"I'm sure I'll do my best, sir!"
"Good. Now, ma'am, you think Mrs. Fane nearly died of lockjaw. Don't you?"
"Seeing it was you who brought her round, sir…"
"Well, she didn't. She was deliberately poisoned with some stuff called strychnine. That poison was put into a grapefruit, a piece of grapefruit, that you prepared for her about four o'clock on Thursday afternoon. Remember?"
Dead silence, except for the kitchen clock.
If this statement had been made by anybody else in Mrs. Propper's acquaintance, the result would probably have been fury or hysterics. As it was, she merely blinked back at him. It took some time before she even understood. But he ought to know. He was the Big Doctor.
Nor was the effect on Ann Browning less pronounced. Courtney glanced sideways at her tense arms and profile. Otherwise everyone in the kitchen stood rigid.
"God save us," muttered Mrs. Propper, getting her breath, "I-"
"Easy now! We're not suggestin' you had anything to do with it. We're sure you didn't. All we say is that somebody tampered with the grapefruit. The poison might 'a' been in the form of a liquid, or of a white powder. You do remember, don't you?"
Mrs. Propper swallowed.