“If either of the girls had a husband, the estate would pass to him. But, in event of Sibella and Ada dying single, everything would go to the State. That is to say, the State would get it provided there were no relatives alive—which I believe is the case.”
Heath pondered these possibilities for several minutes.
“I can’t see anything in the situation to give us a lead,” he lamented. “Everybody benefits equally by what’s already happened. And there’s three of the family still left—the old lady and the two girls.”
“Two from three leaves one, Sergeant,” suggested Vance quietly.
“What do you mean by that, sir?”
“The morphine and the strychnine.”
Heath gave a start and made an ugly face.
“By God!” He struck the table with his fist. “It ain’t coming to that if I can stop it!” Then a sense of helplessness tempered his outraged resolution, and he became sullen.
“I know how you feel.” Vance spoke with troubled discouragement. “But I’m afraid we’ll all have to wait. If the Greene millions are an actuating force in this affair, there’s no way on earth to avert at least one more tragedy.”
“We might put the matter up to the two girls and perhaps induce them to separate and go away,” ventured the Inspector.