When Miss Silver had elicited that Mrs. Latter was the only one of the household who took Turkish coffee, and that in fact only one other person had taken coffee at all-that the Turkish coffee was prepared by the cook in the kitchen, a drop of vanilla added, and the cup placed together with a sugar-basin and a miniature decanter of cognac upon a salver in the pantry where every member of the household could have had access to it, she shook her head slowly and said,
“A very confusing incident. When was the next attack?”
“On the following day, after lunch.”
“Was it more severe, or less?”
“About the same.”
“Did you witness the attack?”
“Yes, I did. She was very sick, poor girl.”
Miss Silver was knitting rapidly.
“But she was all right a little while afterwards? There were no ill effects?”
“No, thank God.”
“Now, Mr. Latter-what did your wife eat at lunch that the rest of the party did not?”
Jimmy rumpled his hair again.
“That’s what’s so puzzling-she didn’t have anything.”
“No coffee?”
“No.”
“Nothing to drink?”
“She doesn’t drink at meals. Slimming, you know-but she’s got a lovely figure-she doesn’t need to.”
The ribbing on Derek’s stocking was more than an inch deep. The needles twinkled briskly.
“Mr. Latter, will you tell me just what you had to eat?”
Jimmy rubbed his nose.
“Well now, let me see if I can remember. I ought to be able to, because I went over it with Minnie to see if there was anything which would account for Lois being upset, but there wasn’t. There was cold lamb and salad-lettuce, beetroot and tomato, and potatoes in their jackets. Then there was a cheese savoury, but Lois didn’t have any of that-and custard-glasses of fruit salad in syrup. She had one of those and so did I, and so did Ellie, and Antony, and Julia.”
“They were separate custard-glasses?”
“Yes.”
“Who served them?”
“Lois had them in front of her. She took one, and helped the others.”
“She helped herself?”
“Oh, yes, definitely.”
“Was there any reason why she should have taken one glass rather than another?”
He dropped the keys again. This time he let them lie.
“Yes, there was,” he said. “There was only one without cream. I never thought about that-she doesn’t take cream.”
Miss Silver stopped knitting for a moment. She looked at him gravely.
“Who would have access to these glasses of fruit after the cook had prepared them?”
He plunged into explanations.
“ Antony -my cousin Antony Latter-he collected the meat-plates and took them out. We haven’t a proper staff at present, so we wait on ourselves… Julia and Ellie, my stepsisters- Mrs. Street -and Miss Vane-they were in and out… And so was Minnie. I didn’t want her to do anything, because there were plenty without her, but she would go. I think Julia brought in the savoury, and Minnie the custard-glasses. She will always be doing something-she’s so unselfish.”
Miss Silver laid her knitting down on the arm of her chair and rose to her feet.
“I think, Mr. Latter, that you had better give me the particulars of your household before we go any farther. I find there is a tendency to confusion.”
As he picked up his keys and followed her to the writing-table he had a guilty conviction that the confusion could be nobody’s fault but his own. If he had not had a stepmother who had remarried, it would all be so much easier to explain, but still there would have been Minnie who was no relation at all-
At this point he became hopelessly fogged, because it occurred to him that if it hadn’t been for Marcia and her twins, Minnie never would have been imported into his household. He found himself quite unable to think of the last twenty-five years without her, and quite bewildered at the prospect of having to face a future in which she had no part. He watched gloomily whilst Miss Silver took out a bright red copybook, wrote a heading, and waited, pencil poised, for the particulars she desired.
It cannot be said that the manner in which he produced them was calculated to clarify the situation, but Miss Silver was experienced and firm. When he digressed she brought him back, when he became involved she picked up a thread and disentangled it. In the end she had everyone written down neatly in her red copybook:
Mr. James Latter-51-of Latter End, Rayle.
Mrs. Latter-37-formerly Mrs. Doubleday-two years married.
Antony Latter-28-first cousin-recently demobilized-about to enter family publishing business as a junior partner.
Mrs. Street amp; Miss Julia Vane-24-twin daughters of Mr. Latter’s stepmother.
