man is a senior police detective. I’ll mention the matter to him and he’ll know what to do.”
“Thank you, that would be helpful,” she said, “but I’m wondering—if there was any kind of foul play, shouldn’t we take a look for ourselves before he has a chance to get rid of the evidence?”
I thought privately that any clever murderer would probably have destroyed the evidence instantly, but Emily went on. “I want to go over there right now to pay my last respects. Won’t you come with me? You’d know what to look for.”
“Emily, I should warn you that I know nothing about arsenic or any other kind of poisoning, but I’ll be happy to come with you. I’d like to pay my last respects too.”
I poured her a cup of tea while I went upstairs to find my one black dress.
The maid who opened the door to us at the Poindexter home looked as if she had been crying.
“Oh, miss. Oh, miss,” was all she could manage.
“We came to offer our condolences,” Emily said, “and to say a last farewell to dear Fanny.”
She nodded and let us into the hall. We waited while we heard voices in the drawing room and presently Anson Poindexter himself came out. He looked haggard and disheveled, as if he hadn’t slept all night, and was still wearing a maroon silk robe.
“Ah, Miss Boswell,” he said, extending his hand to her. “How good of you to come. You must excuse my appearance. I’m finding it hard to function.”
“This is Miss Murphy, another of Fanny’s friends,” Emily said.
I saw a flicker of interest or suspicion cross his face. “Miss Murphy? I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of making your acquaintance before.” He held out his hand to me in civil enough fashion. “Are you another of the fearsome Vassar ladies?”
“No, sir. My acquaintance with your wife is fairly recent.”
“I brought her to one of Fanny’s at homes,” Emily said. “They hit it off really well.”
“I’m so glad,” he said. “She had some wonderful, true friends. She was well loved, wouldn’t you say?”
“Very well loved,” Emily said.
“Her parents are here.” Anson Poindexter looked back at the drawing room door. “They are absolutely devastated, as you can imagine. Fanny was the light of their lives. Their adored only child.” He paused and cleared his throat. “As she was the light of my life, of course.”
“We were with her only last Sunday,” I said. “And she seemed so bright and healthy then. The disease took its toll so quickly.”
He nodded. “The doctor said he’d seen so many cases this year in which a simple influenza turned to pneumonia overnight.”
“That’s what she died of then, was it?” Emily asked. “Pneumonia?”
“That’s what’s on the death certificate,” he said. “It was her lungs, in any case.”
“Not her stomach?” Emily asked.
“Her stomach?” He looked surprised.
“She sent a note to my pharmacy requesting her favorite stomach mixture on Tuesday.”
“Did she? Well, I suppose there was some vomiting, but I put that down to the high fever. No, I’m sure it was pneumonia.”
“Was the progression very rapid?” I asked, trying not to sound overly interested.
“It must have been rapid,” he said. “You see, I was away from home on Friday night. I had to visit a client out of town. When I left on Friday morning Fanny was weak and feverish but seemed cheerful enough. I didn’t get back to the city until late last night. I arrived home to find the doctor here and Fanny’s mother in a terrible state. Fanny was close to death, her breath coming in rasping gasps. She only lasted an hour or two after that. It was horrible.” He paused and coughed again. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I find this too painful a subject to discuss at this moment.”
Emily stepped forward. “Might we just see her, to say good-bye?” she asked. “She was my dearest friend, you know.”
“Of course.” He nodded solemnly and walked toward the bedroom door. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t come into the room with you. I simply can’t—” He left the rest of the sentence hanging.
We stepped into the darkened room. The heavy velvet drapes had been drawn, making it hard to see anything. I could dimly make out the white figure in a vast carved mahogany sleigh bed.
“I hope they won’t mind if I open the drapes for a minute,” Emily said. She went across to the window and pulled them back. Bright spring light flooded in. Pigeons rose, flapping