"Yes. Which the murderer wanted us to make. And which was as neat as anything you ever saw.
"Y'see, the murderer knew about that pin-jabbing episode. It was manna from heaven. So the murderer simply dropped a rusty pin on the dressing table, did a certain thing on the followin' day, and let nature take its course.
"Any doctor, hearin' the circumstances, seeing the symptoms, and inevitably coming across that pin, would be bound to diagnose tetanus. When Mrs. Fane died, it would be a regrettable accident. Richard Rich, the disgraced one, would again be held responsible. His carelessness would be supposed to have done it. There would be no suspicion and no post-mortem. Consequently…"
Courtney passed a hand across his forehead.
"Wait! For the love of Mike, wait! Then what was wrong with the pin Rich jabbed in her arm?"'
"Nothing."
"Nothing?"
H.M. seemed bothered by an invisible fly.
"Haven't you guessed it yet, son?" he inquired. "What ailed Mrs. Fane wasn't tetanus at all. It was strychnine poisoning."