“There's no chemistry in it. I gave you the key to it at the time. Then there's other evidence. Young Hassendean was a careless worker. Everyone agreed on that; and his notebook confirmed it. Next, there's what Miss Hailsham said about hyoscine, which is more or less common knowledge, nowadays, of course. And there's young Hassendean's interference in the serving of coffee at Heatherfield, that night. Finally, there's what the maid said about Mrs. Silverdale's appearance when she was going out of the house. Put all these points together, and I'll engage to satisfy a jury that young Hassendean administered the hyoscine to Mrs. Silverdale in her coffee, with a definite purpose—but not murder—in view.”
“I'll need to think over all that, sir. You seem pretty sure about it.”
“I'm practically certain. Now look at the business from another stand-point. Who had a grudge against the two victims, either separately or together?”
“Silverdale, obviously.”
“Obviously, as you say. That's if you take them together, of course. Now for a final problem. Who is Mr. Justice? He seems to be in the know, somehow. If we could lay hands on him, we might be near the centre of things. He knew before anyone else that something had happened at the bungalow. He knew about the hyoscine at the Institute—although as Silverdale's a fairly well-recognised authority on alkaloids, that might have been just a shot aimed on chance. Anyhow, look at it as you choose, Mr. Justice has information, and he seems to have a motive. Who is he, can you guess?”
“Somebody who won't come out into the open until he's dragged there, evidently. It might be an unwilling accomplice, sir.”
“That's possible. Anyone else?”
“It might be Spratton. He's got an interest in establishing that it was a case of murder and not suicide.”
“Obviously true. Anyone else?”
“I can't think of anyone else who would fit the case, sir. By the way, I've got the originals of these advertisements—the code ones. I sent down to the newspaper offices and got hold of them.”