“Now, look here, my dear, we’ve got about ten minutes before my daughter can be here, and I haven’t had an opportunity of seeing you alone since we met—you remember when? I want to tell you to be of good heart! It’s a tremendously important point on your side—I wonder if you realize how important?—that no arsenic has been traced to Harry Garlett’s possession. What’s more, poor Mrs. Garlett was poisoned with white arsenic. We’ve got one of the biggest poison experts in the world ready to go into the box and swear that Mrs. Garlett was poisoned with pure arsenic, not arsenic extracted from some article in common use.”
She looked at him gratefully, but remained silent.
“Then there’s another point,” he went on. “A great deal has been made of those strawberries which were eaten by Mrs. Garlett on the fatal evening. As a matter of fact, no one saw her eat them, and no one has the slightest idea who brought them into her room. It’s very unfortunate that your uncle conveyed the impression, as he certainly did, that he knew as a fact that Mrs. Garlett received those strawberries from her husband’s hand. He knew nothing of the kind.”
“I’ve never been able to understand the question of the strawberries, and why so much importance has been attached to them,” said Jean Bower in a low voice.
“Importance has been attached to them,” said the lawyer decidedly, “because they seem to have been the only vehicle by which the poison could have been administered. The Prosecution have two witnesses ready to swear that they saw the small dish of strawberries, sprinkled thickly with powdered sugar, outside Mrs. Garlett’s door at five o’clock, and that at seven o’clock the dish was no longer there.”
“How strange,” said Jean in an oppressed tone.
“Mr. Garlett denies having even seen the strawberries. The lawyer who took Miss Cheale’s evidence on commission received from her the assurance that she did not know who had given Mrs. Garlett the fruit—she simply assumed that it must have been Mr. Garlett. Sir Harold Anstey—you will remember I told you about him last time you were in this room—will certainly make the most of the fact that no one knows what happened to those strawberries! Not only the fruit, but the dish, one of a set of four, disappeared from the top of the chest of drawers where it was known to have been that afternoon. The apparent obliteration of the dish is a very curious circumstance.”
“I suppose it is,” said Jean doubtfully.
“That odd occurrence, coupled with the fact that no purchase of arsenic has been traced to our friend, will certainly be an important point in his favour, so you must keep up heart.”
“I try to,” said Jean. “I’m feeling happier——”