Margaret and Catherine politely raised their eyebrows as if this were new information.
“Catherine, this is your area,” said Geoffrey. “I’m thinking slow-acting poison. Thoughts?”
Catherine paused, happy for the opportunity to engage her brain. All the information was still there. She just hadn’t used it for a long time. It didn’t take long to come to her.
“Thallium,” she said. “Thallium sulfate. It’s slow-acting, odorless, colorless…lovely poison. If that’s what you’re looking for. Mind you, it’s reallyveryslow-acting. Can take as long as a month to do the job.”
“Ah, but there you go, you see.” Geoffrey raised a finger, making his point. “That’s why she ended up hitting him on the head, throwing him off the roof. It was taking too long.”
Catherine frowned.
“What?” said Margaret.
“I don’t think it’s easy to get hold of,” said Catherine. “Not a big enough dose to kill anyone.”
“But like Geoffrey says,” pondered Margaret, “maybe she didn’t have a big enough dose. That’s why she did all the other stuff, the strangling, the bludgeoning, and the pushing.”
Catherine and Geoffrey shared a look.
“Doesn’t make sense, does it?” said Geoffrey.
“No, it doesn’t,” said Catherine.
“What?” said Margaret.
“She’s a seasoned killer,” said Geoffrey. “Doesn’t that strike you as rather…”
Catherine finished his sentence: “Amateur. Surely she knows enough about poison to get it right first time?”
Margaret slurped her tea, then spoke: “So Carol didn’t do it?”
“Oh, she did it,” said Geoffrey. “I’m sure of it. Just not sure we’ve got all the pieces in the right places yet.”
Catherine fiddled with her phone. Margaret thought about heading back up to her apartment. This new purpose they had was welcome, but it didn’t mean she was entirely abandoning the leisurely pace she’d grown used to living at. Would a biscuit with the cup of tea she’d have in front ofBargain Huntbe greedy? Considering the Eccles cake she’d just had? No one else need know about it, but wasn’t that worse? Like a drinker who hid bottles of vodka under the bed.
“Ha!” said Catherine, with satisfaction.
“What?” said Margaret.
“Look! Carol Quinn’s CV.” Catherine held up her phone. “It’s on LinkedIn, that horrible website they all use for their careers now.”
“Oh, it’s ghastly,” said Margaret.
“Oh, yes, totally ghastly,” said Geoffrey, trying to give the impression that he knew what they were talking about.
“They must have made her do it in prison, as part of her rehabilitation,” said Catherine. “But look, right here, look! She used to work in a laboratory.”
Margaret took Catherine’s phone and held it close to her face, squinting. “Oh, my, you’re right. At St. Thomas’s, yes. Only as a receptionist, though.”
Geoffrey took his turn to squint at the phone. “Excellent work, Catherine. This is damning.Damning.”
Margaret was skeptical. “Really? It was nearly fifty years ago!”
“Yes, but…” The new find had injected Geoffrey with energy. He stood up and paced. “If she’s worked in a lab, we have very good reason to believe she has connections, knowledge,access to poison.”
“I suppose it’spossible,” said Margaret, not wishing to pooh-pooh a man in his stride.
Geoffrey held up the phone. “I think we need to take this to the police.”
