“Is it your impression that he came by his death unduly?”
“I have harbored such a suspicion.”
“Whom do you suspect?”
Pelham’s face flushed, but his eyes looked straight into Tarbot’s.
“Perhaps you can answer that,” he replied; “but whatever the cause of death, I wish to have all the circumstances relating to the child’s last illness closely investigated.”
“I do not know what more you can do. I signed the certificate. I am ready to abide by my decision. I certified that Piers Pelham died from aortic disease. My opinion was corroborated by Dr. Williamson and Sir Richard Spears. In what position are you that you place your opinion against three such authorities?”
“I am in no position whatever, but still I hold my own thoughts, and I wish to have something done.”
“What?”
“To have the medicine which the boy last took analyzed.”
“Talking of that,” said Tarbot, “don’t forget that you yourself gave that last dose of medicine to the boy. You went to fetch the bottle, you took the medicine to the child, he received it from your hands.”