A Pocket Full of Rye Read Online Free PDF

last night—”
    â€œNo.” Inspector Neele interrupted her. “It would not be a question of dinner last night.”
    â€œI thought the onset of food poisoning could sometimes be delayed as much as twenty-four hours.”
    â€œNot in this case . . . Will you tell me exactly what Mr. Fortescue ate and drank before leaving the house this morning?”
    â€œHe had early tea brought to his room at eight o’clock. Breakfast was at a quarter past nine. Mr. Fortescue, as I have told you, had scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee, toast and marmalade.”
    â€œAny cereal?”
    â€œNo, he didn’t like cereals.”
    â€œThe sugar for the coffee—it is lump sugar or granulated?”
    â€œLump. But Mr. Fortescue did not take sugar in his coffee.”
    â€œWas he in the habit of taking any medicines in the morning? Salts? A tonic? Some digestive remedy?”
    â€œNo, nothing of that kind.”
    â€œDid you have breakfast with him also?”
    â€œNo. I do not take meals with the family.”
    â€œWho was at breakfast?”
    â€œMrs. Fortescue. Miss Fortescue. Mrs. Val Fortescue. Mr. Percival Fortescue, of course, was away.”
    â€œAnd Mrs. and Miss Fortescue ate the same things for breakfast?”
    â€œMrs. Fortescue has only coffee, orange juice and toast, Mrs. Val and Miss Fortescue always eat a hearty breakfast. Besides eating scrambled eggs and cold ham, they would probably have a cereal as well. Mrs. Val drinks tea, not coffee.”
    Inspector Neele reflected for a moment. The opportunities seemed at least to be narrowing down. Three people and three people only had had breakfast with the deceased, his wife, his daughter and his daughter-in-law. Either of them might have seized an opportunity to add taxine to his cup of coffee. The bitterness of the coffee would have masked the bitter taste of the taxine. There was the early morning tea, of course, but Bernsdorff had intimated that the taste would be noticeable in tea. But perhaps, first thing in the morning, before the senses were alert . . . He looked up to find Mary Dove watching him.
    â€œYour questions about tonic and medicines seem to me rather odd, Inspector,” she said. “It seems to imply that either there was something wrong with a medicine, or that something had been added to it. Surely neither of those processes could be described as food poisoning.”
    Neele eyed her steadily.
    â€œI did not say—definitely—that Mr. Fortescue died of food poisoning. But some kind of poisoning. In fact—just poisoning.”
    She repeated softly: “Poisoning. . . .”
    She appeared neither startled nor dismayed, merely interested. Her attitude was of one sampling a new experience.
    In fact she said as much, remarking after a moment’s reflection: “I have never had anything to do with a poisoning case before.”
    â€œIt’s not very pleasant,” Neele informed her dryly.
    â€œNo—I suppose not. . . .”
    She thought about it for a moment and then looked up at him with a sudden smile.
    â€œI didn’t do it,” she said. “But I suppose everybody will tell you that!”
    â€œHave you any idea who did do it, Miss Dove?”
    She shrugged her shoulders.
    â€œFrankly, he was an odious man. Anybody might have done it.”
    â€œBut people aren’t poisoned just for being ‘odious,’ Miss Dove. There usually has to be a pretty solid motive.”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    She was thoughtful.
    â€œDo you care to tell me something about the household here?”
    She looked up at him. He was a little startled to find her eyes cool and amused.
    â€œThis isn’t exactly a statement you’re asking me to make, is it? No, it couldn’t be, because your sergeant is busy upsetting the domestic staff. I shouldn’t like to have what I say read out in court—but all the same I should rather like to say