Partners in Crime

"Probably. I should like it to be us. By the way, did you notice a lot of small red dots on Miss Logan's arm?"

"I don't think I did. What about them?"

"They looked as though they were made by a hypodermic syringe," said Tuppence.

"Probably Dr. Burton gave her a hypodermic injection of some kind."

"Oh, very likely. But he wouldn't give her about forty."

"The cocaine habit," suggested Tommy helpfully.

"I thought of that," said Tuppence, "but her eyes were all right. You would see at once if it was cocaine or morphia. Besides she doesn't look that sort of old lady."

"Most respectable and God fearing" agreed Tommy.

"It is all very difficult," said Tuppence. "We have talked and talked and we don't seem any nearer now than we were. Don't let's forget to call at the doctor's on our way home."

The doctor's door was opened by a lanky boy of about fifteen.

"Mr. Blunt?" he inquired. "Yes, the doctor is out but he left a note for you in case you should call."

He handed them the note in question and Tommy tore it open.

"Dear Mr. Blunt,

There is reason to believe that the poison employed

was Ricin, a vegetable toxalbumose of tremendous

potency. Please keep this to yourself for the present."

Tommy let the note drop, but picked it up quickly.

"Ricin," he murmured. "Know anything about it, Tuppence? You used to be rather well up in these things."

"Ricin," said Tuppence, thoughtfully. "You get it out of Castor Oil, I believe."

"I never did take kindly to Castor Oil," said Tommy. "I am more set against it than ever now."

"The oil's all right. You get Ricin from the seeds of the Castor Oil plant. I believe I saw some Castor Oil plants in the garden this morning-big things with glossy leaves."

"You mean that someone extracted the stuff on the premises. Could Hannah do such a thing?

Tuppence shook her head.

"Doesn't seem likely. She wouldn't know enough."

Suddenly Tommy gave an exclamation.

"That book. Have I got it in my pocket still? Yes." He took it out, and turned over the leaves vehemently. "I thought so. Here's the page it was open at this morning. Do you see, Tuppence? Ricin!"

Tuppence seized the book from him.

"Can you make head or tail of it? I can't."

"It's clear enough to me," said Tuppence. She walked along, reading busily, with one hand on Tommy's arm to steer herself. Presently she shut the book with a bang. They were just approaching the house again.

"Tommy, will you leave this to me? Just for once, you see, I am the bull that has been more than twenty minutes in the arena."

Tommy nodded.

"You shall be the Captain of the Ship, Tuppence," he said gravely. "We've got to get to the bottom of this."

"First of all," said Tuppence as they entered the house, "I must ask Miss Logan one more question."

She ran upstairs. Tommy followed her. She rapped sharply on the old lady's door, and went in.

"Is that you, my dear?" said Miss Logan. "You know you are much too young and pretty to be a detective. Have you found out anything?"

"Yes," said Tuppence. "I have."

Miss Logan looked at her questioningly.

"I don't know about being pretty," went on Tuppence, "but being young, I happened to work in a hospital during the War. I know something about serum therapeutics. I happen to know that when Ricin is injected in small doses hypodermically immunity is produced, antiricin is formed. That fact paced the way for the foundation of serum therapeutics. You knew that, Miss Logan. You injected Ricin for some time hypodermically into yourself. Then you let yourself be poisoned with the rest. You helped your father in his work, and you knew all about Ricin and how to obtain it and extract it from the seeds. You chose a day when Dennis Radclyffe was out for tea. It wouldn't do for him to be poisoned at the same time-he might die before Lois Hargreaves. So long as she died first, he inherited her money, and at his death it passes to you, his next of kin. You remember, you told us this morning that his father was your first cousin."

The old lady stared at Tuppence with baleful eyes.

Suddenly a wild figure burst in from the adjoining room. It was Hannah. In her hand she held a lighted torch which she waved frantically.

"Truth has been spoken. That is the wicked one. I saw her reading the book, and smiling to herself and I knew. I found the book and the page-but it said nothing to me. But the voice of the Lord spoke to me. She hated my mistress, her ladyship. She was always jealous and envious. She hated my own sweet Miss Lois. But the wicked shall perish, the fire of the Lord shall consume them."

Waving her torch she sprang forward to the bed.

A cry arose from the old lady.

"Take her away-take her away. It's true-but take her away."