Chapter 2 Chapter Two Half Bitter Sweet

On the night of the murder at Bellegar House, Marcus Chesney's country residence, Inspector Eliot left London in his beloved car and arrived at Sodbury Cross at eleven-thirty.It was a clear night, warm for October 3rd. This, he thought gloomily, was ordained.When Chief Inspector Headley asked him to take the case, he kept his mind secret.It wasn't just a scene from Pompeii that haunted him, but the scandal at the pharmacy. "As usual," Hadley grumbled sharply, "we're called in when the case is at a standstill. That case was almost four months ago! You did a good case before, so you might be able to do something; but don't be too Optimistic. Do you understand the case?"

"I—read some reports of it at the time, sir." "Well, the case has been fired again. Ever since the Chesney family came back from their overseas trip, nothing seems to be right. Anonymous letters, graffiti on the walls. Poisoning children is a nasty thing." Elliot hesitated.There was vague anger in his mind: "They think the Chesneys did it, don't they?" "I don't know. Chief of Police Major Crowe has his own ideas. Crowe is not as calm as he appears on the surface, he is prone to obsessed with certain ideas, but he also gives you the facts. He is a good man, you work under him Must be nice. Oh, and Phil's around here if you need help. He's in the baths in Bath, so you might as well ring him up and get his opinion."

Young, earnest, Scottish-looking Andrew McAndrew Elliott was rather excited to hear that the Doctor was nearby.He thought he would tell Dr. Phil what was on his mind, and Dr. Phil was the kind of person who would listen. He arrived at Sodbury Cross, halfway between town and country, and stopped at the police station.It's a market town, close to the London Highway, so traffic is pretty heavy, and at night it's a dead city, with Elliot's headlights waking up the dead windows; the only light is the one above Queen Victoria's jubilee drinking fountain bell. Major Crowe and Inspector Bostrick were waiting for him in the inspector's office at the police station.

"Sorry for being late, sir," Elliott told Major Crowe, "I got a flat tire on Kearney Street, and—" "Oh, never mind," said the chief of police, "we're night owls. Where are you staying?" "Inspector General recommends 'Blue Lion.'" "It couldn't be better. Do you want to go now? Or hear about the case first?" "I should like to hear about the case, sir, if it is not too late for you." There was silence in the office save for the ticking of the clock; the gas lamps flickered.Major Crowe took out a cigarette case.He was a small, mild-mannered, soft-voiced man, with a clean-shaven gray mustache; he was immediately recognizable as a soldier, and his success seemed unthinkable, but once you got in touch with him, you knew what his success was. here.The chief of police lit his cigarette and hesitated for a moment, his eyes on the floor.

He said: "I'm the one to apologize to you, Inspector. We should have called Scotland Yard earlier if we were going to call you anyway. But there's been a commotion over the last few days because Chesney Returned home with his family and friends. People thought the case would be clear soon," he smiled innocently, "because Scotland Yard was going to get involved. Now, many people want us to arrest a man named Marjorie Wells girl, but there is not enough evidence." Elliott was silent. "If you knew Mrs. Terry's," continued Major Crowe, "you'd understand the difficulty. You've seen hundreds of them. It was a very small place, narrow and deep. On the left there was There's a tobacco and cigarettes counter, there's a candy counter on the right, and there's a turning-only passage in the middle to the back of the store, where there's a little library. Understand?"

Elliot nodded. "There were only three tobacco and confectionery shops in Sodbury Cross; Mrs. Terry's was the best, and everybody went there. She was a happy lady, and quite a business. Her husband died and left her five children." .Understand?" Elliot nodded again. "You also know how candy is sold in that kind of shop. Some of the candy is in glass display cases, but there are many of them in glass jars or open boxes on the counter. At Mrs. Terry's, in There are five slightly slanted open boxes above the display case. Three boxes of cream pralines, one box of hard chocolate, and one box of small pieces of milk candy. Now, suppose you want to put in poisoned chocolate, there is no better way than It's easier! You buy some chocolate elsewhere—Mrs. Syringe, and inject a drop or two into a few bars of chocolate. Nobody knows. Then you enter Mrs. Terry's shop with the chocolate hidden in the palm of your hand. You want to buy cigarettes, so Mrs. Terry goes behind the cigarette counter. For example, you want to buy fifty or a hundred Players cigarettes, so not only does she have to turn away, but she has to reach for the pack of cigarettes on the shelf. When her back is turned, you reach behind you and take the prepared chocolate. Put it in a box. Hundreds of people came in and out of that store in a day, who knew you did it?" He stood up, his face flushed slightly.

"Is that the case, sir?" asked Elliott. "Wait! This man takes pleasure in killing, doesn't care who he kills, and is getting away with it. We have nothing to do with him. First, I want to tell you about Marcus Chesney, his family and associates. Chess Nenny lives in a big house about a quarter of a mile from here; you've probably seen the big house. Nice, new place, everything is stylish and good quality. It's called Bellegar House, after Named after a type of peach." "A kind of what, sir?" "A kind of peach," replied the Constable. "Ever heard of Chesney's famous greenhouse? No? He has a half-acre greenhouse. His father and his grandfather grow the most expensive peaches in the world. Horse Coos carried on the family business. The peaches are the big ones you can get for a hell of a lot of money in West End hotels. He grows peaches out of season; he says the sun or the climate has nothing to do with the growth; he says the secret is his secret, The secret is worth a lot of money. He grows Bellegarde, Early Silver and Roval Rippener. It's a lucrative business, I hear he makes six figures a year."