Mrs. Street has a husband in hospital at Crampton. Miss Vane is engaged in literary work in London, but has been a frequent visitor during the past fortnight. Before that there was a breach.
Miss Minnie Mercer-48-daughter of the late Dr. John Mercer, family physician to the Latter household, which she entered on her father’s death, just after Mrs. Vane returned to Latter End as a widow for the second time. The twins were born a few months later.
Mrs. Maniple-70-cook-housekeeper-in her fifty-fourth year of service at Latter End.
Poly Pell-17-kitchenmaid.
Mrs. Huggins-occasional daily help.
Not a very long list, and not so very many particulars, but it had taken some time to get them.
Miss Silver sat up straight with the pencil in her hand and gave a slight preliminary cough.
“And now, Mr. Latter, will you tell me if any of these people have a grudge against your wife?”
“How could they have?”
“That is for you to say. You mention, for instance, that Miss Vane, who is now a frequent visitor, had not been so for some time past-that strained relations had in fact existed. With whom had the quarrel been? With your wife?”
“Well, there wasn’t exactly a quarrel. I must have given you a wrong impression. I hope you didn’t write it down. It was just they didn’t hit it off-at least Julia didn’t. Lois was an angel about it-never bore any malice-always said Julia would come round. And she has.”
“There was no quarrel?”
He shook his head.
“Nothing to quarrel about. I’m very fond of Julia-always have been-but she flies off the handle. Very warmhearted girl, but impulsive-doesn’t stop to think. Ellie’s quite different-gentle, you know. Bad luck for her, her husband losing a leg like that…” He wandered off into a life history of Ronnie Street, from which Miss Silver presently recalled him.
“Quite so, Mr. Latter. I hope that he will soon be sufficiently restored to take up the appointment of which you speak. Now about Miss Mercer. You say she is leaving your household after twenty-five years in it. Is that in consequence of any breach with your wife?”
Jimmy showed considerable distress.
“Oh, no-of course not. She wants to go.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“That is not an answer to my question, Mr. Latter. Why does she want to go?”
He ran a hand through his hair.
“I don’t know. And that’s what’s worrying me-it’s not only the time she’s been with us, but all the time before. You see, my mother died when I was born, and my father couldn’t bear it. He went off abroad-travelling about, you know. Well, Mrs. Mercer took me on. She’d just lost a child. Minnie was born three years later. My father didn’t marry again till I was fifteen. I was with the Mercers till I went to school, and for the holidays after that. Minnie is all the same as my sister.”
Miss Silver’s small nondescript eyes regarded him intelligently.
“Sisters and wives do not always agree, Mr. Latter.”
Jimmy rubbed his nose.
“No-no. Can’t think why women don’t hit it off. Not that Lois-besides you couldn’t quarrel with Minnie-nobody could. She’s one of those quiet, gentle girls-always doing things for other people-never thinking about herself. But Lois says she gets on her nerves.” He rubbed in a most scarifying manner. “Why should she?”
“I do not know, Mr. Latter. It is quite possible that Mrs. Latter does not know either. But you have said quite enough to account for Miss Mercer’s decision to go elsewhere.”
He looked wretched.
“I asked her point-blank why she wanted to go, and I couldn’t get to the bottom of it. You’ve only to look at her to see how unhappy she is. Why, I begged her to stay, and she only turned as white as a sheet and went out of the room.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Well, Mr. Latter, there are two members of your household who are not on very good terms with your wife. What about Mrs. Street?”
It took Jimmy Latter about a quarter of an hour to explain how angelic Lois had been to Ellie-“looked after her like a mother. And of course, as she says, it would never do to have that poor chap Ronnie Street in the house-Ellie would only wear herself out.”
Miss Silver mentally added Ellie Street to the list of those who had no great reason to love Mrs. Latter. Her enquiry as to the attitude of Mr. Antony Latter also provided some grounds for speculation.
“Oh, he was quite a pal of Lois’-knew her before I did. In fact I don’t mind saying I got the wind up about him. Of course he’s a bit younger, but she doesn’t look her age-not anything like. And there they were, always about together- well, I give you my word, I didn’t think I’d got a chance. Antony ’s one of those clever chaps. I never thought she’d look at me, but she did-I can’t think why. Anyhow he’s been off abroad for the last two years-just got demobilized. I told you about that.”
