A Pocket Full of Rye

‘You say that Mr Fortescue’s death was caused by something he may have eaten for breakfast? Food poisoning, you mean?’

‘Possibly.’ He watched her.

She said composedly, ‘It seems unlikely. For breakfast this morning there were bacon and scrambled eggs, coffee, toast and marmalade. There was also a cold ham on the sideboard, but that had been cut yesterday, and no one felt any ill effects. No fish of any kind was served, no sausages—nothing like that.’

‘I see you know exactly what was served.’

‘Naturally. I order the meals. For dinner last night—’

‘No.’ Inspector Neele interrupted her. ‘It would not be a question of dinner last night.’

‘I thought the onset of food poisoning could sometimes be delayed as much as twenty-four hours.’

‘Not in this case … Will you tell me exactly what Mr Fortescue ate and drank before leaving the house this morning?’

‘He had early tea brought to his room at eight o’clock. Breakfast was at a quarter past nine. Mr Fortescue, as I have told you, had scrambled eggs, bacon, coffee, toast and marmalade.’

‘Any cereal?’

‘No, he didn’t like cereals.’

‘The sugar for the coffee—is it lump sugar or granulated?’

‘Lump. But Mr Fortescue did not take sugar in his coffee.’

‘Was he in the habit of taking any medicines in the morning? Salts? A tonic? Some digestive remedy?’

‘No, nothing of that kind.’

‘Did you have breakfast with him also?’

‘No. I do not take meals with the family.’

‘Who was at breakfast?’

‘Mrs Fortescue. Miss Fortescue. Mrs Val Fortescue. Mr Percival Fortescue, of course, was away.’

‘And Mrs and Miss Fortescue ate the same things for breakfast?’

‘Mrs Fortescue has only coffee, orange juice and toast, Mrs Val and Miss Fortescue always eat a hearty breakfast. Besides eating scrambled eggs and cold ham, they would probably have a cereal as well. Mrs Val drinks tea, not coffee.’

Inspector Neele reflected for a moment. The opportunities seemed at least to be narrowing down. Three people and three people only had had breakfast with the deceased, his wife, his daughter and his daughter-in-law. Either of them might have seized an opportunity to add taxine to his cup of coffee. The bitterness of the coffee would have masked the bitter taste of the taxine. There was the early morning tea, of course, but Bernsdorff had intimated that the taste would be noticeable in tea. But perhaps, first thing in the morning, before the senses were alert … He looked up to find Mary Dove watching him.

‘Your questions about tonic and medicines seem to me rather odd, Inspector,’ she said. ‘It seems to imply that either there was something wrong with a medicine, or that something had been added to it. Surely neither of those processes could be described as food poisoning.’

Neele eyed her steadily.

‘I did not say—definitely—that Mr Fortescue died of food poisoning. But some kind of poisoning. In fact—just poisoning.’

She repeated softly: ‘Poisoning …’

She appeared neither startled nor dismayed, merely interested. Her attitude was of one sampling a new experience.

In fact she said as much, remarking after a moment’s reflection: ‘I have never had anything to do with a poisoning case before.’

‘It’s not very pleasant,’ Neele informed her dryly.

‘No—I suppose not …’

She thought about it for a moment and then looked up at him with a sudden smile.

‘I didn’t do it,’ she said. ‘But I suppose everybody will tell you that!’

‘Have you any idea who did do it, Miss Dove?’

She shrugged her shoulders.

‘Frankly, he was an odious man. Anybody might have done it.’

‘But people aren’t poisoned just for being “odious”, Miss Dove. There usually has to be a pretty solid motive.’

‘Yes, of course.’

She was thoughtful.

‘Do you care to tell me something about the household here?’

She looked up at him. He was a little startled to find her eyes cool and amused.

‘This isn’t exactly a statement you’re asking me to make, is it? No, it couldn’t be, because your sergeant is busy upsetting the domestic staff. I shouldn’t like to have what I say read out in court—but all the same I should rather like to say it—unofficially. Off the record, so to speak?’

‘Go ahead then, Miss Dove. I’ve no witness, as you’ve already observed.’

She leaned back, swinging one slim foot and narrowing her eyes.

‘Let me start by saying that I’ve no feeling of loyalty to my employers. I work for them because it’s a job that pays well and I insist that it should pay well.’

‘I was a little surprised to find you doing this type of job. It struck me that with your brains and education—’

‘I ought to be confined in an office? Or compiling files in a Ministry? My dear Inspector Neele, this is the perfect racket. People will pay anything—anything—to be spared domestic worries. To find and engage a staff is a thoroughly tedious job. Writing to agencies, putting in advertisements, interviewing people, making arrangements for interviews, and finally keeping the whole thing running smoothly—it takes a certain capacity which most of these people haven’t got.’

‘And suppose your staff, when you’ve assembled it, runs out on you? I’ve heard of such things.’

Mary smiled.

‘If necessary, I can make the beds, dust the rooms, cook a meal and serve it without anyone noticing the difference. Of course I don’t advertise that fact. It might give rise to ideas. But I can always be sure of tiding over any little gap. But there aren’t often gaps. I work only for the extremely rich who will pay anything to be comfortable. I pay top prices and so I get the best of what’s going.’

‘Such as the butler?’