"That's fair enough," he said. "And given the circumstances it's not a very pleasant thin, to admit.

But the c, point is, that the poisons were all disposed of at least a fortni lit a,eaeao or loner." "That is what you think, Mr. Chapman, but it may not really be so." Nigel stared at him.

"What do you mean?" "You had these things in your possession, how long?" Niel considered.

C, "Well, the tube of hyoscine about ten days, I suppose. The morphine tartrate, about four days.

The tincture digitalin I'd only got that very afternoon." "And where did you keep these things-the hyoscine hydrobromide and the morphine tartrate, that is to say?" "In the drawer of my chest-of-drawers, pushed-to the back under my socks." "Did anyone know you had it there?" "No. No, I'm sure they didn't." There had been, however, a faint hesitation in his voice which Inspector Sharpe noticed, but for the moment he did not press the point.

"Did you tell anyone what you were doing? Your methods? The way you were going about these things?" "No. At least-no, I didn't." "You said, "at least," Mr. Chapman." "Well, I didn't actually. As a matter of fact, I was going to tell Pat, then I thought she wouldn't approve. She's very strict, Pat is, so I fobbed her off." "You didn't tell her about stealing the stuff from the doctor's car, or the prescriptions, or the morphia from the hospital?" "Actually, I betold her afterwards about the digitalin, that I'd written a. prescription and got a bottle from the chemist, and about masquerading as a doctor at the hospital. I'm sorry to say Pat wasn't amused. I didn't tell her about pinching things from a car. I thought she'd go up in smoke." "Did you tell her you were going to destroy this stuff after you'd won the bet?" "Yes. She was all worried and het up about it.

Started to insist I take the things back or something like that." "That course of action never occurred to you yourself?" "Good Lord no! That would have been fatal; it would have landed me in no end of a row. No, we three just chucked the stuff on the fire and poured it down the Lou and that was that. No harm done." "You say that, Mr. Chapman, but it's quite possible that harm was done." "How can it have been, If the stuff was chucked away as I tell you?" "Has it ever occurred to you, Mr. Chapman, that someone might have seen where you put those things, or found them perhaps, and that someone might have emptied morphia out of the bottle and replaced it with something else?" "Good Lord no!" Nigel stared at him. "I never thought of anything of that kind. I don't believe it." "But it's a possibility, Mr. Chapman." "But nobody could possibly have known." "I should say," said the Inspector, drily, "that in a place of this kind a great deal more is known than you yourself might believe possible." "Snooping, you mean?" "Yes." "Perhaps you're right there." "Which of the students might normally, at any time, be in your room?" "Well, I share it with Len Bateson. Most of the men here have been in it now and again. Not the girls, of course. The girls aren't supposed to come to the bedroom floors on our side of the house.

Propriety. Pure living." "They're not supposed to, but they might do so, I suppose?" "Anyone might," said Niel. "In the daytime.

The afternoon, for instance, there's nobody about." "Does Miss Lane ever come to your room?" "I hope you don't mean that the way it sounds, Inspector. Pat comes to my room sometimes to replace some socks she's been daming. Nothing more than that." "You do realise, Mr. Chapman, that the person who could most easily have taken some of that poison out of the bottle and substituted something else for it, was yourself?" Nigel looked at hird, his face suddenly hard and ha gard.

"Yes," he said. "I've seen that just a minute and a half ago. I could have done just exactly that. But I'd no reason on earth for putting that girl out of the way, Inspector, and I didn't do it. Still, there it is-I quite realise that you've only got my word for it." THE STORY of the bet and the disposal of the poison was confirmed by Len Bateson and by Colin Mcationabb. Sharpe retained Colin Mcationabb after the others had gone.

"I don't want to cause you more pain than I can help, Mr. Mcationabb," he said. "I can realize what it means to you for your fianc6e to have been poisoned on the very night of your engagement." "There'll be no need to go into that aspect of it," said Colin Mcationabb, his face immovable.

"You'll not need to concern yourself with my feelings. Just ask me any questions you like which you think may be useful to you." "It was your considered opinion that Celia Austin's behaviour had a psychological origin?" "There's no doubt about it at all,- said Colin Meationabb. "If you'd like me to go into the theory of the thing…" "No, no," said Inspector Sharpe, hastily.

"I'm taking your word for it as a student of psychology." "Her childhood had been particularly unfortunate. It had set-up an emotional block…" "Quite so, quite so." Inspector Sharpe was desperately anxious to avoid hearing the story of yet another unhappy childhood. Nigel's had been quite enough.

"You had been attracted to her for some time?" "I would not say precisely that," said Colin, considering the matter conscientiously. "These things sometimes surprise you by the way they dawn upon you suddenly, like. Subconsciously no doubt, I had been attracted, but I was not aware of the fact.

Since it was not my intention to marry young I had no doubt set up a considerable resistance to the idea in my conscious mind." "Yes. Just so. Celia Austin was happy in her engagement to you? I mean, she expressed no doubts? Uncertainties? There was nothing she felt she ought to tell you?" "She made a very full confession of all she'd been doing. There was nothing more in her mind to worry her." "And you were planning to get married-whenough?" "Not for a considerable time. I'm not in a position, at comthe moment, to support a wife." "Had Celia any enemy here? Anyone who did not like her?" "I can hardly believe so. I've given that point of view a great deal of thought, Inspector.

Celia was well liked here. I'd say, myself, it was not a personal matter at all which brought about her end." "What do you mean by'not a personal matter'?" "I do no-t wish to be very precise at the moment. It's only a vague kind of idea I have and I'm not clear about it myself." From that position the Inspector could not budge him.

The last two students to be interviewed were Sally Finch and Elizabeth Johnston. The Inspector took Sally Finch first.

Sally was an attractive girl with a mop of red hair and eyes that were bright and intelligent. After routine enquiries Sally Finch suddenly took the initiative.

"D'you know what I'd like to do, Inspector?

I'd like to tell you just what I think. I personally.

There's something all wrong about this house, something very wrong indeed. I'm sure of that." "You mean because Celia Austin was poisoned?" "No, I mean before that. I've been feeling it for some time. I didn't like the things that were going on here.

I didn't like that rucksack which was slashed about and I didn't like Valerie's scarf being cut to pieces.

I didn't like Black Bess's notes being covered with ink. I was going to get out of here and get out quick. That's what I still mean to do, as soon, that is, as you let us go." Sally nodded her head.

"You mean you're afraid of something, Miss Finch?" "Yes, I'm afraid. There's something or someone here who's pretty ruthless. The whole place isn't-well, how shall I put it?-it isn't what it seems. No, no, Inspector, I don't mean Communists. I can see that just trembling on your lips. It's not Communists I mean. Perhaps it isn't even criminal. I don't know. But I'll bet you anything you like that awful old woman knows about it all." "What old woman? You mean Mrs. Hubbard?" "No. Not Ma Hubbard. She's a dear. I mean old Nicoletis. That old she-wolf." "That's interesting, Miss Finch. Can you be more definite? About Mrs. Nicoletis, I mean." Sally shook her head.