"Yes. On one of those stone jars."
"I'll have some of that, too."
He rose. "I'll go up and have a look at them again. After that, can you hold the fort until morning? Keep an eye on them all? I can have a nurse round, with full instructions, by eight o'clock."
"I wish you'd tell me straight out. Do you think it's food poisoning - or - or - well, poisoning."
"I've told you already. Doctors can't think - they have to be sure. If there's a positive result from these food specimens I can go ahead. Otherwise -"
"Otherwise?" Lucy repeated.
Dr. Quimper laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Look after two people in particular," he said. "Look after Emma. I'm not going to have anything happen to Emma..."
There was emotion in his voice that could not be disguised. "She's not even begun to live yet," he said. "And you know, people like Emma Crackenthorpe are the salt of the earth... Emma - well, Emma means a lot to me. I've never told her so, but I shall. Look after Emma."
"You bet I will," said Lucy.
"And look after the old man. I can't say that he's ever been my favourite patient, but he is my patient, and I'm damned if I'm going to let him be hustled out of the world because one or other of his unpleasant sons - or all three of them, maybe - want him out of the way so that they can handle his money."
He threw her a sudden quizzical glance.
"There," he said. "I've opened my mouth too wide. But keep your eyes skinned, there's a good girl, and, incidentally, keep your mouth shut."
V
Inspector Bacon was looking upset.
"Arsenic?" he said. "Arsenic?"
"Yes. It was in the curry. Here's the rest of the curry - for your fellow to have a go at. I've only done a very rough test on a little of it, but the result was quite definite."
"So there's a poisoner at work?"
"It would seem so," said Dr. Quimper dryly.
"And they're all affected, you say - except that Miss Eyelesbarrow."
"Except Miss Eyelesbarrow."
"Looks a bit fishy for her..."
"What motive could she possibly have?"
"Might be barmy," suggested Bacon.
"Seem all right, they do, sometimes, and yet all the time they're right off their rocker, so to speak."
"Miss Eyelesbarrow isn't off her rocker. Speaking as a medical man, Miss Eyelesbarrow is as sane as you or I are. If Miss Eyelesbarrow is feeding the family arsenic in their curry, she's doing it for a reason. Moreover, being a highly intelligent young woman, she'd be careful not to be the only one unaffected. What she'd do, what any intelligent poisoner would do, would be to eat a very little of the poisoned curry, and then exaggerate the symptoms."
"And then you wouldn't be able to tell?"
"That she'd had less than the others? Probably not. People don't all react alike to poisons anyway - the same amount will upset some people more than others. Of course," added Dr. Quimper cheerfully, "once the patient's dead, you can estimate fairly closely how much was taken."
"Then it might be..." Inspector Bacon paused to consolidate his ideas. "It might be that there's one of the family now who's making more fuss than he need - someone who you might say is mucking in with the rest so as to avoid arousing suspicion? How's that?"
"The idea has already occurred to me. That's why I'm reporting to you. It's in your hands now. I've got a nurse on the job that I can trust, but she can't be everywhere at once. In my opinion, nobody's had enough to cause death."
"Made a mistake, the poisoner did?"
"No. It seems to me more likely that the idea was to put enough in the curry to cause signs of food poisoning - for which probably the mushrooms would be blamed. People are always obsessed with the idea of mushroom-poisoning. Then one person would probably take a turn for the worse and die."
"Because he'd been given a second dose?"
The doctor nodded.
"That's why I'm reporting to you at once, and why I've put a special nurse on the job."
"She knows about the arsenic?"
"Of course. She knows and so does Miss Eyelesbarrow. You know your own job best, of course, but if I were you, I'd get out there and make it quite clear to them all that they're suffering from arsenic poisoning. That will probably put the fear of the Lord into our murderer and he won't dare to carry out his plan. He's probably been banking on the food-poisoning theory."
The telephone rang on the inspector's desk. He picked it up and said:
"O.K. Put her through." He said to Quimper, "It's your nurse on the phone. Yes, hallo - speaking... What's that? Serious relapse... Yes... Dr. Quimper's with me now... If you'd like a word with him..."
