The Poisonous Seed (12 page)

A note arrived from Mr Rawsthorne, stating that in view of the impending inquest proceedings he wished to visit the shop and see for himself where items were kept and how things were done. He arrived on the stroke of three with a bundle of papers under his arm, and a clerk to take notes.

He first shook hands with William. ‘My dear old friend,’ he said soothingly, ‘do not worry yourself. I am here to learn what I can and promise you we will find out what happened. I have every confidence that the inquest will clear you of blame.’ He turned to face Herbert and Frances with a beaming smile. ‘Now, to make a start, I need to see the items which formed the ingredients of the mixture made for Mr Garton.’

Rawsthorne examined everything minutely, both smelling and tasting the contents of the bottles, and looking at the Pharmacopoeia and the receipts book, questioning William until he was certain that he understood the matter thoroughly. ‘So,’ he said at last, ‘two teaspoonfuls only of tincture of nux vomica went into the bottle, which was then made up to six ounces with elixir of oranges.’ Rawsthorne’s clerk, a pasty-faced youth with ink-blackened fingers, unrolled a paper on the counter. He had listened to the conversation, his eyes flickering back and forth about the shop as if fearful that at any moment someone might emerge from the shadows and offer him a deadly poison. Possibly having no suitable pocket for pens and pencils, he favoured keeping them clamped between his teeth, although they also provided a suitable barrier against harm. Removing his sharpest pencil from this convenient holder, he began to write, rapidly, as if his entire future career depended upon it. ‘And how much strychnine would you say was in each dose?’ asked Rawsthorne.

William started to leaf through the Pharmacopoeia, and Herbert began to scribble numbers on a scrap of paper, but Frances had already done the calculations. Referring to her notebook, she said, ‘The dose is one or two teaspoonfuls of the mixture. There is approximately one hundred and sixtieth part of a grain in each teaspoonful.’

‘But we now know,’ said Rawsthorne, nodding at Frances approvingly, ‘that Mr Garton was very imprecise as to how much he took. He disdained teaspoons and drank from the bottle. This fact is very much in our favour as the habit may well have contributed to his death, in which case, it is his own negligence that is to blame, and the court can do no more than issue a stern warning to the public against similar behaviour. Now, assuming Mr Garton to have been only careless and not foolhardy, let us say that he may have taken as much as four teaspoonfuls. That would suggest he ingested one fortieth of a grain of strychnine. And, before we do any more arithmetic of this nature, I need to know the fatal dose of strychnine.’

‘For a man in good health, between one and half and three grains,’ said Frances. ‘Half a grain has been known to be fatal, but only in very rare cases.’

‘Well,’ said Mr Rawsthorne, his eyes twinkling, ‘I can see that Miss Doughty has all the answers, and I shall certainly apply to her first if I require any information!’

Herbert frowned.

‘Now I have it from Mr Garton’s medical attendant that there was no reason to suppose that he had an idiosyncrasy for strychnine, and that his indigestion was not a serious condition, and would not have made him more susceptible than the average man. Of course,’ added Rawsthorne with a knowing smile, ‘since Dr Collin was the man who prescribed the mixture for Mr Garton, he will be more than usually eager to assure us that, properly made up, it could have done him no possible harm. So, assuming that a minimum of one and a half grains would be fatal to Mr Garton, let us continue. How much strychnine is there in the entire bottle of mixture?’

‘Six twentieths of a grain,’ said Frances promptly.

‘Which we know is not enough to slay even the most debilitated of men. So the mixture as properly made up could not have caused his death. Now let us move on, and it is necessary that we do so to consider what the police are saying they believe happened. They have suggested that a more concentrated article, extract of nux vomica, was used in error for the tincture. First, can you show me where it is kept?’

They all moved into the storeroom where the bottle of extract was pointed out. Rawsthorne examined it carefully, and smelled the contents. ‘Is it safe to taste a little?’ They all nodded, and he cautiously dipped a finger into the bottle, and placed a touch of the thick liquid on his tongue, then grimaced. ‘Very bitter,’ he said. He held the bottle up to the light. I see also that it is almost full. Is this as it was on the date Mr Garton’s prescription was made up?’

