“Do you know whether any of this Cherry Bounce was left in your cellar when you closed the house for the summer, Mrs. Burnham?” inquired Penfield, returning to them.
Mrs. Burnham shook her head. “I really cannot inform you; Mrs. Ward, my housekeeper, may be able to tell you.” Mrs. Burnham changed her seat to one facing the doorway and with her back to the windows. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because the dose of prussic acid, or to be exact, hydrocyanic acid, which was used to poison the unknown man, was administered in cherry brandy—or cordial; it is practically the same thing,” explained Penfield. “I am trying to find out if it was possible for the murderer to have gotten those ingredients in this house.”
Mrs. Burnham looked her astonishment. “By ingredients do you mean the cordial or the poison?” she questioned suavely, laying one hand on her bag as it threatened to slip off her lap.
“The cordial.” Coroner Penfield took out his memorandum book. “Not a thing apparently was found out of place by you or any of your servants; not even a chair misplaced; no soiled glasses, plates, or cups; and yet the dead man and his companion or companions must have been carousing together—it is most extraordinary.”
“It is very evident they were not carousing here,” replied Mrs. Burnham tartly. “You will have to travel abroad to find the motive, the criminal, and the scene of the crime.”
Evelyn looked up in quick rebuke. What did her mother mean by her cryptic remark—to involve René?
“Travel abroad,” repeated the coroner thoughtfully. “To some extent we have done that; a warrant has been issued for the arrest of that young French ‘Ace’, Captain La Montagne, and we hope to have news of his whereabouts before night.”
“You can have news of his whereabouts now,” declared Evelyn before her mother could intervene. “My fiancé, Captain La Montagne, is dining with us to-night.”
“Your fiancé!” Penfield stared, astounded. “Do you mean you are engaged to the man your step-father accuses of the murder of this unknown man?”