I nodded.
“It seems that he heard it when he stopped there near the south entrance on his way to see Dr. Letheny. I suppose it was this conversation as much as anything that made him suspicious of what was going on in Room 18. It seems that he knew at once who was on the other side of the bush; it was Corole and Dr. Hajek. Corole said—according to Higgins—‘To follow would be easy, now,’ and Hajek said ‘Wait till he comes out.’ Then Corole said something about it not being difficult and Hajek said ‘Leave it to me.’ Then Higgins thought he must have made some noise among the leaves, for Corole whispered ‘Hush’ and he heard them slipping away. Higgins followed but soon lost them in the dark and himself returned to the interesting vicinity of Room 18.” He paused.
“Go on,” said O’Leary grimly.
“Higgins told you how he came back to the porch and stumbled over a coat. I got him to tell me something about the coat. He said it must have been ‘one of them slickers,’ for it felt cold and oily. And at the same time he told me a peculiar thing.” Again he paused as if what he was about to say was distasteful to him. I glanced at O’Leary; his eyes still wore that strangely luminous expression. Even the glass doors of the cupboards all around us and the shining white tiles seemed to wait expectantly.
“Go on,” said O’Leary sharply, his words breaking into the crystal silence.
Jim Gainsay cleared his throat, felt in his pocket for a cigarette, remembered that he was in a hospital and replaced it.
“He said the coat smelled of—ether!”
There was a moment of silence. Then I turned to O’Leary.
“Ether! It was the same slicker! The one that I wore Friday afternoon!”
O’Leary nodded thoughtfully.