“No, suh, he didn’t.”
“Might it not be that Tilghman, in a moment of despondency, killed himself?” asked Norcross, turning to the physician. “He carried a brandy flask in his bag.”
“If a death is possibly suicidal, it is also possibly homicidal,” explained Shively. “The brandy flask is still in Tilghman’s bag, full to the brim and entirely free from oxalic acid.”
“He might have borrowed a flask from some one,” suggested Barclay slowly. “And added the poison himself.”
“Quite true, he might have. But if it’s a case of suicide, where is the flask?” asked Shively. “Tilghman didn’t swallow that also.”
“Let’s hunt for it,” and the conductor started forward.
“Did you look about the car when you first entered, Barclay?” asked the professor.
“Yes.” Barclay passed his hand over the upholstered back of a chair. “But I didn’t find anything remotely resembling a flask.”
“Strange,” muttered Shively. “I found no flask in his pockets, and he certainly did not move out of that chair after swallowing the poison. Porter, were any of these windows opened?”
“Yessuh, an’ dey is still open wid de screens in jes’ as I lef dem.”