4_50 From Paddington - Agatha Christie [70]
“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 idea. “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 causing 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:
“OK. 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.”
Twenty
I
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 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 Johnstone 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