“Wait a sec. That’s not absolutely accurate. He must have taken the stuff between those two times, but might have been given him earlier. Suppose, for instance, somebody had dropped a poisoned pill into his usual bottle of soda-mints or whatever he used to take. That could have been worked at any time.”
“Well—not too early on, Peter. Suppose he had died a lot too soon and Lady Dormer had heard about it.”
“It wouldn’t have made any difference. She wouldn’t need to alter her will, or anything. The bequest to Miss Dorland would just stand as before.”
“Quite right. I was being stupid. Well, then, we’d better find out if he did take anything of that kind regularly. If he did, who would have had the opportunity to drop the pill in?”
“Penberthy, for one.”
“The doctor?—yes, we must stick his name down as a possible, though he wouldn’t have had the slightest motive. Still, we’ll put him in the column headed Opportunity.”
“That’s right, Charles. I do like your methodical ways.”
“Attraction of opposites,” said Parker, ruling a notebook into three columns. “Opportunity. Number 1, Dr. Penberthy. If the tablets or globules or whatever they were, were Penberthy’s own prescription, he would have a specially good opportunity. Not so good, though, if they were the kind of things you get ready-made from the chemist in sealed bottles.”
“Oh, bosh! he could always have asked to have a squint at ’em to see if they were the right kind. I insist on having Penberthy in. Besides, he was one of the people who saw the General between the critical hours—during what we may call the administration period, so he had an extra amount of opportunity.”
“So he had. Well, I’ve put him down. Though there seems no reason for him—”
“I’m not going to be put off by a trifling objection like that. He had the opportunity, so down he goes. Well, then, Miss Dorland comes next.”
“Yes. She goes down under opportunity and also under motive. She certainly had a big interest in polishing off the old man, she saw him during the period of administration and she very likely gave him something to eat or drink while he was in the house. So she is a very likely subject. The only difficulty with her is the difficulty of getting hold of the drug. You can’t get digitalin just by asking for it, you know.”
“N—no. At least, not by itself. You can get it mixed up with other drugs quite easily. I saw an ad in the Daily Views only this morning, offering a pill with half a grain of digitalin in it.”
“Did you? where?—oh, that! Yes, but it’s got nux vomica in it too, which is supposed to be an antidote. At any rate, it bucks the heart up by stimulating the nerves, so as to counteract the slowing-down action of the digitalin.”
“H’m. Well, put down Miss Dorland under Means with a query-mark. Oh, of course, Penberthy has to go down under Means too. He is the one person who could get the stuff without any bother.”
“Right. Means: No. 1, Dr. Penberthy. Opportunity: No. 1, Dr. Penberthy, No. 2, Miss Dorland. We’ll have to put in the servants at Lady Dormer’s too, shan’t we? Any of them who brought him food or drink, at any rate?”
“Put ’em in, by all means. They might have been in collusion with Miss Dorland. And how about Lady Dormer herself?”
“Oh, come, Peter. There wouldn’t be any sense in that.”
“Why not? She may have been planning revenge on her brother all these years, camouflaging her feelings under a pretense of generosity. It would be rather fun to leave a terrific legacy to somebody you loathed, and then, just when he was feelin’ nice and grateful and all over coals of fire, poison him to make sure he didn’t get it. We simply must have Lady Dormer. Stick her down under Opportunity and under Motive.”
“I refuse to do more than Opportunity and Motive (query?).”
“Have it your own way. Well now—there are our friends the two taxi-drivers.”
“I don’t think you can be allowed those. It would be awfully hard work poisoning a fare, you know.”
“I’m afraid it would. I say! I’ve just got a rippin’ idea for poisoning a taxi-man, though. You give him a dud half-crown, and when he bites it—”
“He dies of lead poisoning. That one’s got whiskers on it.”
“Juggins. You poison the half-crown with Prussic acid.”
“Splendid! And he falls down foaming at the mouth. That’s frightfully brilliant. Do you mind giving your attention to the matter in hand?”
“You think we can leave out the taxi-drivers, then?”
“I think so.”
“Right-oh! I’ll let you have them. That brings us, I’m sorry to say, to George Fentiman.”
“You’ve got rather a weakness for George Fentiman, haven’t you?”
“Yes—I like old George. He’s an awful pig in some ways, but I quite like him.”
“Well, I don’t know George, so I shall firmly put him down. Opportunity No. 3, he is.”
“He’ll have to go down under Motive, too, then.”
“Why? What did he stand to gain by Miss Dorland’s getting the legacy?”
“Nothing—if he knew about it. But Robert says emphatically that he didn’t know. So does George. And if he didn’t, don’t you see, the General’s death meant that he would immediately step into that two thousand quid which Dougal MacStewart was being so pressing about.”
“MacStewart?—oh, yes—the moneylender. That’s one up to you, Peter; I’d forgotten him. That certainly does put George on the list of the possibles. He was pretty sore about things too, wasn’t he?”
“Very. And I remember his saying one rather unguarded thing at least down at the Club on the very day of the murder—or rather, the death—was discovered.”
“That’s in his favor, if anything,” said Parker, cheerfully, “unless he’s very reckless indeed.”
“It won’t be in his favor with the
