“Well, I suppose the police will get down to it all right,” said Tommy.
“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.