your brain shrinking from lack of use.”
“Thank you, Mr. Hobart. All of my questions relate to poison. Since none was found in the chocolate pot or cup, does the inspector know how Mrs. Warrick ingested it? Did the police test the teacup delivered the following morning by the maid?”
“It was also negative for poison. Tests are also being undertaken on a bottle of tonic, tube of toothpaste, and a pot of face cream removed by the police from Mrs. Warrick’s room.”
“What type of poison was used?”
“Mercuric cyanide.”
Mercury was commonly used in agriculture and industry, and wasn’t difficult to obtain. That was the extent of my knowledge.
“Nothing else was delivered to Mrs. Warrick’s room that night?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I checked with the staff myself. Mrs. Warrick received nothing else from the hotel kitchen between the time Danny delivered the hot chocolate and Edith brought Mrs. Warrick’s tea at seven the following morning.”
“She died between three and six, so the doctor said. Does your brother have faith that it’s an accurate estimation?”
“He claims the science for estimating the time of death is quite good. It means Danny’s delivery was too early, and Edith was too late. I admit I’m relieved it’s neither of them.”
“Does your brother suspect anyone else on the staff?”
“He hasn’t confided that to me, and nor would he. He knows I’ll advocate for them. At least, he knows now, after arresting poor Danny.”
If he advocated loudly for his staff, how loud would he be if he discovered his nephew were guilty? Then again, Mr. Armitage’s own father wouldn’t arrest him.
“So the poison must have been in the tonic, toothpaste or face cream,” I said.
“The tests will prove which.”
Someone must have added poison to the bottle, tube or pot, either when Mrs. Warrick wasn’t there or directly under her nose. If she wasn’t there, then someone must have let themselves in with a key, and that pointed to one of the staff. If Mrs. Warrick was present, but turned her back on the poisoner, then almost anyone could be guilty. They didn’t need a key. They simply needed to know her so that she would allow them into her room.
“Did Mrs. Warrick have friends at the hotel?” I asked.
He frowned as he thought. “She dined alone and sat in the sitting room by herself. I don’t recall her speaking to any of the other guests.”
So the only person she did know was the man she’d recognized in the foyer on the day of her death. That narrowed the list to three suspects.
I rose. “Thank you, Mr. Hobart. You’ve given me some things to think about.”
He put on his spectacles and peered over the top of them. “If you think of something that might be relevant, you will tell my brother, won’t you?”
“Of course. If I learn something that would be of interest to him, I most certainly will.” No doubt the inspector wouldn’t be interested in learning something that would incriminate his own son, so I wasn’t precisely lying.
“And Miss Fox? Don’t ask anyone else questions about the murder. It’s possible the killer has checked out of the hotel, but it’s equally possible he has not. Trust only Sir Ronald, myself and Harry if you have anything else to ask.”
“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Hobart. It’s very kind of you.” I closed the door behind me, and touched my tingling nose. His fatherly words had brought tears to my eyes. Clearly I was still feeling raw from Grandmama’s death.
Peter signaled for me to approach as I passed his counter. “Harmony wants to speak to you,” he said. “She’s in the parlor with some of the others.”
The “others” turned out to be Victor and Edith. Victor hadn’t yet started his shift for the day, and Edith had just finished cleaning some of her allocated rooms and was waiting for more to be vacated before she returned to work. Harmony didn’t explain her presence there. Either she was finished altogether and didn’t want Edith to feel bad, or she shouldn’t have been in the parlor at all.
“Did you discover anything further?” Harmony asked as she closed the door behind me.
I told them how the police found mercuric cyanide in Mrs. Warrick’s body. “They’ve taken away a few items from her toilette for testing. The poison must be in one of those.”
“What does mercuric cyanide taste like?” Victor asked.
“How would any of us know?” Harmony cried.
He drummed his fingers on his thigh and shrugged.
“Metallic, I imagine,” I said.
“Probably not