He handed the receiver to the doctor.
"Quimper speaking... I see... Yes... Quite right... Yes, carry on with that. We'll be along."
He put the receiver down and turned to Bacon.
"Who is it?"
"It's Alfred," said Dr. Quimper. "And he's dead."
Chapter 20
Over the telephone, Craddock's voice came in sharp disbelief.
"Alfred?" he said. "Alfred?"
Inspector Bacon, shifting the telephone receiver a little, said: "You didn't expect that?"
"No, indeed. As a matter of fact, I'd just got him taped for the murderer!"
"I heard about him being spotted by the ticket collector. Looked bad for him all right. Yes, looked as though we'd got our man."
"Well," said Craddock flatly, "we were wrong."
There was a moment's silence. Then Craddock asked:
"There was a nurse in charge. How did she come to slip up?"
"Can't blame her. Miss Eyelesbarrow was all in and went to get a bit of sleep. The nurse had got five patients on her hands, the old man, Emma, Cedric, Harold and Alfred. She couldn't be everywhere at once. It seems old Mr. Crackenthorpe started creating in a big way. Said he was dying. She went in, got him soothed down, came back again and took Alfred in some tea with glucose. He drank it and that was that."
"Arsenic again?"
"Seems so. Of course it could have been a relapse, but Quimper doesn't think so and Johnson agrees."
"I suppose," said Craddock, doubtfully, "that Alfred was meant to be the victim?"
Bacon sounded interested. "You mean that whereas Alfred's death wouldn't do anyone a penn'orth of good, the old man's death would benefit the lot of them? I suppose it might have been a mistake - somebody might have thought the tea was intended for the old man."
"Are they sure that that's the way the stuff was administered?"
"No, of course they aren't sure. The nurse, like a good nurse, washed up the whole contraption. Cups, spoons, teapot - everything. But it seems the only feasible method."
"Meaning," said Craddock thoughtfully, "that one of the patients wasn't as ill as the others? Saw his chance and doped the cup?"
"Well, there won't be any more funny business," said Inspector Bacon grimly. "We've got two nurses on the job now, to say nothing of Miss Eyelesbarrow, and I've got a couple of men there too. You coming down?"
"As fast as I can make it!"
II
Lucy Eyelesbarrow came across the hall to meet Inspector Craddock. She looked pale and drawn.
"You've been having a bad time of it," said Craddock.
"It's been like one long ghastly nightmare," said Lucy. "I really thought last night that they were all dying."
"About this curry -"
"It was the curry?"
"Yes, very nicely laced with arsenic - quite the Borgia touch."
"If that's true," said Lucy. "It must - it's got to be - one of the family."
"No other possibility?"
"No, you see I only started making that damned curry quite late - after six o'clock -because Mr. Crackenthorpe specially asked for curry. And I had to open a new tin of curry powder - so that couldn't have been tampered with. I suppose curry would disguise the taste?"
"Arsenic hasn't any taste," said Craddock absently. "Now, opportunity. Which of them had the chance to tamper with the curry while it was cooking?"
Lucy considered.
"Actually," she said, "anyone could have sneaked into the kitchen whilst I was laying the table in the dining-room."
"I see. Now, who was there in the house? Old Mr. Crackenthorpe, Emma, Cedric -"
"Harold and Alfred. They'd come down from London in the afternoon. Oh, and Bryan - Bryan Eastley. But he left just before dinner. He had to meet a man in Brackhampton."
Craddock said thoughtfully, "It ties up with the old man's illness at Christmas. Quimper suspected that that was arsenic. Did they all seem equally ill last night?"
Lucy considered. "I think old Mr. Crackenthorpe seemed the worst. Dr. Quimper had to work like a maniac on him. He's a jolly good doctor, I will say. Cedric made by far the most fuss. Of course, strong healthy people always do."
"What about Emma?"
"She has been pretty bad."
"Why Alfred, I wonder?" said Craddock.
"I know," said Lucy. "I suppose it was meant to be Alfred?"
