Finally the doctor straightened.
“This woman has been killed by the inhalation of some gas, some poisonous fumes, but of what nature I am unable to determine,” he announced, gazing from Orbit to the inspector with keen incisiveness. “I have never encountered a similar case but the symptoms admit of no other diagnosis. They are like and yet unlike some of those I noted on the battlefields of France a few years ago, but undoubtedly death was induced by asphyxiation of an exceedingly uncommon form; the autopsy will reveal its nature.”
The inhalation of poisonous fumes! McCarty heard a faint but high-pitched ejaculation in the hall, in Ching Lee’s chattering tones. Involuntarily his eyes strayed to the distorted, bulbous, luridly glowing orchid, which seemed in the shadows to be moving, reaching out toward them! Could it have been the “breath of death” indeed? He felt the nerves crawl beneath his skin and his scalp tingled, but the matter-of-fact voice of the inspector recalled him to stern facts.
“How long would you say she’d been dead, Doctor?”
“Not much more than half an hour; the body is still warm. You have taken charge here?”
The inspector nodded.
“Then I may suggest that you notify your medical examiner without delay. I understand that this death is—er—a mystery, Mr. Orbit?”
“An unaccountable one, Doctor Allonby. I was here in the room at the time it occurred, playing the organ over there and Lucette and the baby—this young girl was the nurse for Mrs. Bellamy’s child next door—were seated on this bench.”
The doctor started and asked quickly:
“The child! What has become of it?”