Out of it all came a sudden declaration.
“I never give him no poison. He told me to get him a drink. I went to the cooler, and drawed water in the glass. I knowed it was clean. I always get told about washing everything the minute it’s done with, and I did it even with the glass.”
If he had washed the glass, no evidence or clue to its former contents would remain in it. Was that, thought Roger, a way that a person might behave who had put something in the water? Or was Toby, as he insisted, innocent. But no one else had been there! Or had Zendt, formerly up with the doctor, put anything in that glass perhaps intended for either of the pair working there?
It was a maze.
And out of the staff, two were impotent.
Roger shuddered. A thought turned him all goose-flesh.
Might some one else be the next?
Which of them?
Maybe he, himself, might be.
Or—he thought—was it all over? Was the real culprit caught?