Dr. Ringwood stared.
“Why?” he inquired.
“Because if she'd shirked her job and left those coffee-cups unwashed, it might have saved us a lot of bother. But when I looked over the scullery, everything had been washed and put away.”
“Well . . . you don't seem to miss much,” the doctor confessed. “I suppose it was what I repeated to you about Mrs. Silverdale looking queer when she came out of the drawing-room—that put you on the track? You were thinking of drugs, even then?”
“That was it,” Sir Clinton answered. Then, after a moment he added: “And I've got a fair notion of what drug was used, too.”
Chapter VI.
The Nine Possible Solutions
The police machinery under Sir Clinton's control always worked smoothly, even when its routine was disturbed by such unpredictable events as murders. Almost automatically, it seemed, that big, flexible engine had readjusted itself to the abnormal; the bodies of Hassendean and the maid at Heatherfield had been taken into its charge and all arrangements had been made for dealing with them; Heatherfield itself had been occupied by a constabulary picket; the photographic department had been called in to take “metric photographs” showing the exact positions of the bodies in the two houses; inquiries had ramified through the whole district as to the motor-traffic during the previous night; and a wide-flung intelligence system was unobtrusively collecting every scrap of information which might have a bearing on this suddenly presented problem. Finally, the organism had projected a tentacle to the relief of Inspector Flamborough, marooned at the bungalow, and had replaced him by a police picket while arrangements were being made to remove Mrs. Silverdale's body and to map the premises.
“Anything fresh, Inspector?” Sir Clinton demanded, glancing up from his papers as his subordinate entered the room.
“One or two more points cleared up, sir,” Flamborough announced, with a certain satisfaction showing on his good-humoured face. “First of all, I tried the lever of the window-hasp for finger-prints. There weren't any. So that's done with. I could see you didn't lay much stress on that part of the business, sir.”
The Chief Constable's nod gave acquiescence to this, and he waited for Flamborough to continue.