"You could not have found more dissimilar medicine to go in this pill box, although the two kinds of pills are identical in color and size," he said."Aconitine depresses the heart action while the other stimulates it."The physician's statement fell on deaf ears.Raising his head after contemplating the pills, Kent had looked across the room and his glance had fallen on a wing chair, standing just inside the doorway of the living room, and thrown partly in shadow by the portieres.
The wing of the chair appeared to move.Kent rubbed his eyes and looking again, caught the same slight movement.
Bounding toward the chair Kent saw that the brown shape which he had mistaken for part of the tufted upholstery was the sleek brown hair of a man's well-shaped head.He halted abruptly on meeting the gaze of a pair of mocking eyes.
"Rochester?" he gasped unbelievingly."Rochester!"His partner laughed softly as Stone approached."I have been an interested listener," he said."Let me complete the good doctor's argument.Nitro-glycerine would have benefitted Jimmie Turnbull and his feeble heart; whereas the missing aconitine pills killed him."Stone regarded him with severity."How did you get in this apartment?" he demanded, declining the challenge Rochester had offered in addressing his opinion of Turnbull's death directly to him.
Rochester dangled his bunch of keys in the physician's face and smiled at his excited partner."If you two hadn't been so absorbed in your conversation you would have heard me walk in," he remarked.
"Where have you been?" demanded Kent, partly recovering from his astonishment which had deprived him of speech.
"I decided to take a vacation at a moment's notice." Rochester spoke with the same slow drawl which was characteristic of him."You should be accustomed to my eccentricities by this time, Harry.""We are," announced Detective Ferguson from the hallway, where he and Nelson had been silent witnesses of the scene."And we'll give you a chance to explain them in the police court.""On what charge?" demanded Rochester.
"Poisoning your room-mate, Mr.Turnbull," replied the detective, drawing out a pair of handcuffs."You are mighty clever, Mr.
Rochester.I've got to hand it to you for your mysterious disappearances in and out of this apartment, and for murdering Mr.
Turnbull right in the police court in the presence of the judge, police officials, and spectators."Kent stepped forward at sight of the handcuffs and laid a restraining hand on the detective's shoulder.Rochester saw the movement, guessed Kent's intention, and smiled.
"We can settle the case here," he said cheerfully."No need of troubling the police judge.Now, Mr.Detective, how did I kill Jimmie Turnbull before all those people without any one becoming aware of the fact?""Slipped the poison in the glass of water you handed him," answered Ferguson promptly."A nervy sleight-of-hand, but you'll swing for it."Rochester's smile was exasperating as he turned to Dr.Stone.
"Judging from Stone's remarks about aconitine - which I overheard,"he interpolated."I gather the doctor is tolerably familiar with the action of the drug.Does aconitine kill instantly, doctor?"Stone cleared his throat before speaking."No; the fatal period averages about four hours," he said, and Rochester's eyes sparkled as he looked up at the detective.
"Jimmie died almost immediately after I handed him that drink of water," he declared."If you wish to know who administered that aconitine poison, you will have to find out who Jimmie was with at the McIntyre house in the early hours of Tuesday morning."The sharp imperative ring of the telephone bell cut the silence which followed.Kent, standing nearest the instrument, picked it up, and recognized Sylvester's voice over the wire.
"A message has just come, Mr.Kent," he called, "from Mrs.Brewster saying that she will be in your office at four o'clock."
