“The houseman took it home after you were summoned,” Orbit replied.
“But it was unharmed? The child was seated here beside the nurse?”
“Oh, no!” Orbit interrupted. “While I played it had climbed down and was amusing itself over by that palm.”
“A miraculous escape!” the doctor exclaimed. “Had it remained here it would undoubtedly have met with the same death which overcame the nurse. Was that window open just as it is now, the one directly behind those plants back of the bench?”
The doctor had never taken his eyes from Orbit’s face and it seemed to McCarty that his tones had quickened.
“Just as you see it now,” affirmed Orbit. “Nothing has been disturbed or changed in any way. But, Doctor, are you positive of your diagnosis? I am not questioning your knowledge but this terrible affair is utterly inexplicable to me! I heard nothing, saw no one! When I seated myself before the organ Lucette was to all casual appearances a perfectly normal young woman glowing with health; when I turned from it a few minutes later she was stretched there dead! The child was absolutely unconcerned and I am sure she had noticed nothing; she is a shy little creature, uneasy in the presence of strangers, and if any one had stolen in and approached the nurse it seems incredible that she would not have cried out or run to me. Thank heaven she is old enough to talk, we may be able to learn something from her later.”
“That is an important point,” conceded the doctor. “When you approached the body did you notice any peculiar odor on the air? It would have been pungent, irritating, almost choking.—Think, Mr. Orbit! You must have been conscious of some foreign, highly chemicalized odor, even if it were almost instantly dissipated.”
There was a pause and then Orbit slowly shook his head.
“I was conscious of no such odor,” he replied. “It is odd, for I am peculiarly sensitive to things of that sort but then I was overwhelmed with the shock of what had taken place. As soon as I realized the girl was dead I called the servants—they might have detected this odor you speak of.—Jean! Ching Lee!”
The two advanced reluctantly from the hall, but in answer to the physician’s queries supplemented by more brusk ones from the inspector, they could reply only in the negative. Jean had been polishing some brasses in a nearby room and heard Mr. Orbit call Ching Lee; he had thought it strange that he did not ring as usual, and when he called again there was something in his voice that made Jean think he needed help. He rushed in and saw the girl stretched upon the bench and Mr. Orbit standing there with little Maude in his arms. Ching Lee had entered just behind him and their stammered stories corroborated that of their employer in every detail. They had noticed no odor but that of the plants all about and they were quite certain they had seen no stranger lurking in the immediate vicinity, to say nothing of getting into the house itself. They had both been on the lower floor all the afternoon.