‘Yes,’ said Herbert. ‘It is used only as the base extract from which to prepare the more dilute tincture, and we have prepared none in the last week.’

‘And it is always kept here, and not in the shop?’

‘It is,’ said Herbert firmly.

‘Hmm. You see, it is my experience that when mistakes are made it is because a bottle of poison has been placed on a shelf next to something innocent, and the two things look very similar, or a bottle has been improperly labelled, or not labelled at all. Many an individual would be alive today had these elementary matters been properly attended to. But here we have two bottles, one large and one small, two liquids which both look and smell distinctively different, especially to a man of experience, and are in different rooms. Clearly also, the tincture is the more commonly used article.’

Everyone assented.

‘Then if any mistake were to be made it is far more likely that a commonly used item would be mistaken for one more rarely used, and in this case it is the commonly used tincture which was the correct ingredient. The theory that the extract was mistaken for the tincture therefore runs entirely counter to our natural intuition. Still, this is the official theory so we must test it. If we consider only the strychnine content, how much more concentrated is the extract than the tincture?’

‘It is twenty times more concentrated,’ said Frances, immediately.

‘So, Miss Doughty, I am sure you will be able to tell me how much strychnine there is in four teaspoons of this mixture, had it been made with extract and not tincture.’

‘Half a grain,’ said Frances. ‘The entire bottle would have contained six grains.’

‘In other words,’ said Rawsthorne, ‘Mr Garton would have had to consume at least a quarter of the bottle, and possibly up to half, to obtain a fatal dose. All this is, of course, on the assumption that only two teaspoons of the extract was used to make the mixture, but as we have seen the bottle is almost full so it is hard to see how any more could have been used. Frankly, I think the police theory is a very poor one. First of all, we have the evidence of both Mr Doughty and Mr Munson that it was the tincture that was used, and secondly the mistaking of extract for tincture seems so very unlikely. I would also venture to say that had the extract been used, the resultant mixture would have been so bitter that he would never have consumed it in any quantity likely to be dangerous. The first sip would have told him that something was the matter. There is another theory, which has not been mentioned, that the mixture was made using the tincture, but contained a very much greater amount than two teaspoonfuls. Let us suppose therefore that the mixture was made up not with two teaspoonfuls of the tincture but two ounces. I’m sure Miss Doughty will be able to do the arithmetic if she has not already done so.’

‘Two ounces is eight times as much as in the prescription. Even if he took four times the correct dose he would only have taken two fifths of a grain of
strychnia
,’ said Frances.

Rawsthorne nodded. ‘Still less than a fatal dose. So here we have it in a nutshell: whether tincture or extract was used, any mixture which Mr Garton might have found palatable enough to consume in any quantity would not have supplied a dose of strychnine sufficient to kill him.’

‘Then we are in the clear!’ exclaimed Herbert.

‘Possibly,’ said Rawsthorne. ‘Although I see this as the point where the difficulties begin.’

There were a few moments of silence. Frances, who knew that behind the avuncular manner and cheerful smile, the solicitor was a clever man, realised that the entire conversation had been carefully steered by him to this very point. Only one piece of information was wanting.

‘Mr Rawsthorne,’ said Frances, ‘what does the analyst say about how much
strychnia
Mr Garton consumed?’

Rawsthorne nodded. ‘Ah, I wondered who would ask me that. Obviously it is not possible to be precise about these things, but he believes that Garton took at least two grains and probably as much as three.’

‘Dear Lord!’ exclaimed Herbert.

‘To take that quantity in the form of any medicine containing nux vomica, he would have had to consume a large amount of an unpleasantly bitter mixture. Now as we all know, many medicines are bitter to the taste, and some people believe that the more unpleasant the taste, the more effective the medicine, but Mr Garton had had this medicine before, and was familiar with its flavour.’

Frances recalled something Ada had said. ‘When Mr Garton took his medicine, did he make any comment about how it tasted?’

Rawsthorne nodded. ‘He did. He told Mrs Garton he believed that it was more bitter than he was used to.’

Herbert hid his face in his hands and groaned.

‘But not, I think, so bitter he could not drink it,’ said Frances.

‘That seems to be the case,’ agreed Rawsthorne.

