“Y—es. Or had read it up,” said Hannasyde. “As far as I can see it ought not to be a very difficult matter—given a little chemical knowledge—to prepare nicotine. What did you get out of the servants, Hemingway?”
“Plenty,” answered the Sergeant promptly. “A sight too much for my taste. According to them any one of the family would have been glad of the chance to do old Matthews in. Proper sort of tyrant he seems to have been. The cook thinks it was Mrs Matthews, on account of the old man wanting to ship his nephew off to Brazil, but what's the use of that? I don't say it isn't good psychology. It is. But so far I don't get any sort of line on the Matthews dame. No evidence. Then there's a classy bit of goods, calling herself Rose Daventry. If you was to ask me what I think about her, Super, I'd tell you only that I wouldn't like to use a word that might shock the Inspector.”
Inspector Davis grinned. “I know her,” he said.
“Well, she thinks the niece did it, because her uncle didn't cotton to her marrying the doctor. At least, that's the reason she gave me, but what she meant was that Miss Stella Mathews makes a lot more work in the house than little Rosebud likes. After that I had a go at the under-housemaid. Country girl, name of Stevens. She doesn't think anything, never having been brought up to it. Ruling out a couple of gardeners and the kitchen maid, there's the butler. I've got his evidence taped for you, Chief, and it's the best of a bad lot, which is all I'll say for it. Main points being that when he went up to bed a few minutes after eleven he saw Miss Harriet Matthews come out of her brother's room.”
“Did he indeed?” said Hannasyde. “That's interesting. She gave me to understand that she didn't see Matthews, after he went up to bed.”
“Well, if you're pleased, Super, it's O.K. by me,” said the Sergeant. “But if you know what motive she had for doing the old boy in, you know a sight more than I could find out.”
“She's a very eccentric kind of woman,” said the Inspector thoughtfully. “Regular cough-drop.”
“Well, I'm bound to say I haven't so far come across a case of anyone doing a murder just because they were eccentric,” said the Sergeant, “but that isn't to say I won't. Maybe you'll like my next bit of evidence. According to Beecher, there was a brand-new bottle of some tonic or other blown over into the washbasin in Matthews' bathroom, and consequently smashed. Miss Harriet found it, and disposed of the bits of glass by dropping them into the kitchen-stove. Seems a funny thing to do, to my way of thinking, but the servants made nothing of it. Said it was the sort of silly trick she would get up to. My last titbit is highly scandalous. They say the doctor drinks. Beecher-the-Butler has it firmly wedged in his head that Matthews had got something on the doctor, but unless it was him being over-fond of the bottle he doesn't know what it may have been.”
“The doctor gave me a perfectly straightforward account of that,” replied Hannasyde. “Matthews appears to have threatened to broadcast the fact that Fielding's father died in an Inebriates' Home if Fielding didn't leave his niece alone.”
The Sergeant opened his eyes at that. “What things they do get up to in the suburbs!” he remarked admiringly. “Now, some people might call that blackmail, Super.”