This expression intensified itself as I entered the room, which, by the way, was the first indication of a fact that later became all too painfully evident, namely that I, Sarah Keate, occupied a prominent place in the list of suspects, for had I not been in the south wing? Had I not been in a position to administer the morphine that caused the patient’s death? Had I not been the one to find him?
One or two of the board had the grace to rise as I entered, but most of them were too agitated to remember their manners.
“What is this about Dr. Letheny?” I began.
“Are you Miss Keate?” asked the chief of police.
“Yes,” I replied, none too graciously.
“We were just about to send for you,” he informed me. “Now suppose you tell us everything you know of this affair. Mind, I say everything.”
I turned to Dr. Balman.
“Hasn’t Dr. Letheny returned yet?”
He shook his head slowly.
“Come, come, Miss Keate,” said the chief.
“Doesn’t Miss Letheny know where he is?” I insisted anxiously.
“Apparently not.” It was Dr. Hajek who answered.
“Will you answer my questions?” demanded the chief loudly.
“Another time,” I stated impatiently. Didn’t the man see what the pressing issue was! “When did Miss Letheny see him last?”
Dr. Hajek shook his head. “She has not seen him since last night about twelve thirty.”
The chief rose.
“Now, look here! We’ll have no more funny business,” he began to bluster.
“Oh, do be still!” I may have spoken somewhat irritably; at any rate the chief turned purple. “Don’t you see,” I explained reasonably, “don’t you see that we must find Dr. Letheny? That so much hinges upon our finding him? Why, so far as we know, he decided to remove the radium, perhaps he—” I stuck, appalled by the literal truth of my words.
The chief was quick to pick me up.
“So you have already formed your opinion. And quite right, too. It is very clear that this Letheny fellow has got away with the radium.” The chief actually began rubbing his hands together and smiling. “Now, Miss Keate, just tell us why you suspect Dr. Letheny of this crime.”
“But I don’t!” I cried in exasperation. “I have not had time to suspect anyone yet. I have been too busy. The reason I spoke as I did of Dr. Letheny is that he is the attendant physician; he knew more of Mr. Jackson’s condition than any of us. He may have decided that the radium was—er—not doing any good and may have removed it for that reason. It seems to me that our hands are tied without him.”
“Just a moment, chief,” remarked one of the most intelligent members of the board. “Suppose we follow your suggestion and leave all investigation until this man—what is his name?”
“Lance O’Leary,” supplied the chief sulkily.
“Until this Lance O’Leary gets here. You seem to have great confidence in him and—”
“Him and me always work together,” interpolated the chief.
“He is out of town at present,” went on the board member, addressing me.
“Suits me,” said the chief. “I’ve wired him and he will be here on the afternoon train. We’ve got everything under guard and can leave the room just as we found it.”
“Then there is no need for us to stay any longer,” remarked a particularly well-fed board member, getting fussily to his feet and kicking a little to shake down his trousers over his fat calves. “I’ve got to get to the office. And now see here, Dr. Balman—and you others—of course we don’t say that this is your fault—”
“Well, I should hope not!” I interrupted tartly.
“Your fault,” he repeated, eyeing me severely. “But at the same time it shouldn’t have happened. There is something wrong somewhere. Here we go and put sixty-five thousand dollars into a whole gram of radium and now look what happens!” The other members shook their fat cheeks in sympathy.
“You seem to forget,” I remarked with some asperity, “that there was also a murder in the hospital last night, which might have been prevented had we had an emergency gas line installed. We were without lights a good share of the night.”
This was not quite true, in that the murder had been committed, I had no doubt, before the lights had gone out, but the subject of gas for emergency use had been a matter of contention between the board and the staff for some time and I was glad to note that the entire board looked distinctly uneasy as it filed fatly from the office.
“A splendid group of gentlemen,” commented the chief approvingly.
“Then we are to do nothing until this detective arrives?” I asked impatiently.
“So it seems,” said Dr. Balman, sighing wearily.
“Yes, and nothing is enough,” said the chief, whose name, by the way, proved to be Blunt. “Once Lance O’Leary gets his teeth in anything it is as good as finished. Say—I could tell you things—”
“If only we could find Dr. Letheny,” I reflected. “It is so strange, his disappearing like this and at such a time.”
“Maybe it ain’t so strange as you think,” remarked Chief Blunt. “There is many a man would like to disappear with about sixty-five thousand dollars in his pocket. Say, what does that radium look like? How would you carry it anyhow? Wouldn’t it burn you?”
“It is carried in a small steel box that is especially made to protect it—and you,” explained Dr. Balman. As I glanced at him I was struck by the unbelievably drawn and haggard appearance of his face, which was intensified by a bruise on one
