'Wonderful?' I said. 'What was his illness?'
'Do I get the other fifty bucks?'
'Of course you do. What was it?'
'You'll never guess,' she said.
'What was it?' I implored.
'Arsenic poisoning,' she said.
Part II
1
I was waiting to see Mr Ignatz Teitelbaum on Monday morning, loitering outside his office and gossiping with Ada Mondora. She stared at me calculatingly.
'I don't know what to do,' she said.
'About what?' I asked innocently.
'About you,' she said. 'And Yetta Apatoff. And Hamish Hooter.'
'Oh,' I said. 'That.' With a shamed, sinking feeling to learn that my intimate affairs were a matter of public knowledge.
'There's an office pool,' she said. 'Didn't you know?'
I shook my head.
'You put up a dollar,' she explained, 'on who marries Yetta — you or Hooter. Right now the betting is about evenly divided, so all you can win is another dollar.'
'Who are you betting on?' I asked her.
She looked at me narrowly.
'I don't know,' she said. 'I haven't made up my mind.
Are you serious about her, Josh?'
'Sure,' I said.
'Uh-huh,' she said. 'We shall see what we shall see.'
The door of Mr Teitelbaum's office opened and Hamish Hooter exited, carrying a heavy ledger.
He looked at me, then looked at Ada Mondora, then strode away. Wordless.
'Mr Personality,' Ada said. 'You can go in now, Josh.'
He looked smaller than ever. He looked like a deflated football, the leather grained and wrinkled. He sat motionless behind that big desk, sharp eyes following me as I entered and approached. He jerked his chin towards an armchair. I sat down.
'Report?' he said, half-question and half-command.
'Mr Teitelbaum,' I started, 'about this Stonehouse business… I hope you'll approve an expenditure of a hundred dollars. For confidential information.'
'What information?'
'For a period of about six months, ending a month prior to his disappearance, Professor Stonehouse was suffering from arsenic poisoning.'
If I was expecting a reaction, I was disappointed; there was none.
'Sir, the information was obtained in such a manner that the firm's name will not be connected with it. I believe it is valid. The Professor was a victim of arsenic poisoning beginning in late summer of last year. Finally the symptoms became so extreme that he consulted a physician.
After a series of tests, the correct diagnosis was made.'
'You know all this?' he asked. 'For a fact?'
'I'm extrapolating,' I admitted. 'From information received from several sources. After the Professor became aware of what was going on, he apparently took steps to end the poisoning. In any event, he recovered. He was in reasonably good health at the time of his disappearance.'
He began to swing slowly back and forth in his swivel chair, turning his head slightly each time he swung to keep me in view.
'You think he was being deliberately poisoned, Mr Bigg?'
'Yes, sir.'
'By a member of his family?'
'Or his household, sir. There are two servants. I don't see how else it could have been done. It's my impression that he rarely dined out. If he was ingesting arsenic, he had to get it in his own home.'
'No one else in the household became ill?'
'No, sir, not to my knowledge. It's something I'll have to check out.'
He thought about this a long time.
'Ugly,' he said finally. There was no disgust in his voice, no note of disappointment in the conduct of the human race. It was just a judicial opinion: 'Ugly.'
'Yes, sir.'
'What would be the motive?' he asked. 'Presuming what you believe is true, why would anyone in the Stonehouse family wish to poison him?'
'That I don't know, sir. Perhaps it had something to do with the will. The missing will. Mr Teitelbaum, can a person draw up his own will?'
He stared at me.
'A holographic will?' he said. 'In the handwriting of the testator? Properly drawn and properly witnessed? Yes, it would be valid. With several caveats. A husband, for instance, could not totally disinherit his wife. A testator could not make bequests contrary to public policy. To finance the assassination of a president, for example. And so forth. There are other requirements best left to the expertise of an attorney. But a simple will composed by the testator could be legal.'
'With what you know about Professor Stonehouse, sir, do you think he was capable of drawing up such a document?'
He didn't hesitate.
'Yes,' he said. 'He would be capable. In fact, it would be likely, considering the kind of man he was. You think that's what he did?'
'I just don't know,' I admitted. 'It's certainly possible.
Did you ask Mrs Stonehouse if her husband had dealings with any other attorneys?'
'I asked,' he said, nodding. 'She said she knew of none.
That doesn't necessarily mean he didn't, of course. He was a very secretive man. Mr Bigg, I find this whole matter 141
increasingly disturbing. I told you I feared Professor Stonehouse was dead. I had nothing to base that belief on other than a feeling, instinct, a lifetime of dealing with the weaknesses of very fallible human beings. Your news that Professor Stonehouse was the victim of poisoning only confirms that belief.' He paused. 'We have both used the term 'victim.' You do not suppose, do you, that the poisoning could have been accidental?'
'I don't think so, sir.' We sat awhile in silence. 'Mr Teitelbaum,' I said, 'do you want me to continue the investigation?'
'Yes,' he said, in such a low voice that it came out a faint
'Ssss.'
'You don't feel the matter of the arsenic poisoning should be reported to the police?'
He roused, a little, and sat up straighter in his chair.
'No, not as yet. Continue with your inquiries.'
I walked down to the main floor, hoping to have a moment to chat with Yetta Apatoff. But Mr Orsini was just coming through the main entrance, the door held ajar for him by a worshipful aide, and two more bobbing along in his wake.
'Josh,' he cried, grabbing my arm. 'I've got a new one you'll love!'
