The smile lingered but he was uneasy. He did not expect to be spied on in this house with its rows of closed doors and its atmosphere of genteel whispers and unobtrusive wealth.
He became aware that something else was watching him. There was a soft thump from the other end of the hall. He turned his head quickly and saw two eyes staring at him carefully but without personal interest. A huge German shepherd dog lay around the bend of the banister with only his head sticking out.
“Hello,” Sands said. Conscious of the inadequacy of this address he added, “Hello, dog.”
The dog blinked slowly.
“All right,” Sands said. “Be nasty then. Where’s Maurice? Go and get Maurice.”
There was no movement at all this time.
Sands smiled cautiously. “So you just don’t give a damn.” He raised his voice.
A door beside him opened abruptly and a girl came into the hall.
“Maurice!”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t know you were here. I was waiting for you. I’m Alice Heath.”
“Inspector Sands,” he told her.
“Come in here, please. Dr. Loring is in here.”
She stood aside and the light fell full on her face for just an instant. Not a pretty face, Sands thought, too bloodless and tight, but its bones were small and beautiful, and it wore an expression of gentleness which might have been real gentleness or the kind that came from rigid control.
He went through the door, noticing her hand on the knob. A firm grip but not too firm. Again the word control came to his mind. He felt then that he was going to admire Alice Heath but never to like her, that she was the kind of woman a man recommended as a wife for his friends but not for himself.
“This is Dr. Loring, Inspector Sands,” she said.
A tall young man rose from a corner of the small sitting room. His face looks as if he had slept in it, Sands thought.
“Glad to know you,” Sands said. He held out his hand but Loring didn’t see it.
He said in a cracked voice, “I... I have been guilty of criminal...”
“Please sit down,” Alice said calmly.
“Criminal negligence,” Loring said. “I expect to be struck off the register when the story gets out. I have no excuse.”
“You’re the family doctor?” Sands said.
“No. No, I’m a psychiatrist. I have no excuse at all except that I was tired and I thought the report could wait until today.”
“What report?”
“The girl was poisoned last night,” Loring said.
“I’m quite sure Dr. Loring is mistaken.” Alice said in a clear cold voice. “Naturally he is upset.”
“Morphine,” Loring said. “A grain or more of morphine. She had talked of killing herself but she was blind. How could she have gotten the stuff? And then this morning — she couldn’t have driven that knife in herself.”
“There are some men in the hall,” Alice said.
Sands said, “Thanks,” and went out.
Three of the men were already in Kelsey’s room. The fourth, carrying a medical bag, was in the hall talking to the dog.
“Hello, Sutton,” Sands said.
“Hello,” Sutton said. “Nice dog.”
“Yes. Nice day, too.”
“I’ve always wanted a dog.”
“Get one in your spare time,” Sands said dryly.
Sutton grimaced and disappeared into Kelsey’s room. Sands stood in the doorway watching the men work. They were well-trained, he had trained them himself, and it was his boast that they could collect more useless information than any group their size in Canada.
Sands went back to the small sitting room. Alice Heath had gone, but Loring was pacing up and down the room smoking. The delay in telling his story had unnerved him completely as Sands had hoped.
“You’ve got to listen to me!” Loring cried.
“Why, of course,” Sands said quietly. “Go ahead.”
“I... I didn’t know whether the girl had taken the stuff herself or not. I intended to hold off my report until I got in touch with Miss Alison. She’s the nurse who was attending Mrs. Heath when she died a year and a half ago. There was some morphine left over, I understand, and that could have been the stuff the girl used.”
“There are other ways of getting morphine.”
Loring shook his head. “This morphine came from a prescription. You know yourself that since the war started bootleg morphine is so doctored with sugar of milk that hundreds of addicts are almost cured and don’t know it. The stuff could hardly injure a cat. Aside from her blindness, Kelsey Heath was in good health and morphine had never been prescribed for her. Or for the rest of the household.”
Sands said, “The rest of the household being...?”
“Alice Heath, her father, her brother John, and Kelsey’s fiancé, Philip James; and the servants, the butler, a nurse Letty, a maid Ida and the cook and another maid who is on holiday. I haven’t seen the cook.”
“I see,” Sands said. “You seem to know the family well.”
“I don’t know any of them!” Loring shouted. “I never even saw any of them until yesterday afternoon! What I know of the family Alice Heath told me. She came to my office yesterday afternoon. She had made an appointment in the morning by phone. She said she wanted to consult me about her sister.”
“Why?”
“She thought her sister was... was becoming unreasonable.”
“Unreasonable,” Sands said, “meaning crazy?”
“Not exactly.”
“But exactly enough. Did you see the sister?”
“When I did she was unconscious from the morphine.”
“You have only Alice Heath’s word for the mental symptoms, then?”
Loring glanced up sharply. “Yes.”
“Nice build-up.”
“What do you mean?”
“Doubt is cast on Kelsey Heath’s sanity and Kelsey Heath conveniently commits suicide as insane people often do. Also conveniently, she dies before a psychiatrist has a talk with her. Verdict: suicide while of unsound mind.”
“But why?” Loring said. “Why?”
“I just gave you one reason, a build-up for suicide. There might be a second reason, connected with Kelsey Heath’s will.” He smiled briefly. “Loring, you’ve been used.”
“For the love of God,” Loring whispered. He stumbled into a chair.
“It is a cruel world, yes,” Sands said. “Still, you’re a pretty big boy now and a psychiatrist as well as a big boy.”
“I hadn’t any idea, any remotest idea...”
Sands said dryly, “You were told that Kelsey Heath talked of killing herself, I suppose?”
“Yes. But I thought that was natural enough. She was young and pretty and engaged to be married, and then suddenly she was blinded. It would produce a terrible emotional conflict, especially in a girl of her type, who was used to having everything. It would be more than enough to cause suicide in her case though perhaps not in a normal girl brought up in normal surroundings by well-adjusted parents.”
Sands let him talk about emotional conflicts and the Heath family. After a time he interrupted. “What did Alice Heath want you to do about her sister?”
“Just talk to her,” Loring said. “Reason with her.”
“And eventually put her away some place?”
“Nothing was said of that,” Loring replied stiffly. “Miss Heath was aware that the atmosphere in the house was unhealthy for both her brother and Mr. James and she wanted me to arrange it so they would leave.”
He tugged at his collar. “I know it sounds fantastic today but I’m used to things that sound fantastic. I had no suspicions. If you only wouldn’t make comments in that voice...”
“What voice?”
“Cold reason. You can’t explain everything if you use cold reason.”
“Have you ever tried?” Sands asked grimly.