Miss Silver had one more question.
“Your cook, Mrs. Maniple-has she any reason to dislike your wife?”
“Oh, no.”
“She is not under notice to leave?”
Jimmy looked quite horrified.
“Of course not! Why, she saw me christened.”
Miss Silver wrote a few more lines in the red copybook. Then, closing it, she looked up and said,
“I would like you to tell me a little more about your wife and these attacks she has been having. The two you have described occurred about a fortnight ago. I imagine that you would not have come to see me unless something had occurred since then. Now that I am clear as to your household, I should like you to tell me of these more recent happenings. When, for instance, did Mrs. Latter begin to think that someone was trying to poison her?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“When was the next incident, Mr. Latter?”
Jimmy rubbed his nose.
“Well, I don’t know. I’ve been away-had to go down to Devonshire to settle up the affairs of an old cousin of mine. Lois didn’t say anything when I came back, but now she says she didn’t feel at all well once or twice whilst I was away. To tell you the honest truth, I didn’t take a great deal of notice- I mean, I thought something had just happened to upset her. People do get upset-don’t they? That first time, for instance, we had had a very good sort of dish with mushrooms in it- well, you know there might have been a bad one. And the second time there was the fruit salad-all dodged up with kümmel-I mean, it might have upset her. And when I came home, there she was, looking the picture of health, so I thought perhaps she’d just got it a bit on her mind because of what this Memnon chap had said to her.”
“Very natural, Mr. Latter.”
“But the day after I came back she was very bad again, after drinking her coffee.”
“The Turkish coffee which was made specially for her?”
“Yes. She was sipping it, and we were talking, when all at once she said, ‘There’s something wrong with this coffee,’ and she put down the cup and ran out of the room. I went after her, and she was very sick, poor girl. When I could leave her I went back to get hold of the coffee cup. It had been taken through into the pantry, but the dregs were there. I took it over to Crampton in the morning to a big chemist’s shop. There was plenty left at the bottom of the cup, and they got it analysed.”
“Well, Mr. Latter?”
He looked at her with puzzled eyes.
“They didn’t find anything.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Is your wife imaginative-neurotic?”
“I shouldn’t have said so.”
“There are two possibilities in this case. One is that Mrs. Latter has induced these attacks by becoming obsessed with the idea of poison. The other-” She paused for a moment. “Mr. Latter, has it occurred to you that the dregs in the coffee cup might have been tampered with?”
He appeared to be very much startled.
“How do you mean-tampered with?”
She replied with gravity.
“If a noxious drug had been introduced into the coffee, the dregs might have been thrown away, the cup washed out, and a little more coffee poured in.”
He stared at her.
“That’s what Lois said when I came back and told her about the chemist. She said the cup might have been washed, and anyone might have done it.”
“Who were present, Mr. Latter?”
“ Antony, Julia, Ellie, Minnie, Lois, and myself.”
“And Mrs. Maniple and the girl Polly in the kitchen?”
“Yes.”
“Who took the cup out to the pantry?”
“Minnie did.”
“Could any of the others have had the opportunity of washing it?”
He looked wretchedly unhappy.
“Minnie didn’t wash it-I asked her. I asked them all, because Lois said that one of them must have washed it. But they all said they hadn’t.”
“What did your wife say to that?”
“She said that any of them could have done it.”
“Was that the case?”
“I suppose it was. Ellie went out to speak to Mrs. Maniple, and Julia went to look for her. Antony went with her.”
“And were they together all the time?”
He rubbed his nose.
“Noy they weren’t. There was a lot of coming and going. As a matter of fact it’s all very worrying and uncomfortable, because Lois has got it into her head that someone is trying to poison her, and it means she thinks it’s someone in the family.”
Miss Silver closed her eyes for a moment. She had seen photographs in the picture papers of the beautiful Mrs. Latter.