‘Has the analyst said anything about the presence of the other constituents of nux vomica?’ she asked. ‘You should know that it contains another, less poisonous alkaloid,
brucia
. If, as the police suggest, the extract had been used, or if, as you have said, too great an amount of tincture, then not only would the
strychnia
content of the medicine be increased but the
brucia
also.’

Rawsthorne unrolled the bundle of papers under his arm, and examined them carefully, but the answer to this question was obviously not there. ‘Thank you, Miss Doughty, I will make enquiries on this point,’ he said.

‘Does the report mention any dyestuffs?’ asked Herbert. ‘Vermin killers may be freely purchased by almost anyone at sixpence apiece, each of which contains sufficient
strychnia
to kill a man. To protect the unwary they are dyed with Prussian blue or mixed with soot, yet despite that one often hears of them causing death, either by accident or intent.’

‘I see no mention in the report of those substances, but I will enquire,’ said Rawsthorne. He paused, and surveyed the anxious faces that surrounded him. ‘There is, of course, one other possible source of strychnine, the pure article, but I assume that you do not carry this as a rule.’

Frances shook her head, and Herbert said, ‘It is not something we keep or use.’

Rawsthorne was bundling his notes when William said. ‘Pure
strychnia
! Yes. We do have some, but – oh – it was a long time ago – a very long time …’ All eyes turned to William as he ran his hands though his hair, trying to remember.

‘Surely, Sir, we can have it no longer,’ said Herbert. ‘I have never been aware of such a thing here.’

‘But there was – is, I think.’ William began to search the shelves and behind a range of bottles found a small metal box. Frances recalled that the box contained samples of items that were never used medicinally but had been produced when her father had been training Frederick. As a precaution it was always kept locked and neither she nor Herbert had access to it. William rummaged in his pockets for what seemed for the anxious watchers to be a great length of time, before he found a bunch of keys. There was a further delay as the right key was identified, and the lid opened. The box contained a number of small glass phials and paper packets. ‘Long ago, now,’ he muttered, ‘instructional demonstration of methods. No reason to destroy the materials – one never knows when they could be required.’ Frances made a mental note to go though the box at the earliest opportunity. ‘It was not a large amount, about thirty grains, it was in a small phial with a label, well corked and sealed, of course.’

‘When did you last see it?’ asked Rawsthorne.

‘Oh – I really couldn’t say.’ After a minute or two William stopped searching and sighed. ‘I am certain it was there!’ Herbert took the box and conducted a more methodical search but eventually looked up at the others and shook his head.

‘Well, this is interesting,’ said Rawsthorne, solemnly, ‘and unexpected. Assuming that Mr Doughty is correct about the presence of pure strychnine in the box, then we must wonder why it is no longer there. Was it employed for some valid purpose or destroyed long ago, in which case it is no longer our concern? Or has it only recently disappeared? Miss Doughty, some more arithmetic if you please. Based on thirty grains of pure strychnine in Mr Garton’s bottle and his taking four teaspoons of mixture, how much strychnine would he have consumed?’

Frances made the calculations carefully and then checked them again before she spoke. ‘Two and a half grains.’

‘Dear me,’ said Mr Rawsthorne.

There followed several moments of silence.

‘Mr Rawsthorne, I would appreciate your observations on our present position,’ said Frances.

‘Well, Miss Doughty, we were trotting along very merrily until now,’ said Rawsthorne. ‘We agreed that any medicine containing enough nux vomica to account for what was found in the body would have been too unpleasant to take by accident in any dangerous quantity. We established that, however constituted, there could not have been a fatal amount of strychnine in Mr Garton’s usual dose or even double that. It was my intention to suggest to the court that Mr Garton died of poison administered to him either in some article other than his medicine, or added to his medicine by a malevolent hand after it left here. That would have raised sufficient doubts to clear Mr Doughty of any suspicion. However, the presence of pure strychnine in the shop does add something of a complication.’

‘A court might well be persuaded that a mistake is possible between the tincture and the extract, or in the amount used of either,’ said Frances, ‘but surely you are not suggesting for a moment that my father went to this box, unlocked it and added a deadly amount of pure
strychnia
to Mr Garton’s medicine! That is not an error one might make.’