The Poisoned Pen(Fiscle Part-3) by Arthur B. Reeve (top 10 motivational books .txt) 📕

Don't Know Why He Came Or Where He Went."

"That's A Thing We Must Follow Up Later," Remarked Kennedy As We

Made Our Adieus. "Just Now I Want To Get The Facts In Hand. The

Next Thing On My Programme Is To See This Dr. Waterworth."

We Found The Doctor Still In Bed; In Fact,  A Wreck As The Result

Of His Adventure. He Had Little To Correct In The Facts Of The

Story Which Had Been Published So Far. But There Were Many Other

Details Of The Poisoning He Was Quite Willing To Discuss Frankly.

"It Was True About The Jar Of Ammonia?" Asked Kennedy.

"Yes," He Answered. "It Was Standing On Her Dressing-Table With

The Note Crumpled Up In It,  Just As The Papers Said."

"And You Have No Idea Why It Was There?"

"I Didn't Say That. I Can Guess. Fumes Of Ammonia Are One Of The

Antidotes For Poisoning Of This Kind."

"But Vera Lytton Could Hardly Have Known That," Objected Kennedy.

"No,  Of Course Not. But She Probably Did Know That Ammonia Is Good

For Just That Sort Of Faintness Which She Must Have Experienced

After Taking The Powder. Perhaps She Thought Of Sal Volatile,  I

Don't Know. But Most People Know That Ammonia In Some Form Is Good

For Faintness Of This Sort,  Even If They Don't Know Anything About

Cyanides And---"

"Then It Was Cyanide?" Interrupted Craig.

"Yes," He Replied Slowly. It Was Evident That He Was Suffering

Great Physical And Nervous Anguish As The Result Of His Too

Intimate Acquaintance With The Poisons In Question. "I Will Tell

You Precisely How It Was,  Professor Kennedy. When I Was Called In

To See Miss Lytton I Found Her On The Bed. I Pried Open Her Jaws

And Smelled The Sweetish Odour Of The Cyanogen Gas. I Knew Then

What She Had Taken,  And At The Moment She Was Dead. In The Next

Room I Heard Some One Moaning. The Maid Said That It Was Mrs.

Boncour,  And That She Was Deathly Sick. I Ran Into Her Room,  And

Though She Was Beside Herself With Pain I Managed To Control Her,

Though She Struggled Desperately Against Me. I Was Rushing Her To

The Bathroom,  Passing Through Miss Lytton's Room. 'What's Wrong?'

I Asked As I Carried Her Along. 'I Took Some Of That,' She

Replied,  Pointing To The Bottle On The Dressing-Table.

"I Put A Small Quantity Of Its Crystal Contents On My Tongue. Then

I Realised The Most Tragic Truth Of My Life. I Had Taken One Of

The Deadliest Poisons In The World. The Odour Of The Released Gas

Of Cyanogen Was Strong. But More Than That,  The Metallic Taste And

The Horrible Burning Sensation Told Of The Presence Of Some Form

Of Mercury,  Too. In That Terrible Moment My Brain Worked With The

Incredible Swiftness Of Light. In A Flash I Knew That If I Added

Malic Acid To The Mercury--Perchloride Of Mercury Or Corrosive

Sublimate--I Would Have Calomel Or Subchloride Of Mercury,  The

Only Thing That Would Switch The Poison Out Of My System And Mrs.

Boncour's.

"Seizing Her About The Waist,  I Hurried Into The Dining-Room. On A

Sideboard Was A Dish Of Fruit. I Took Two Apples. I Made Her Eat

One,  Core And All. I Ate The Other. The Fruit Contained The Malic

Acid I Needed To Manufacture The Calomel,  And I Made It Right

There In Nature's Own Laboratory. But There Was No Time To Stop. I

Had To Act Just As Quickly To Neutralise That Cyanide,  Too.

Remembering The Ammonia,  I Rushed Back With Mrs. Boncour,  And We

Inhaled The Fumes. Then I Found A Bottle Of Peroxide Of Hydrogen.

I Washed Out Her Stomach With It,  And Then My Own. Then I Injected

Some Of The Peroxide Into Various Parts Of Her Body. The Peroxide

Of Hydrogen And Hydrocyanic Acid,  You Know,  Make Oxamide,  Which Is

A Harmless Compound.

"The Maid Put Mrs. Boncour To Bed,  Saved. I Went To My House,  A

Wreck. Since Then I Have Not Left This Bed. With My Legs Paralysed

I Lie Here,  Expecting Each Hour To Be My Last."

"Would You Taste An Unknown Drug Again To Discover The Nature Of A

Probable Poison?" Asked Craig.

"I Don't Know," He Answered Slowly,  "But I Suppose I Would. In

Such A Case A Conscientious Doctor Has No Thought Of Self. He Is

There To Do Things,  And He Does Them,  According To The Best That

Is In Him. In Spite Of The Fact That I Haven't Had One Hour Of

Unbroken Sleep Since That Fatal Day,  I Suppose I Would Do It

Again."

When We Were Leaving,  I Remarked: "That Is A Martyr To Science.

Could Anything Be More Dramatic Than His Willing Penalty For His

Devotion To Medicine?"

We Walked Along In Silence. "Walter,  Did You Notice He Said Not A

Word Of Condemnation Of Dixon,  Though The Note Was Before His

Eyes? Surely Dixon Has Some Strong Supporters In Danbridge,  As

Well As Enemies."

