“Exactly. Now, what do those private papers consist of? What value are they to the common thief—or any particular person?”
“To the common thief I cannot see that they would have any value at all, but my notes on certain obscure alkaloids would be of interest to anyone possessed of technical knowledge on the subject. I have been making a study of such matters for the last few years. These alkaloids are deadly and virulent poisons, and are, in addition, almost untraceable. They yield no known reactions.”
“The secret of them would be worth money, then?”
“To unscrupulous persons, yes.”
“And you suspect—whom?”
The doctor shrugged his massive shoulders.
“As far as I can tell, the house was not entered forcibly from the outside. That seems to point to some member of my household, and yet I cannot believe—” He broke off abruptly, then began again, his face very grave.
“ Mr. Blunt, I must place myself in your hands unreservedly. I dare not go to the police in the matter. Of my three servants I am almost entirely sure. They have served me long and faithfully. Still, one never knows. Then I have living with me my two nephews, Bertram and Henry. Henry is a good boy—a very good boy—he has never caused me any anxiety, an excellent hardworking young fellow. Bertram, I regret to say, is of quite a different character—wild, extravagant, and persistently idle.”
“I see,” said Tommy thoughtfully. “You suspect your nephew Bertram of being mixed up in this business. Now I don’t agree with you. I suspect the good boy—Henry.”
“But why?”