The Perfect Poison Read Online Free PDF Page B

body?”
    She gave him a quizzical frown. “Well, yes, of course. How else could I assess the possibility of poison?”
    He was stunned. “Good Lord. I had no idea.”
    “No idea of what?”
    “I understood that Spellar occasionally asked you to consult but I did not realize that you were obliged to physically examine the bodies of the victims in order to give an opinion.”
    She raised her brows. “How did you think that I went about providing my consultations?”
    “I suppose I didn’t,” he admitted. “Think, that is. I just assumed that Spellar brought you some of the evidence. The poisoned cup, perhaps, or the victim’s clothing.”
    “I can see that you do not consider what I do for Inspector Spellar to be suitable work for a lady.”
    “I didn’t say that.”
    “No need.” She waved one hand, dismissing his attempt to vindicate himself. “I assure you that you are not alone in your view. No one, with the exception of Inspector Spellar, approves of what I do. Actually, I don’t think that Spellar entirely approves, either, but he is dedicated to his profession and, therefore, more than willing to take advantage of whatever assistance I can provide.”
    “Miss Bromley—”
    “Given my somewhat unusual family history, I am quite accustomed to disapproval.”
    “Damn it, Miss Bromley, you will not put words in my mouth.” He was on his feet before he realized what he was doing, flattening his palms on the desktop. “I am not passing judgment on you. Yes, I was astonished to discover that your consulting work requires you to view the bodies of the victims. You will concede that sort of thing is, generally speaking, a somewhat uncommon occupation for a lady.”
    “Is it?” She unclasped her hands and sat back quickly. “And just who do you think is usually responsible for attending to those who become gravely ill and die in the vast majority of households? Most people do not go to hospitals to die, sir. Most people die at home and it is women who are at the bedside when the end comes.”
    “We are talking about people who are murdered, not those who expire from natural causes.”
    “Do you think one sort of death more violent than the other? If that is so, then you have not been called upon to witness many passings. I assure you, a so-called natural death can be far more dreadful, more painful, more lingering than one brought on by a quick case of poison or a bullet to the head.”
    “Devil take it, I cannot believe I am engaged in this ridiculous argument. I did not come here to discuss your consulting work, Miss Bromley. I am here because you sent for me. I suggest we get on with our business.”
    She gave him a steely glare. “You’re the one who started the quarrel.”
    “The hell I did.”
    She blinked and angled her chin. “Do you always use that sort of language when you are in the company of a lady, sir? Or is it that you feel free to employ such colorful vocabulary because of the particular lady you happen to be with at the moment?”
    He smiled grimly. “My apologies, Miss Bromley. But I must admit that I’m surprised to learn that a lady who consults at murder scenes is shocked by a little rough language.”
    She matched his smile with a very chilly one of her own. “Are you implying that I am not a proper sort of lady?”
    He straightened abruptly, turned and stalked to the window. “This is the most bizarre conversation I have had in ages. Also the most pointless. If you will be so good as to tell me why you summoned me here today, perhaps we could get on with this meeting.”
    A sharp knock on the door interrupted him. He turned to see the housekeeper enter the room with a tray of tea things. Mrs. Shute glowered at him, letting him know in silent but no uncertain terms that she had overheard the heated discussion.
    “Thank you, Mrs. Shute,” Lucinda said smoothly, just as though she were not thoroughly annoyed with her visitor. “You may leave the tray on the table. I’ll