"Funny - I asked that too!"
"It seems, somehow, so pointless."
"If I could only get at the motive for all this business," said Craddock. "It doesn't seem to tie up. The strangled woman in the sarcophagus was Edmund Crackenthorpe's widow, Martine. Let's assume that. It's pretty well proved by now. There must be a connection between that and the deliberate poisoning of Alfred. It's all here, in the family somewhere. Even saying one of them's mad doesn't help."
"Not really," Lucy agreed.
"Well, look after yourself," said Craddock warningly. "There's a poisoner in this house, remember, and one of your patients upstairs probably isn't as ill as he pretends to be."
Lucy went upstairs again slowly after Craddock's departure. An imperious voice, somewhat weakened by illness, called to her as she passed old Mr. Crackenthorpe's room.
"Girl - girl - is that you? Come here."
Lucy entered the room. Mr. Crackenthorpe was lying in bed well propped up with pillows. For a sick man he was looking, Lucy thought, remarkably cheerful.
"The house is full of damned hospital nurses," complained Mr. Crackenthorpe. "Rustling about, making themselves important, taking my temperature, not giving me what I want to eat - a pretty penny all that must be costing. Tell Emma to send 'em away. You could look after me quite well."
"Everybody's been taken ill, Mr. Crackenthorpe," said Lucy. "I can't look after everybody, you know."
"Mushrooms," said Mr. Crackenthorpe. "Damned dangerous things, mushrooms. It was that soup we had last night. You made it," he added accusingly.
"The mushrooms were quite all right, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
"I'm not blaming you, girl, I'm not blaming you. It's happened before. One blasted fungus slips in and does it. Nobody can tell. I know you're a good girl. You wouldn't do it on purpose. How's Emma?"
"Feeling rather better this afternoon."
"Ah. And Harold?"
"He's better too."
"What's this about Alfred having kicked the bucket?"
"Nobody's supposed to have told you that, Mr. Crackenthorpe."
Mr. Crackenthorpe laughed, a high, whinnying laugh of intense amusement. "I hear things," he said. "Can't keep things from the old man. They try to. So Alfred's dead, is he? He won't sponge on me any more, and he won't get any of the money either. They've all been waiting for me to die, you know - Alfred in particular. Now he's dead. I call that rather a good joke."
"That's not very kind of you, Mr. Crackenthorpe," said Lucy severely.
Mr. Crackenthorpe laughed again. "I'll outlive them all," he crowed. "You see if I don't, my girl. You see if I don't."
Lucy went to her room, she took out her dictionary and looked up the word 'tontine.'
She closed the book thoughtfully and stared ahead of her.
III
"Don't see why you want to come to me," said Dr. Morris, irritably.
"You've known the Crackenthorpe family a long time," said Inspector Craddock.
"Yes, yes, I knew all the Crackenthorpes. I remember old Josiah Crackenthorpe. He was a hard nut - shrewd man, though. Made a lot of money." He shifted his aged form in his chair and peered under bushy eyebrows at Inspector Craddock.
"So you've been listening to that young fool, Quimper," he said. "These zealous young doctors! Always getting ideas in their heads. Got it into his head that somebody was trying to poison Luther Crackenthorpe.
Nonsense. Melodrama! Of course, he had gastric attacks. I treated him for them. Didn't happen very often - nothing peculiar about them."
"Dr. Quimper," said Craddock, "seemed to think there was."
"Doesn't do for a doctor to go thinking. After all, I should hope I could recognise arsenical poisoning when I saw it."
"Quite a lot of well-known doctors haven't noticed it," Craddock pointed out.
"There was" - he drew upon his memory - "the Greenbarrow case, Mrs. Reney, Charles Leeds, three people in the Westbury family, all buried nicely and tidily without the doctors who attended them having the least suspicion. Those doctors were all good, reputable men."
"All right, all right," said Doctor Morris, "you're saying that I could have made a mistake. Well, I don't think I did." He paused a minute and then said, "Who did Quimper think was doing it - if it was being done?"
