one of his methods of investigation was to
propound to himself fantastic theories of guilt
which he applied to such persons as he was
interrogating at the time.
Miss Griffith, whom he had at once picked
out with an unerring eye as being the most
suitable person to give him a succinct account
of the events which had led to his being
seated where he was, had just left the room
9
having given him an admirable resume of the
morning’s happenings. Inspector Neele propounded
to himself three separate highly
coloured reasons why the faithful doyenne of
the typists’ room should have poisoned her
employer’s mid-morning cup of tea, and
rejected them as unlikely.
He classified Miss Griffith as (a) Not the
type of a poisoner, (b) Not in love with her
employer, (c) No pronounced mental instability,
(d) Not a woman who cherished
grudges. That really seemed to dispose of
Miss Griffith except as a source of accurate
information.
Inspector Neele glanced at the telephone.
He was expecting a call from St. Jude’s Hospital
at any moment now.
It was possible, of course, that Mr. Fortescue’s
sudden illness was due to natural
causes, but Dr. Isaacs of Bethnal Green had
not thought so and Sir Edwin Sandeman of
Harley Street had not thought so.
Inspector Neele pressed a buzzer conveniently
situated at his left hand and demanded
that Mr. Fortescue’s personal secretary
should be sent in to him.
Miss Grosvenor had recovered a little of
her poise, but not much. She came in appre-
10
hensively, with nothing of the swanlike glide
about her motions, and said at once defensively:
“I didn’t do it!”
Inspector Neele murmured conversationally:
“No?”
He indicated the chair where Miss
Grosvenor was wont to place herself, pad in
hand, when summoned to take down Mr.
Fortescue’s letters. She sat down now with
reluctance and eyed Inspector Neele in alarm.
Inspector Neele, his mind playing imaginatively
on the themes Seduction? Blackmail?
Platinum Blonde in Court? etc., looked
reassuring and just a little stupid.
“There wasn’t anything wrong with the
tea,” said Miss Grosvenor. “There couldn’t
have been.”
“/ see,” said Inspector Neele. “Your name
and address, please?”
“Grosvenor. Irene Grosvenor.”
“How do you spell it?”
“Oh. Like the Square.”
“And your address?”
“14 Rushmoor Road, Muswell Hill.”
Inspector Neele nodded in a satisfied
fashion.
“No seduction,” he said to himself. “No
11
Love Nest. Respectable home with parents.
No blackmail.”
Another good set of speculative theories
washed out.
“And so it was you who made the tea?” he
said pleasantly.
“Well, I had to. I always do, I mean.”
Unhurried, Inspector Neele took her
closely through the morning ritual of Mr.
Fortescue’s tea. The cup and saucer and
teapot had already been packed up and dispatched
to the appropriate quarter for
analysis. Now Inspector Neele learned that
Irene Grosvenor and only Irene Grosvenor
had handled that cup and saucer and teapot.
The kettle had been used for making the
office tea and had been refilled from the
cloakroom tap by Miss Grosvenor.
“And the tea itself?”
“It was Mr. Fortescue’s own tea, special
China tea. It’s kept on the shelf in my room
next door.”
Inspector Neele nodded. He inquired about
sugar and heard that Mr. Fortescue didn’t
take sugar.
The telephone rang. Inspector Neele
picked up the receiver. His face changed a
little.
12
“St. Jude’s?”
He nodded to Miss Grosvenor in dismissal.
“That’s all for now, thank you. Miss
Grosvenor.”
Miss Grosvenor sped out of the room
hurriedly.
Inspector Neele listened carefully to the
thin unemotional tones speaking from St.
Jude’s Hospital. As the voice spoke he made a
few cryptic signs with a pencil on the corner
of the blotter in front of him.
“Died five minutes ago, you say?” he
asked. His eye went to the watch on his wrist.
Twelve forty-three, he wrote on the blotter.
The unemotional voice said that Doctor
Bernsdorff himself would like to speak to
Inspector Neele.
Inspector Neele said, “Right. Put him
through,” which rather scandalised the
owner of the voice who had allowed a certain
amount of reverence to seep into the official
accents.
There were then various clicks, buzzes, and
far-off ghostly murmurs. Inspector Neele sat