On the foot of the narrow bed lay Mrs. Drukker, fully clothed. Her face was ashen white; her eyes were set in a hideous stare; and her hands were clutching her breast.
Barstead sprang forward and leaned over. After touching her once or twice he straightened up and shook his head slowly.
“She’s gone. Been dead probably most of the night.” He bent over the body again and began making an examination. “You know, she’s suffered for years from chronic nephritis, arteriosclerosis, and hypertrophy of the heart. . . . Some sudden shock brought on an acute dilatation. . . . Yes, I’d say she died about the same time as Drukker . . . round ten o’clock.”
“A natural death?” asked Vance.
“Oh, undoubtedly. A shot of adrenalin in the heart might have saved her if I’d been here at the time. . . .”
“No signs of violence?”
“None. As I told you, she died from dilatation of the heart brought on by shock. A clear case—true to type in every respect.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
The Wall in the Park
(Saturday, April 16; 11 a. m.)
When the doctor had straightened Mrs. Drukker’s body on the bed and covered it with a sheet, we returned down-stairs. Barstead took his departure at once after promising to send the death certificate to the Sergeant within an hour.