Mrs. Baker, still rather distrustful, let herself be led back to her couch. But this time she did not attempt a statuesque pose. She sat bolt upright, turning her head from one to the other of us like a nervous robin.
“You haven’t missed anything else, you say,” Tarleton began, “so that it looks as though the thief must have been someone who knew what he was taking. The question is how many of your friends knew about this poison?”
“Not one of them,” was the positive answer. “I have never mentioned it to a soul.”
“Think,” the doctor persisted courteously. “Remember that Captain Armstrong mentions his discovery of it in his book, Across Sumatra. Surely some of your acquaintances must have read the book and talked to you about it?”
The little woman began to show signs of misgiving.
“I can’t remember,” she confessed.
She had shown us both already that memory was not her strong point. The consultant prompted her gently.
“The person most likely to be interested in such a thing as a new poison would be a scientist or a medical man.”
Mrs. Baker’s eyes sought the floor. “I am positive that my doctor knew nothing about it. Besides, I haven’t seen him for the last six months—not since my brother’s death.” The disclaimer was made in a rather shaken voice, however.
“But a lady like you must have some acquaintances in the scientific world,” the examiner insinuated. “I was under the impression that I had heard of you as a patroness of science.”