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Armstrong said:
"Frankly, what do you think of the position?"Lombard reflected a minute. Then he said:"It's rather suggestive, isn't it?""What are your ideas on the subject of that woman? Do you accept Blore's theory?"Philip puffed smoke into the air. He said:"It's perfectly feasible - taken alone.""Exactly."
Armstrong's tone sounded relieved. Philip Lombard was no fool.The latter went on:
"That is, accepting the premise that Mr. and Mrs. Rogers have successfully got away with murder in their time. And I don't see why they shouldn't. What do you think they did exactly? Poisoned the old lady?"Armstrong said slowly:
"It might be simpler than that. I asked Rogers this morning what this Miss Brady had suffered from. His answer was enlightening. I don't need to go into medical details, but in a certain form of cardiac trouble, amyl nitrite is used. When an attack comes on an ampoule of amyl nitrite is broken and it is inhaled. If amyl nitrite were withheld - well, the consequences might easily be fatal."Philip Lombard said thoughtfully:
"As simple as that. It must have been - rather tempting."The doctor nodded.
"Yes, no positive action. No arsenic to obtain and administer - nothing definite - just - negation! And Rogers hurried through the night to fetch a doctor and they both felt confident that no one could ever know.""And, even if any one knew, nothing could ever be proved against them," added Philip Lombard.He frowned suddenly.
"Of course - that explains a good deal."Armstrong said, puzzled:
"I beg your pardon."
Lombard said:
"I mean - it explains Indian Island. There are crimes that cannot be brought home to their perpetrators. Instance, the Rogerses'. Another instance, old Wargrave, who committed his murder strictly within the law."Armstrong said sharply:
"You believe that story?"
Philip Lombard smiled.
"Oh, yes, I believe it. Wargrave murdered Edward Seton all right, murdered him as surely as if he'd stuck a stiletto through him! But he was clever enough to do it from the judge's seat in wig and gown. So in the ordinary way you can't bring his little crime home to him."A sudden flash passed like lightning through Armstrong's mind."Murder in Hospital. Murder on the Operating Table. Safe - yes, safe as houses!"Philip Lombard was saying:
"Hence - Mr. Owen - hence - Indian Island!"Armstrong drew a deep breath.
"Now we're getting down to it. What's the real purpose of getting us all here?"Philip Lombard said:
"What do you think?"
Armstrong said abruptly:
"Let's go back a minute to this woman's death. What are the possible theories? Rogers killed her because he was afraid she would give the show away. Second possibility: She lost her nerve and took an easy way out herself."Philip Lombard said:
"Suicide, eh?"
"What do you say to that?"
Lombard said:
"It could have been - yes - if it hadn't been for Marston's death. Two suicides within twelve hours is a little too much to swallow! And if you tell me that Anthony Marston, a young bull with no nerves and precious little brains, got the wind up over having mowed down a couple of kids and deliberately put himself out of the way - well, the idea's laughable! And anyway, how did he get hold of the stuff? From all I've ever heard, Potassium Cyanide isn't the kind of stuff you take about with you in your waistcoat pocket. But that's your line of country."Armstrong said:
"Nobody in their senses carries Potassium Cyanide. It might be done by some one who was going to take a wasps' nest.""The ardent gardener or landowner, in fact? Again, not Anthony Marston. It strikes me that Cyanide is going to need a bit of explaining. Either Anthony Marston meant to do away with himself before he came here, and therefore came prepared - or else -"Armstrong prompted him.
"Or else?"
Philip Lombard grinned.
"Why make me say it? When it's on the tip of your own tongue. Anthony Marston was murdered, of course."
