Twenty
IOver the telephone, Craddock’s voice came in sharp disbelief.
“Alfred?” he said. “Alfred?”
Inspector¹ Bacon, shifting the telephone receiver a little, said: “You didn’t expect that?”
“No, indeed. As a matter of fact, I’d just got him taped for the murderer!”
“I heard about him being spotted² by the ticket collector. Looked bad for him all right. Yes, looked as though we’dgot our man.”
“Well,” said Craddock flatly, “we were wrong.”
There was a moment’s silence. Then Craddock asked:
“There was a nurse in charge. How did she come to slip up?”
“Can’t blame her. Miss Eyelesbarrow was all in and went to get a bit of sleep. The nurse had five patients on herhands, the old man, Emma, Cedric, Harold and Alfred. She couldn’t be everywhere at once. It seems old Mr.
Crackenthorpe started creating in a big way. Said he was dying. She went in, got him soothed³ down, came back againand took Alfred in some tea with glucose⁴. He drank it and that was that.”
“Arsenic⁵ again?”
“Seems so. Of course it could have been a relapse, but Quimper doesn’t think so and Johnstone agrees.”
“I suppose,” said Craddock, doubtfully, “that Alfred was meant to be the victim?”
Bacon sounded interested. “You mean that whereas Alfred’s death wouldn’t do anyone a penn’orth of good, the oldman’s death would benefit the lot of them? I suppose it might have been a mistake—somebody might have thought thetea was intended for the old man.”
“Are they sure that that’s the way the stuff was administered?”
“No, of course they aren’t sure. The nurse, like a good nurse, washed up the whole contraption. Cups, spoons,teapot—everything. But it seems the only feasible method.”
“Meaning,” said Craddock thoughtfully, “that one of the patients wasn’t as ill as the others? Saw his chance anddoped the cup?”
“Well, there won’t be anymore funny business,” said Inspector Bacon grimly. “We’ve got two nurses on the jobnow, to say nothing of Miss Eyelesbarrow, and I’ve got a couple of men there too. You coming down?”

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