Sparkling Cyanide - Agatha Christie [54]
Gently distracting her from the trials and compensations of a girl’s existence Kemp took her through her story once more.
‘That’s our last chance of outside help gone,’ he said to Race when they had left Miss Shannon’s flat. ‘And it would have been a good chance if it had come off. That girl’s the right kind of witness. Sees things and remembers them accurately. If there had been anything to see, she’d have seen it. So the answer is that there wasn’t anything to see. It’s incredible. It’s a conjuring trick! George Barton drinks champagne and goes and dances. He comes back, drinks from the same glass that no one has touched and Hey Presto it’s full of cyanide. It’s crazy—I tell you—it couldn’t have happened except that it did.’
He stopped a minute.
‘That waiter. The little boy. Giuseppe never mentioned him. I might look into that. After all, he’s the one person who was near the table whilst they were all away dancing. There might be something in it.’
Race shook his head.
‘If he’d put anything in Barton’s glass, that girl would have seen him. She’s a born observer of detail. Nothing to think about inside her head and so she uses her eyes. No, Kemp, there must be some quite simple explanation if only we could get it.’
‘Yes, there’s one. He dropped it in himself.’
‘I’m beginning to believe that that is what happened—that it’s the only thing that can have happened. But if so, Kemp, I’m convinced he didn’t know it was cyanide.’
‘You mean someone gave it to him? Told him it was for indigestion or blood pressure—something like that?’
‘It could be.’
‘Then who was the someone? Not either of the Farradays.’
‘That would certainly seem unlikely.’
‘And I’d say Mr Anthony Browne is equally unlikely. That leaves us two people—an affectionate sister-in-law—’
‘And a devoted secretary.’
Kemp looked at him.
‘Yes—she could have planted something of the kind on him—I’m due now to go to Kidderminster House—What about you? Going round to see Miss Marle?’
‘I think I’ll go and see the other one—at the office. Condolences of an old friend. I might take her out to lunch.’
‘So that is what you think.’
‘I don’t think anything yet. I’m casting about for spoor.’
‘You ought to see Iris Marle, all the same.’
‘I’m going to see her—but I’d rather go to the house first when she isn’t there. Do you know why, Kemp?’
‘I’m sure I couldn’t say.’
‘Because there’s someone there who twitters—twitters like a little bird…A little bird told me—was a saying of my youth. It’s very true, Kemp—these twitterers can tell one a lot if one just lets them—twitter!’
Chapter 4
The two men parted. Race halted a taxi and was driven to George Barton’s office in the city. Chief Inspector Kemp, mindful of his expense account, took a bus to within a stone’s throw of Kidderminster House.
The inspector’s face was rather grim as he mounted the steps and pushed the bell. He was, he knew, on difficult ground. The Kidderminster faction had immense political influence and its ramifications spread out like a network throughout the country. Chief Inspector Kemp had full belief in the impartiality of British justice. If Stephen or Alexandra Farraday had been concerned in the death of Rosemary Barton or in that of George Barton no ‘pull’ or ‘influence’ would enable them to escape the consequences. But if they were guiltless, or the evidence against them was too vague to ensure conviction, then the responsible officer must be careful how he trod or he would be liable