Below Suspicion Read Free Page A

he said briskly, "was the tin usually kept in the stable. It contained only antimony?"
    "Yes."
    "Nemo's salts," Butler pursued, "are not effervescent. If somebody had given her that tin—"
    "Given it to her!" said Joyce, and closed her eyes. Her words were edged with horrible irony.
    "Mrs. Taylor," said the barrister, "would have poured two or three teaspoonfuls of pure antimony into a glass of water. She'd have stirred it round and swallowed the lot without noticing anything wrong. Antimony is odourless and tasteless, like arsenic."
    "But I'm the only person who could have given it to her! Don't you see that?"
    "Well..." He pursed his lips.
    "I was alone with her. The house was locked up inside. Nobody could have got in. They don't believe me when I say the bell didn't ring. I did inherit money from her; and I—was upset and angry about that afternoon." Then out came the question she had been trying to strangle back from the first moment. "Mr. Butler, have I got any chance?"
    "Look here," he said gravely. "I want you to trust me just a minute or tvvo more, until I've finished examining this stor)'. Can you do that?"
    "All right. Of course. If you say so."
    "Then think back to the time you first saw Mrs. Taylor dead in that bed. Can you see the picture clearly?"
    "Horribly clearly!" She did not tell him that she felt almost physically sick because he had not answered her question.
    "When you first saw the tin of Nemo's on the bedside table, did you connect it in your mind with the one in the stable? The tin of antimony?"
    Joyce stared at him.
    "Good heavens, no! Nobody thought of it, until the police began asking questions. I—I just thought it was a real tin she'd found or dug up somewhere."
    "Tell me what you did after you saw the body."
    "I went to Mrs. Taylor, and touched her. She was cold. Alice and Emma were so frightened they couldn't talk straight; I could hardly understand them. I picked up the Nemo's tin from the bedside table, and looked at it and put it down again. I kept wondering where on earth she'd got it."
    "And that was why the police found your fingerprints on the tin?"
    "Yes. It was."
    "Was this the only time you touched the tin?"
    "The only time."
    "You know, of course, that both Alice Griffiths and Emma Perkins say they didn't see you pick up the tin?"
    Joyce's sick feeling had increased.
    "Yes, I know," she answered. "And it isn't true. Please understand me! I don't say they're not honest. They are honest. But they were too horribly upset; they just don't remember. People often don't remember things like that, even when you remind them."
    Butler gave her a quick, curious look, with the same enigmatic quality as the smile he had directed at a corner of the ceiling.
    " 'Even when you remind them,' " he repeated. "I wonder!" Then: "Had Mrs. Taylor vomited during the night? Don't look so bewildered at the question, my dear. Had she?"
    "No. That—that was the first thing that Dr. Bierce asked. But we looked all over the place; and she hadn't."
    "When someone swallows a large dose of antimony, you know, the person is usually violently sick inside fifteen or twenty minutes."
    "But she was poisoned with antimony!" cried Joyce. "When they had me up before the magistrate for committal, and they presented the evidence they're going to give against me in court, the pathologist said it was antimony!"
    "Ah, yes," murm.ured Butler with satisfaction. He raised his eyebrows. "That's one of the best features of our legal system. They've got to present their whole case before the magistrate. Whereas we don't have to; we merely reserve your defence. By God! They don't know a single card in my hand!"
    His bass voice, though low-pitched, rang with exultation.
    "I can't stand this!" Joyce said uncontrollably. "Please, please, please! Is there any chance for me at all?"
    "I'll tell you," he answered quietly. "If you trust me, and follow my advice, the prosecution haven't a leg to stand on."
    Again Joyce stared at him, her