Kennedy smiled, thanked him and handed back the box. It was a perplexing piece of information. If Shattuck was known to have had in his possession some of the fatal Calabar beans, what interpretation could be placed on it? Or was it that Chase was working to protect his client and save her—at any cost and in spite of her own wishes?
We left Chase, and Kennedy hastened back to the laboratory, where at once he set to work with a paper and pencil, writing words that seemed utterly disconnected, while I stood about self-consciously, watching him.
"Please, Walter," he exclaimed at length, a little bit nervously, "you are distracting me. You see," he added, briskly, "that interview with Chase has reminded me of something. Why was he in Shattuck's apartment? For what? When? I don't need his help, of course. But he has made me think that I can't afford to let Mrs. Wilford get out of my sight too long. If I ever get at the bottom of this thing, it must be through study of her, first. I think I shall be ready soon to visit her again. And this time, I'm sure, I shall find out what I want. I've a new plan. Don't disturb me for a few minutes."
I turned my back and pretended to be busy over some work of my own, though out of the corner of my eye I watched him. Craig was at work over a sheet of paper and I saw him writing down one word after another, changing them, adding to them, taking away words and substituting others.
Altogether, it was a strange performance and I had not the faintest idea what it was all about until he was willing to reveal it to me. Meanwhile a thousand ideas whirled through my head. Chase's revelation had put a new face on matters. One by one, we were finding out that each of our suspects knew first of all more about the Freud theory of dreams than we anticipated. Now it would appear that each was more or less familiar with the Calabar bean, or at least with its derivative, physostigmine. Even Vina, being a doctor's wife, might have known. Though we were getting more facts, they were not, so far as I could interpret them, pointing more definitely in any one direction.
When Craig had finished, he copied the words off on my typewriter, in a long column, one word on each line, and, after the long vertical list, he left two columns blank:
| 1 | 2 | 3 |
| foot | ||
| gray | ||
| dream | ||
| struggle | ||
| ship | ||
| bean | ||
| lion | ||
| book | ||
| false | ||
| voyage | ||
| money | ||
| sad | ||
| quarrel | ||
| marry | ||
| bull | ||
| sleep | ||
| foolish | ||
| despise | ||
| finger | ||
| friend | ||
| serpent | ||
| face | ||
| chair | ||
| bottle | ||
| glass |
"Now," he remarked, as he finished and saw my questioning look, "let me get my delicate split-second watch from this cabinet, and I'm ready for a new and final test of Honora Wilford. Let's go."