however, appear to have been present in this case. I presume Mrs.
Inglethorp took the coffee after dinner about eight o'clock, whereas the symptoms did not
manifest themselves until the early hours of the morning, which, on the face of it, points
to the drug having been taken much later in the evening.”
“Mrs. Inglethorp was in the habit of drinking a cup of coco in the middle of the night.
Could the strychnine have been administered in that?”
“No, I myself took a sample of the coco remaining in the saucepan and had it analysed.
There was no strychnine present.”
I heard Poirot chuckle softly beside me.
“How did you know?” I whispered.
“Listen.”
“I should say” - the doctor was continuing - “that I would have been considerably
surprised at any other result.”
“Why?”
“Simply because strychnine has an unusually bitter taste. It can be detected in a solution
of 1 in 70,000, and can only be disguised by some strongly flavoured substance. Coco would
be quite powerless to mask it.”
One of the jury wanted to know if the same objection applied to coffee.
“No. Coffee has a bitter taste of its own which would probably cover the taste of
strychnine.”
“Then you consider it more likely that the drug was administered in the coffee, but that
for some unknown reason its action was delayed.”
“Yes, but, the cup being completely smashed, there is no possibility of analysing its
contents.”
This concluded Dr. Bauerstein's evidence. Dr. Wilkins corroborated it on all points.
Sounded as to the possibility of suicide, he repudiated it utterly. The deceased, he said,
suffered from a weak heart, but otherwise enjoyed perfect health, and was of a cheerful
and well-balanced disposition. She would be one of the last people to take her own life.
Lawrence Cavendish was next called. His evidence was quite unimportant, being a mere
repetition of that of his brother. Just as he was about to step down, he paused, and said
rather hesitatingly: “I should like to make a suggestion if I may?”
He glanced deprecatingly at the Coroner, who replied briskly: “Certainly, Mr. Cavendish,
we are here to arrive at the truth of this matter, and welcome anything that may lead to
further elucidation.”
“It is just an idea of mine,” explained Lawrence. “Of course I may be quite wrong, but it
still seems to me that my mother's death might be accounted for by natural means.”
“How do you make that out, Mr. Cavendish?”
“My mother, at the time of her death, and for some time before it, was taking a tonic
containing strychnine.”
“Ah!” said the Coroner.
The jury looked up, interested.
“I believe,” continued Lawrence, “that there have been cases where the cumulative effect
of a drug, administered for some time, has ended by causing death. Also, is it not
possible that she may have taken an overdose of her medicine by accident?”
“This is the first we have heard of the deceased taking strychnine at the time of her
death. We are much obliged to you, Mr. Cavendish.”
Dr. Wilkins was recalled and ridiculed the idea. “What Mr. Cavendish suggests is quite
impossible. Any doctor would tell you the same. Strychnine is, in a certain sense, a
cumulative poison, but it would be quite impossible for it to result in sudden death in
this way. There would have to be a long period of chronic symptoms which would at once
have attracted my attention. The whole thing is absurd.”
“And the second suggestion? That Mrs. Inglethorp may have inadvertently taken an overdose?”
“Three, or even four doses, would not have resulted in death. Mrs. Inglethorp always had
an extra large amount of medicine made up at a time, as she dealt with Coot's, the Cash
Chemists in Tadminster. She would have had to take very nearly the whole bottle to account
for the amount of strychnine found at the post-mortem.”
“Then you
Inglethorp took the coffee after dinner about eight o'clock, whereas the symptoms did not
manifest themselves until the early hours of the morning, which, on the face of it, points
to the drug having been taken much later in the evening.”
“Mrs. Inglethorp was in the habit of drinking a cup of coco in the middle of the night.
Could the strychnine have been administered in that?”
“No, I myself took a sample of the coco remaining in the saucepan and had it analysed.
There was no strychnine present.”
I heard Poirot chuckle softly beside me.
“How did you know?” I whispered.
“Listen.”
“I should say” - the doctor was continuing - “that I would have been considerably
surprised at any other result.”
“Why?”
“Simply because strychnine has an unusually bitter taste. It can be detected in a solution
of 1 in 70,000, and can only be disguised by some strongly flavoured substance. Coco would
be quite powerless to mask it.”
One of the jury wanted to know if the same objection applied to coffee.
“No. Coffee has a bitter taste of its own which would probably cover the taste of
strychnine.”
“Then you consider it more likely that the drug was administered in the coffee, but that
for some unknown reason its action was delayed.”
“Yes, but, the cup being completely smashed, there is no possibility of analysing its
contents.”
This concluded Dr. Bauerstein's evidence. Dr. Wilkins corroborated it on all points.
Sounded as to the possibility of suicide, he repudiated it utterly. The deceased, he said,
suffered from a weak heart, but otherwise enjoyed perfect health, and was of a cheerful
and well-balanced disposition. She would be one of the last people to take her own life.
Lawrence Cavendish was next called. His evidence was quite unimportant, being a mere
repetition of that of his brother. Just as he was about to step down, he paused, and said
rather hesitatingly: “I should like to make a suggestion if I may?”
He glanced deprecatingly at the Coroner, who replied briskly: “Certainly, Mr. Cavendish,
we are here to arrive at the truth of this matter, and welcome anything that may lead to
further elucidation.”
“It is just an idea of mine,” explained Lawrence. “Of course I may be quite wrong, but it
still seems to me that my mother's death might be accounted for by natural means.”
“How do you make that out, Mr. Cavendish?”
“My mother, at the time of her death, and for some time before it, was taking a tonic
containing strychnine.”
“Ah!” said the Coroner.
The jury looked up, interested.
“I believe,” continued Lawrence, “that there have been cases where the cumulative effect
of a drug, administered for some time, has ended by causing death. Also, is it not
possible that she may have taken an overdose of her medicine by accident?”
“This is the first we have heard of the deceased taking strychnine at the time of her
death. We are much obliged to you, Mr. Cavendish.”
Dr. Wilkins was recalled and ridiculed the idea. “What Mr. Cavendish suggests is quite
impossible. Any doctor would tell you the same. Strychnine is, in a certain sense, a
cumulative poison, but it would be quite impossible for it to result in sudden death in
this way. There would have to be a long period of chronic symptoms which would at once
have attracted my attention. The whole thing is absurd.”
“And the second suggestion? That Mrs. Inglethorp may have inadvertently taken an overdose?”
“Three, or even four doses, would not have resulted in death. Mrs. Inglethorp always had
an extra large amount of medicine made up at a time, as she dealt with Coot's, the Cash
Chemists in Tadminster. She would have had to take very nearly the whole bottle to account
for the amount of strychnine found at the post-mortem.”
“Then you
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