Then Reggie strolled into the kitchen. “I can get out to the garden through the scullery, can’t I?” He smiled at the cook. “Door opens under the terrace? Thanks.”
Into the scullery he went, and closed the door behind him. He sniffed at the milk in the saucepan, looked round, opened the larder, and in it found a bottle of milk three parts empty, another sealed. The sealed bottle he took, and, returning to the scullery, poured a portion of it into a clean saucepan. The saucepan with the milk which Minnie had prepared he set down outside in the garden. Under his own saucepan he lit the gas, and stood by it till he heard Minnie’s heavy steps returning. Then he put out the gas and slid away through the garden door, to stop, out of sight, beyond the window.
He watched Minnie take the saucepan with hurried bungling hands, taste the milk, pour it into a jug. She spilt some; she exclaimed hysterically, wiped up the mess, and thudded away.
Then he came in, and followed her quickly to meet Underwood in the hall. “Up you go,” he muttered. “After her. See her give it to her mother. Then call her away. Ask her anything you dam’ like. Don’t let her make any more food for mother, that’s all. Anything mother wants, the cook must make. Stay here till further notice. See?”
“What, you mean that milk - -?” Underwood gasped.
“The milk she’s taken is all right. I’ve got the milk she cooked. Get on, get on.”
Underwood ran upstairs, and, as he went, Alfred came down, gave a sidelong look of fear and hate at Reggie, and left the house. Reggie followed, but only to take a rug from his car. When he returned to the car, the saucepan and the bottle of milk were hidden under the rug. He drove away to his laboratory… .
It was some hours later; he was not in the laboratory, but in the room beyond - in an easy chair, on the small of his back - when the telephone rang.
The voice of Underwood came to him, emotional and aggrieved: “I’ve been ringing up your house, sir. There’s the very devil of a business here. The old lady’s been taken bad. Sick and convulsions, and I don’t know what. She can’t hardly speak now, but she says Minnie poisoned her. Her doctor says it looks like arsenic poisoning.”
“Oh, yes. Yes. I should think he’s right,” Reggie drawled. “I’ll come and see.”
“Did you expect it?” Underwood’s voice rose. “One of the possibilities. Yes,” Reggie murmured,” probable possibility,” and he rang off.
Again he came into Mrs. Colson’s room. As he entered, his head jerked back and his nostrils dilated. There was a faint smell of garlic. A doctor and a nurse were by the bed, and from it came a groaning sound. But he went first to the gas - stove, and looked down into it. Though it was not alight, some charred matter lay on the hearth, and the upper part of the cream fire - brick bore a brown stain. He gave that a little smile of satisfaction. Then he moved slowly to the bedside. The old face I was now of a bluish pallor and drawn with pain, and i beads of sweat stood upon it. The eyes were sunken; looked fear, looked at no one. The body was contorted in slow faint spasms.
He beckoned the doctor out, and took him to the dingy little room downstairs where Underwood waited, nervous and impatient. He sank into a chair and sighed. “Well, well. Quite clear, what?” He surveyed the doctor with placid eyes. “Acute poisonin’. As you said. Irritant poison. No doubt arsenic. You noticed the garlic smell? Also brown sublimation on the gas - stove? Arsenic has been burnt there. Resolute bit of poisonin’. I should say you won’t save her.”
“I’m afraid not, Mr. Fortune.” The doctor shook melancholy head. “She’s old; she has no power of resistance. It’s a dreadful tragedy.”
“Yes. Tragic elements,” Reggie murmured. “Her own daughter!” the doctor exclaimed.
“Oh no. No.” Reggie smiled. “Not her daughter. Herself.”
The doctor drew back. “But she has said it was her daughter, sir. The inspector, here, has it written down. He - -”
“That’s right, Mr. Fortune,” Underwood broke in. “It’s like this. First I knew of her being taken bad - there was a scream, and I ran up, and she was in a ghastly mess; and she said, ‘ Minnie, Minnie,’ and cried, and then afterwards - she couldn’t speak properly - she wrote down - look - -”
He produced a paper, and Reggie saw written, in a shaken hand, “Milk Minnie gave me. Tasted strange. She poisoned me.”
“Here is some of the milk left, sir.” The doctor pointed to a jug and a dirty glass on the table. “You have only to make a test.”
“And I shall find arsenic. Yes. I believe you. But this isn’t the milk Minnie prepared. This is milk that I prepared from a sealed bottle.” He turned on Underwood. “You watched Minnie take it into her?”
“I did, sir,” Underwood answered eagerly. “And she didn’t put anything into it, I’ll swear. As soon as she set it down, I took her away, and I had her here, under examination, till there was a scream, and I ran up and found the old lady being sick and saying it was Minnie. That’s how it was. Minnie can’t have done it.”
“No. Quite impossible. You see, doctor? The milk which Minnie did prepare I took away; and I’ve tested it, and there was no arsenic in it, nor in the sealed bottle of milk from which I sent up that jugful. Absolutely clear case. Mrs. Colson put arsenic into the milk herself from a store she had in the bedroom, and burnt the rest on the gas - stove; then she swallowed the dose, and, when the pangs came on, accused Minnie. No probable, possible shadow of doubt; no possible doubt whatever. Suicide by mother in order to convict daughter of murder. Case with elements of tragedy, as you say.”
“My God! It’s horrible,” the doctor gasped. “You think so? Yes. However. We’ve prevented the worst. We’ve made an end. You’d better go back to your patient.”
“I can’t do anything,” the doctor muttered. “Oh, no. No. But she might as well die as easy as may be.” The doctor stared at him, and went slowly out.
“Mr. Fortune,” said Underwood, and stopped. “I mean to say, did you expect this?” Reggie gazed at his keen, anxious face with closing eyes. “When you changed the milk - when you sent me up to make sure Minnie didn’t dope what you got ready - I made sure you were going to catch Minnie out by testing the first lot.”
“One of the possibilities,” Reggie murmured. “Never probable possibility. But one must try everything. Broken toad indicated criminal was person of determination - Minnie isn’t.”
“You did think the old lady would poison herself?”
A small smile curled Reggie’s lips. “What I thought isn’t evidence. I was protectin’ the innocent. Our job, Underwood. We haven’t been very efficient. But some success at last. Also our job to punish the sinner. That we have done. See the sequence, don’t you? Murders of grandfather and father committed to enrich the darlin’ son. Murder of constable accidental in attempt murder darlin’ son’s wife, subsequently achieved. Motive of that; deliverance of darlin’ son from extravagant and vicious wife. If daughter could be convicted of the murder, whole of family fortune would be left for son. Hence daughter’s string used for trip line, and daughter’s shoes scratched on the broken toad. Devoted mother. Absolute devotion. When police were gettin’ dangerous about the murders - when darlin’ son came runnin’ to her in a fright that they were makin’ a case against him - final effort to save him by proving, with her own death, daughter was the family murderer. Beautiful self - sacrifice.”
“Good God!” said Underwood, under his breath. “That’s why you bullied Alfred into a funk!”
