“I thought at first,” he added, “that we had at last a genuine ‘poisoned needle’ case. You see, that looked like it. But I have made all the tests for curare and strychnin without results.”
At the mere suggestion, a procession of hypodermic-needle and white-slavery stories flashed before me.
“But,” objected Kennedy, “clearly this was not a case of kidnaping. It is a case of murder. Have you tested for the ordinary poisons?”
Doctor Leslie shook his head. “There was no poison,” he said, “absolutely none that any of our tests could discover.”
Kennedy bent over and squeezed out a few drops of liquid from the wound on a microscope slide, and covered them.
“You have not identified her yet,” he added, looking up. “I think you will find, Leslie, that there is a Señora Herreria registered at the Prince Henry who is missing, and that this woman will agree with the description of her. Anyhow, I wish you would look it up and let me know.”
Half an hour later, Kennedy was preparing to continue his studies with the microscope when Doctor Bernardo entered. He seemed most solicitous to know what progress was being made on the case, and, although Kennedy did not tell much, still he did not discourage conversation on the subject.
When we came in the night before, Craig had unwrapped and tossed down the Japanese sword and the Ainu bow and arrow on a table, and it was not long before they attracted Bernardo’s attention.
“I see you are a collector yourself,” he ventured, picking them up.
“Yes,” answered Craig, offhand; “I picked them up yesterday at Sato’s. You know the place?”