Unwillingly, and only after a repeated order, the man went.
“No, ma’am,” he said, on his return, addressing Eunice. “None of Mr. Embury’s things are gone. All his pins and cuff-links are in their boxes and his watch is on the chiffonier where he always leaves it.
“Then,” resumed Hendricks, “what motive can you suggest, Dr. Crowell?”
“It’s not for me, sir, to go so far as that. I see it this way: I’m positive that the man was killed by foul means. I’m sure he was poisoned, though I can’t say how. I—you see, I haven’t been Medical Examiner very long—and I never had such a hard duty to perform before. But it is my duty and I must do it. I must report to headquarters.”
“You shan’t!” Eunice flew across the room and stood before him, her whole body quivering with intense rage. “I forbid it! I am Sanford Embury’s wife, and as such I have rights that shall not be imposed upon! I will have no police dragged into this matter. Were my husband really murdered—which, of course, he was not—I would rather never have the murderer discovered or punished, than to have the degradation, the horrors of—a police case!”
The infinite scorn with which she brought out the last phrase showed her earnestness and her determination to have the matter pushed no further.
But Examiner Crowell was by no means the inefficient little man he looked. His eyes took on a new glitter, and narrowed as they looked at the angry woman before him.
“I am sorry, Mrs. Embury,” he said, gently, but with a strong decision in his tone, “but your wishes cannot be considered. The law is inexorable. The mystery of this case is deepened rather than lessened by your extraordinary behavior and I must—”
But his brave manner quailed before the lightning of Eunice’s eyes.
“What!” she cried; “you defy me! You will call the police against my desire—my command! You will not, sir! I forbid it!”