Dear Dr Galbraith. If it is at all possible, I beg that you will come to Stonygates as soon as you receive this. ,4 crisis of extraordinary gravity has arisen and I am at a loss how to deal with it. I know how deep your affection is for our dear Carrie Louise, and how grave your concern will be for anything that affects her. How much has she got to know?
How much can we keep from her? Those are the questions that I find difficult to answer.
Not to beat about the bush, I have reason to believe that that sweet and innocent lady is being slowly poisoned. I first suspected this when Here the letter broke off abruptly.
Curry said: ‘And when he had reached this point Christian
Gulbrandsen was shot?’
‘Yes.’
‘But why on earth was this letter in the typewriter?’ ‘I can only conceive of two reasons – one, that the murderer had no idea to whom Gulbrandsen was writing and what was the subject of the letter. Secondly – he may not have had time. He may have heard someone coming and only had just time to escape unobserved.’
‘And Gulbrandsen gave you no hint as to whom he suspected – if he did suspect anyone?’
There was, perhaps, a very slight pause before Lewis answered.
‘None whatever.’
He added, rather obscurely:
‘Christian was a very fair man.’
‘How do you think this poison, arsenic or whatever it may be – was or is being administered?’
‘I thought over that whilst I was changing for dinner and it seemed to me that the most likely vehicle was some medicine, a tonic, that my wife was taking. As regards food, we all partake of the same dishes and my wife has nothing specially prepared for her. But anyone could add arsenic to the medicine bottle.’
‘We must take the medicine and have it analysed.’ Lewis said quietly:
‘I already have a sample of it. I took it this evening before dinner.’
From a drawer {n the desk he took out a small corked bottle with a red fluid in it.
Inspector Curry said with a curious glance:
‘You think of everything, Mr Serrocold.’
‘I believe in acting promptly. Tonight, I stopped my wife from taking her usual dose. It is still in a glass on the oak dresser in the Hall – the bottle of tonic itself is in the dining-room.’ Curry leaned forward across the desk. He lowered his voice and spoke confidentially and without officialdom.
‘You’ll excuse me, Mr Serrocold, but just why are you so anxious to keep this from your wife? Are you afraid she’d panic? Surely, for her own sake, it would be as well if she were warned.’ ‘Yes – yes, that may well be so. But I don’t think you quite understand. Without knowing my wife Caroline, it would be difficult. My wife, Inspector Curry, is an idealist, a completely trustful person. Of her it may truly be said that she sees no evil, hears no evil, and speaks no evil. It would be inconceivable to her that anyone could wish to kill her. But we have to go farther than that. It is not just “anyone.” It is a case – surely you see that – of someone possibly very near and dear to her…’ ‘So that’s what you think?’ ‘We have got to face facts. Close at hand we have a couple of hundred warped and stunted personalities who have expressed themselves often enough by crude and senseless violence. But by the very nature of things, none of them can be suspect in this case. A slow poisoner is someone living in the intimacy of family life. Think of the people who are here in this house; her husband, her daughter, her granddaughter, her granddaughter’s husband, her stepson whom she regards as her own son, Miss Believer her devoted companion and friend of many years. All very near and dear to her – and yet the suspicion must arise – is it one of them?’ Curry said slowly: ‘There are outsiders ‘
‘Yes, in a sense. There is Dr Maverick, one or two of the staff are often with us, there are the servants – but frankly, what possible motive could they have?’ Inspector Curry said: