm sure they're familiar with it. I'd offer to do it myself, but I don't expect Scotland Yard would be comfortable handing over bits of Bonepenny's brain to an eleven-year-old.'

Inspector Hewitt stared at me for what seemed several aeons.

'All right,' he said at last, 'let's have a dekko.'

'At what?' I said, putting on my mask of injured innocence.

'Whatever you've done. Let's have a look at it.'

'But I haven't done anything,' I said. 'I—'

'Don't play me for a fool, Flavia. No one who has had the pleasure of your acquaintance would ever believe for an instant that you haven't done your homework.”

I grinned sheepishly. “It's over here,” I said, moving towards a corner table upon which stood a glass tank shrouded with a damp tea towel.

I whisked the cloth away.

'Good Lord!' the Inspector said. 'What in the name of—?'

He fairly gaped at the pinkish gray object that floated serenely in the tank.

'It's a nice bit of brain,' I said. 'I pinched it from the larder. Mrs. Mullet bought it at Carnforth's yesterday for supper tonight. She's going to be furious.'

'And you've.?' he said, flapping his hand.

'Yes, that's right. I've injected it with two and a half cubic centimeters of carbon tetrachloride. That's how much Bonepenny's syringe held.

'The average human brain weighs three pounds,' I went on, 'and that of the male perhaps a little more. I've cut an extra five ounces to allow for it.'

'How did you find that out?” the Inspector asked.

'It's in one of the volumes of Arthur Mee's books. The Children's Encyclopaedia again, I think.”

'And you've tested this. brain, for the presence of carbon tetrachloride?'

'Yes,' I said, 'but not until fifteen hours after I injected it. I judged that's how much time elapsed between the stuff being shot into Bonepenny's brain and the autopsy.'

'And?'

'Still easily detectable,' I said. 'Child's play. Of course I used p- Aminodimethylaniline. That's rather a new test, but an elegant one. It was written up in The Analyst about five years ago. Pull up a stool and I'll show you.”

'This isn't going to work, you know.' Inspector Hewitt chuckled.

'Not work?' I said. 'Of course it will work. I've already done it once.'

'I mean you're not going to dazzle me with lab work and skate conveniently round the stamp. After all, that's what this whole thing is about, isn't it?'

He had me cornered. I had planned on saying nothing about the Ulster Avenger and then quietly handing it over to Father. Who would ever be the wiser?

'Look, I know you have it,' he said. 'We paid a visit to Dr. Kissing at Rook's End.'

I tried to look unconvinced.

'And Bob Stanley, your Mr. Pemberton, has told us that you stole it from him.'

Stole it from him? The idea! What cheek!

'It belongs to the King,' I protested. 'Bonepenny nicked it from an exhibition in London.'

'Well, whomever it belongs to, it's stolen property, and my duty is to see that it's returned. All I need to know is how it came into your possession.'

Drat the man! I could dodge it no longer. I was going to have to confess my trespasses at the Thirteen Drakes.

'Let's make a deal,' I said.

Inspector Hewitt burst out laughing. “There are times, Miss de Luce,” he said, “when you deserve a brass medal. And there are other times you deserve to be sent to your room with bread and water.”

'And which one of those times is this?' I asked.

Hooo! Better watch your step, Flave.

He waggled his fingers at me. “I'm listening,” he said.

'Well, I've been thinking,' I told him. 'Father's life hasn't been exactly pleasant lately. In the first place, you