“No, I’ve told the police everything,” replied Ted wearily. “I know they think that Dad committed suicide. I believe they want people to think so, so that there won’t be another undetected murder up against them. But I know he didn’t. Dad wasn’t the sort of man to do a thing like that. I know he got a bit tight sometimes, but why shouldn’t he? It never did him or anybody else any harm. But even when he was tight he never got morbid, like some fellows do. Besides, he never used one of them syringe things. I don’t suppose he’d ever seen one in his life, and he wouldn’t know how to use it. No, Dad was murdered, right enough, though I’m blest if I can see how it was done.”

“Can’t you help us, Mr. Ludgrove?” broke in Ivy. “Surely there must be some way of finding out who killed Daddy and Ted’s father. It must have been some lunatic, for no sane person could possibly have a grudge against either of them.”