The Next Morning We Continued Our Investigation. We Found Dixon's

Lawyer,  Leland,  In Consultation With His Client In The Bare Cell

Of The County Jail. Dixon Proved To Be A Clear-Eyed,  Clean-Cut

Young Man. The Thing That Impressed Me Most About Him,  Aside From

The Prepossession In His Favour Due To The Faith Of Alma Willard,

Was The Nerve He Displayed,  Whether Guilty Or Innocent. Even An

Innocent Man Might Well Have Been Staggered By The Circumstantial

Evidence Against Him And The High Tide Of Public Feeling,  In Spite

Of The Support That He Was Receiving. Leland,  We Learned,  Had Been

Very Active. By Prompt Work At The Time Of The Young Doctor's

Arrest He Had Managed To Secure The Greater Part Of Dr. Dixon's

Personal Letters,  Though The Prosecutor Secured Some,  The Contents

Of Which Had Not Been Disclosed.

Kennedy Spent Most Of The Day In Tracing Out The Movements Of

Thurston. Nothing That Proved Important Was Turned Up,  And Even

Visits To Near-By Towns Failed To Show Any Sales Of Cyanide Or

Sublimate To Any One Not Entitled To Buy Them. Meanwhile,  In

Turning Over The Gossip Of The Town,  One Of The Newspapermen Ran

Across The Fact That The Boncour Bungalow Was Owned By The Posts,

And That Halsey Post,  As The Executor Of The Estate,  Was A More

Frequent Visitor Than The Mere Collection Of The Rent Would

Warrant. Mrs. Boncour Maintained A Stolid Silence That Covered A

Seething Internal Fury When The Newspaperman In Question Hinted

That The Landlord And Tenant Were On Exceptionally Good Terms.

It Was After A Fruitless Day Of Such Search That We Were Sitting

In The Reading-Room Of The Fairfield Hotel. Leland Entered. His

Face Was Positively White. Without A Word He Took Us By The Arm

And Led Us Across Main Street And Up A Flight Of Stairs To His

Office. Then He Locked The Door.

"What's The Matter?" Asked Kennedy.

"When I Took This Case," He Said,  "I Believed Down In My Heart

That Dixon Was Innocent. I Still Believe It,  But My Faith Has Been

Rudely Shaken. I Feel That You Should Know About What I Have Just

Found. As I Told You,  We Secured Nearly All Of Dr. Dixon's

Letters. I Had Not Read Them All Then. But I Have Been Going

Through Them To-Night. Here Is A Letter From Vera Lytton Herself.

You Will Notice It Is Dated The Day Of Her Death."

He Laid The Letter Before Us. It Was Written In A Curious Greyish-

Black Ink In A Woman's Hand,  And Read:

Dear Harris:

Since We Agreed To Disagree We Have At Least Been Good Friends,  If

No Longer Lovers. I Am Not Writing In Anger To Reproach You With

Your New Love,  So Soon After The Old. I Suppose Alma Willard Is

Far Better Suited To Be Your Wife Than Is A Poor Little Actress--

Rather Looked Down On In This Puritan Society Here. But There Is

Something I Wish To Warn You About,  For It Concerns Us All

Intimately.

We Are In Danger Of An Awful Mix-Up If We Don't Look Out. Mr.

Thurston--I Had Almost Said My Husband,  Though I Don't Know

Whether That Is The Truth Or Not--Who Has Just Come Over From New

York,  Tells Me That There Is Some Doubt About The Validity Of Our

Divorce. You Recall He Was In The South At The Time I Sued Him,

And The Papers Were Served On Him In Georgia,  He Now Says The

Proof Of Service Was Fraudulent And That He Can Set Aside The

Divorce. In That Case You Might Figure In A Suit For Alienating My

Affections.

I Do Not Write This With Ill Will,  But Simply To Let You Know How

Things Stand. If We Had Married,  I Suppose I Would Be Guilty Of

Bigamy. At Any Rate,  If He Were Disposed He Could Make A Terrible

Scandal.

Oh,  Harris,  Can't You Settle With Him If He Asks Anything? Don't

Forget So Soon That We Once Thought We Were Going To Be The

Happiest Of Mortals--At Least I Did. Don't Desert Me,  Or The Very

Earth Will Cry Out Against You. I Am Frantic And Hardly Know What

I Am Writing. My Head Aches,  But It Is My Heart That Is Breaking.

Harris,  I Am Yours Still,  Down In My Heart,  But Not To Be Cast Off

Like An Old Suit For A New One. You Know The Old Saying About A

Woman Scorned. I Beg You Not To Go Back On

                  Your Poor Little Deserted

                              Vera.

As We Finished Reading,  Leland Exclaimed,  "That Never Must Come

Before The Jury."

Kennedy Was Examining The Letter Carefully. "Strange," He

Muttered. "See How It Was Folded. It Was Written On The Wrong Side

Of The Sheet,  Or Rather Folded Up With The Writing Outside. Where

Have These Letters Been?"

"Part Of The Time In My Safe,  Part Of The Time This Afternoon On

My Desk By The Window."

"The Office Was Locked,  I Suppose?" Asked Kennedy. "There Was No

Way To Slip This Letter In Among The Others Since You Obtained

Them?"

"None. The Office Has Been Locked,  And There Is No Evidence Of Any

One Having Entered Or Disturbed A Thing."

He Was Hastily Running Over The Pile Of Letters As If Looking To

See Whether They Were All There. Suddenly He Stopped.

"Yes," He Exclaimed Excitedly,  "One Of Them Is Gone." Nervously He

Fumbled Through Them Again. "One Is