Behold Here's Poison Read Free Page A

daresay he feels quite differently now that he's passed on: I believe they do, though I've never been able to understand why. Oh dear, how very confusing it all is! If I'd ever dreamed it would all be so difficult and unpleasant I should have been the last person in the world to have wanted Gregory to die. It was the duck, doctor. I implored him not to eat it, but he would go his own way, and now he's dead, and there are two beautiful lamb cutlets gone to waste. Eaten in the kitchen! English lamb!'
    Dr Fielding, returning the pressure of Stella's fingers, broke in on this monologue to request that he might be taken at once to Gregory Matthews' room.
    'Oh yes!' said Miss Matthews, looking round in a flustered way. 'Of course! I should take you up myself, only that I feel I never want to enter the room again. Guy, you are the man of the house now!'
    'No one need take me up,' replied Dr Fielding. 'I know my way.'
    Beecher coughed, and stepped forward to the foot of the stairs. 'If you please, sir, I will escort you to the Master's room.'
    The doctor looked at him. 'You were the one who found Mr Matthews, I think? By all means come up.'
    At the head of the stairs he was met by Mrs Matthews. She was dressed in a becoming black frock, and greeted him in a voice rather more fading than usual. She was not a patient of his, because she mistrusted all General Practitioners, but as a man (as she frequently observed) she liked him very well. Now that Gregory Matthews' opposition had been cut short in this summary fashion she was even prepared to accept the doctor as a son-in-law. So there was just a suggestion of sympathetic understanding in the smile she bestowed on him, and she said: 'I expect Stella has told you. We can't realise it yet—perhaps mercifully. And yet, when I woke this morning, I had a sort of presentiment. I can hardly describe it, but I think that people who are rather highly-strung, which I'm afraid I am, are more sensitive than others to—what shall I call it?—atmosphere.'
    'Undoubtedly,' replied the doctor, who knew her of old.
    'It was of course a heart-attack, following on acute indigestion,' stated Mrs Matthews. 'My poor brother-in-law was sometimes very headstrong, as I expect you know.'
    'Yes,' agreed the doctor, edging his way past her. 'Very headstrong, I'm afraid.'
    She let him go, and proceeded on her way downstairs while Beecher unlocked the door of Gregory Matthews' room, and ushered the doctor in.
    He did not say anything when he saw the body lying on the bed, but bent over it with his brows drawn close. Beecher stood watching him while he made his examination, and presently said: 'I suppose it was a natural death, sir?'
    Dr Fielding looked up quickly. 'Have you any reason to think that it was not?'
    'Oh no, sir, only that he does look awful, and his eyes being open like that don't look right, somehow.'
    'Is that all! If you take my advice you won't spread that kind of rumour about. It might get you into trouble.' Dr Fielding transferred his attention to the bed again, finished his examination, and straightened himself.
    Beecher, opening the door for him, volunteered the information, in a rather offended tone, that the body had been cold when he had found it at eight o'clock. The doctor nodded, and passed out of the room to the head of the stairs.
    Below, in the hall, the party had been augmented by the arrival of Mrs Lupton and her husband, who had motored over from their house on the other side of the Heath. The presence of Henry Lupton, a little, sandy moustached man with weak, worried blue eyes, was generally felt to be insignificant, but Gertrude Lupton's personality made her a formidable and unwelcome visitor. She was a massively built woman of about fifty-five, extremely upright, and reinforced wherever possible with whalebone. She even wore it inserted into the net fronts which invariably encased her throat. Her hats always had wide brims and very high crowns, and her face-powder was faintly