She was trying to recall those photographs. She looked at Jimmy and said,
“I have seen pictures of your wife. I should like to refresh my memory. Have you by any chance a photograph?”
He took a folding case out of his breast pocket and handed it to her with a look of anxious pride. The portrait inside was a miniature on ivory. He said as he watched her scrutiny,
“It’s exactly like.”
Miss Silver looked at the miniature for quite a long time. During that time the idea of Lois Latter as the subject of an hysterical fancy faded from her mind. This was the portrait of a resolute and strong-willed woman. The line of cheek and jaw, the moulding of the chin, the curve of the lips were eloquent of this. The beautiful red mouth was hard. The eyes, for all their beauty and their brightness, were hard. This was a woman who knew what she wanted and knew how to get it.
The case was handed back across the table with the remark that it appeared to be a speaking likeness. Then, whilst Jimmy was agreeing, she fixed her serious gaze upon him and said,
“Would you like me to tell you what I really think, Mr. Latter?”
“Yes, yes-of course I would.”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Before I do so, will you tell me if there were any ill effects from this last attack? For instance, did your wife rejoin the party in the drawing-room as she did on a previous occasion?”
“Yes, she did,” said Jimmy. “She seemed to be quite all right again, I’m thankful to say.”
Miss Silver spoke with authority.
“Then I do not believe that an attempt has been made to poison her. I think that someone has been playing a trick. A very wrong and spiteful trick of course, but not, I think, intended to have any serious consequences. The symptoms you have described could be produced by a harmless emetic such as ipecacuanha, a drug which is to be found in most households, and whose sweetish, not unpleasant taste would be readily disguised by fruit salad or coffee-especially if, as in this instance, sugar and a liqueur were added.”
She saw his face revert so suddenly to its natural boyishness as to suggest a ludicrous comparison with one of those rubber masks which can be drawn out to look lugubrious or compressed into jollity. Miss Silver dismissed this irrelevancy from her thought, and answered his smile with one of her own.
He said, “That’s marvellous-” and then broke off. “But there isn’t anyone who would play a trick like that. I mean, who would?”
Miss Silver coughed.
“Do you really wish me to answer that question, Mr. Latter?”
He stared.
“Why, yes-of course.”
“Then I should have to come down and stay in the house.”
“Would you?”
She inclined her head.
“If you wish me to take up the case professionally.”
He pushed back his chair, appeared to be about to get up, but changed his mind.
“Well, I don’t know-” he said in a doubtful tone. “No- I don’t know at all. I can’t believe that anyone in the family would do a thing like that-I can’t really. I don’t feel I can bring a detective in on them-I mean, it would upset the whole bag of tricks.”
“It would not be necessary for them to know that I was a detective.”
The colour came up into his face.
“Oh, I couldn’t do that,” he said quickly. He got to his feet. “It’s been very good of you to let me come and see you. It’s relieved my mind no end-it really has.” His voice became tinged with embarrassment. “Will you tell me what I- I mean I owe you something-besides being awfully grateful-don’t I?”
Her smile had the effect of making him feel about ten years old.
“Not unless you decide to employ me, Mr. Latter.” She got up and put out her hand. “May I give you a word of advice?”
“I should be very grateful.”
He took her hand for a moment, and found it cool and small in his. She withdrew it and said,
“Do not try to combine in one house, people who are not really congenial to one another. Until your marriage, Miss Mercer was to all intents and purposes the mistress of the house. She is now in a different, and possibly difficult, position. I think her decision to go elsewhere is wise. Pray do not attempt to dissuade her. In the same way with your two young stepsisters, Mrs. Street and Miss Vane-until you married, Latter End was their home. It is unwise for them to continue to look upon it in that light. Encourage them in every way you can, even if possible financially, to make homes and centres of interest for themselves-” She paused, and added, “You might, I think, consider pensioning your old housekeeper, if it could be kindly done. So old a servant does not always fit in with a new mistress, and after more than fifty years of service she has earned a rest. There is one thing more. I should strongly advise Mrs. Latter to avoid eating or drinking anything which is separately or especially prepared for herself. Goodbye, Mr. Latter.”