He did not speak for a moment or two, studying me in the meantime with thoughtful eyes that did not in the least see me.
“I should think that it would be hard to dispose of—though as to that——” He broke off abruptly. “Look here, Miss Keate, how is it that such a valuable thing is used with so little precaution against theft?”
“In some hospitals radium is guarded,” I explained. “There is one very large hospital, to which patients come from all over the world, where guards are placed in the sick-room whenever radium is used. But it was not deemed necessary here at St. Ann’s. Nothing of the kind has ever happened before and our class of patients is, as a rule, of the most respectable. St. Ann’s, you know, has really the best standing——” I stopped in the middle of my rather snooty remark as I saw the half smile on his face.
“Still it did happen,” he said softly.
“Yes,” I retorted. “And it is your business to recover it.”
His face sobered instantly.
“Not an easy task, Miss Keate,” he said at once and most amiably. “And I’m grateful for the help you give me. In return I shall tell you, since you ask it, that there are a few possible premises that interest me. You might give me your opinion of them. For one thing—we have found that there were three possible means of death, in or about Room 18. There was a revolver, ether, and a hypodermic syringe and enough morphine missing from the drug room to more than accomplish—what we believe it did accomplish. Three weapons where only one was necessary! Dr. Letheny met his death by a fourth means. Three weapons! Does that not indicate that there was more than one person interested in your patient’s death?”
“Three!” I gasped. “Three!” In consternation I went over the list of names of that dinner party of ill memory. “But there were only six of us at that dinner to whose personnel you limit your suspects.”
“Seven,” corrected O’Leary. “There is Dr. Letheny, you know.”
“But Mr. O’Leary, it sounds like a club.” I was very much in earnest but the man had the impudence to laugh.