At this moment Major Crowe stopped and looked sharply at his guest. "As for the guy Chesney," he went on, "he's not very popular locally. He's mean, he's ruthless. People either dislike him very much or pay him homage of tolerance. You know the little hotel Someone in it said, 'Oh, he's a character, old Chesney is a character!' and shook his head, chuckled under his breath, and drank a large glass of wine. Many people thought the family was weird, but no one knew what. "Marjorie Wells was his niece, the daughter of his dead sister. She seemed to be a pretty good girl, and everyone knew that. But she had a bad temper. Despite her innocent appearance, I heard that she sometimes Use language that would surprise a major.

"Then Dr. Joe Chesney. He redeemed the family; everybody loved him. He walked around like a roaring cow, but I don't trust him very much, even though he has many endorsements. He Not living with Marcus - Marcus doesn't want Bellegar House mixed with the clinic, he lives nearby. Then quiet, elegant, retired professor named Ingram - Marcus's good friend He had a small house on the same road and he was thought highly of by the people around him. Besides, the superintendent or foreman of the Chesney Greenhouse was a guy named Emmett, and no one cared about him. "Ah! June seventeenth is Thursday, and it's market day, and there's a lot of people in town. I think we can be sure there's no poisoned chocolate in Mrs. Terry's shop before June seventeenth. The reason was this: She had five children, and one of them had a birthday on the sixteenth. Mrs. Terry threw a little birthday party for him that evening. For the party, she took a Take the sugar. No one ever feels sick from eating sugar.

"We got a list of the people who went in and out of Mrs. Terry's shop on June 17th. It was not difficult to get the list, because most people borrow books from the small library, and Mrs. Terry kept a record. We It is confirmed that there are no strangers in the store that day. By the way, Marcus Chesney has been in the store. Dr. Joe Chesney has also been in the store. But Professor Ingram and Emmett did not enter the store inside." Elliott took out his notebook and read the notes he had made: "How is Miss Wells?" he asked—conscious again of the warm night, the burning gas lamps, and the worried eyes of the police chief.

"I was about to say," continued Major Crowe, "that Miss Wells was not in the store that day. She drove her uncle's car to Sodbury Cross about four o'clock in the afternoon, almost after school. She went to Pax's butcher's to make a small complaint. As she walked out of the butcher's shop, she met eight-year-old Frank Dale. According to many people, she liked Frank very much. An eyewitness heard her say to Frank, 'Oh, Frank, come over to Mrs Terry's and buy me a threepenny bonbon, will you?' She handed Frank a sixpence piece. "Mrs. Terry's shop is about fifty yards from the butcher's. Frank does what Miss Wells says. As I said, there are three boxes of pralines on top of the glass case. Frank, like most children, can't tell the difference. He is determined. pointed to the middle box and said: 'I want the threepence one.'" "Wait a minute, sir," interposed Elliott, "did anyone else buy a bonbon that day?" "No. Licorice, chocolate bars and lollipops are all doing well, but no one is buying pralines that day." "Please go on." "Mrs. Terry weighed him. The chocolate was a quarter pound and sixpence; he bought two ounces, exactly six bars. Then Frank went back to Miss Wells with the chocolate in a little paper bag. It was a rainy day. , Miss Wells was wearing a raincoat with deep pockets. She put the paper bag in the pocket. Then, as if changing her mind, she took out the paper bag. She took out a paper bag, understand?" "clear." "She opened the paper bag, looked in, and said, 'Frank, you got a small chocolate with a white filling. I want a large chocolate with a pink filling. Go back and change it with Mrs. Terry, will you?' Terry The madam had to change, of course. She poured the chocolates into the middle box, and bagged the chocolates from the box on the right. Frank took the chocolates back to Miss Wells, and she said he would keep the threepence left. "The next thing," said Major Crowe, taking a deep breath, and looking coldly at the listener, "is this. Frank didn't spend his threepence; he went home to tea, but when he was done he Back again. Whether he had decided to buy a bonbon, I don't know, but he spent twopence on white bonbons and a penny on licorice. Around six-fifteen, a man who worked for the Andersons, A maid named Lois Cotton brought Anderson's two children into the store and bought a half-pound of pralines from three boxes. "People who ate the middle box of chocolates complained about the bitterness of the chocolate. Poor little Frank was not spared because he bought the chocolate in the middle twopence box. He gulped down the chocolate, and the pain set in about an hour later, and he Passed away in great agony at eleven o'clock that night. The two Anderson children and Lois Cotton were more fortunate. Little Dorothy Anderson took a bite of the chocolate, which she cried out, saying it was too bitter to eat. Lois Ess Cotten took a bite out of curiosity. Tommy Anderson yelled that he would take a bite too. Lois took another bite of the chocolate, also bitter. She thought the chocolate was spoiled and put it in the Going back to her purse, and going to find time to complain to Mrs. Terry. None of the three died, but Lois narrowly escaped death that night. All three were poisoned with strychnine." Major Crowe paused. .He had been speaking calmly, but Elliot didn't like the look in his eyes.After lighting his cigarette, he sat down. He went on: "I've been here for twelve years and I've never seen a commotion like this. The earliest reports were that Mrs. Terry was selling poisoned chocolate, so all the blame fell on her and some people felt Like poisoned chocolate at any moment, Mrs. Terry freaked out. You know what? She screamed and cried and covered her face with an apron. They smashed her windows; Frank Dale's father was a little out of his mind. "But within a day or two they got more sane and started asking questions. Joe Chesney in the bar at the 'Blue Lion' frankly said it was a deliberate poisoning. He had nursed Frank. Frank ate three bars of chocolate, It was equivalent to swallowing six and a quarter of strychnine jelly. One sixteenth mile of strychnine was a fatal dose. The other three victims ate two strychnine jelly. The middle box left The chocolates she bought were sent for testing and analysis, and two of them contained more than two gels of strychnine; Lois Cotton bought two chocolates, in addition to the two she shared with her children. In other words, ten bars of chocolate were poisoned, and each bar contained far more toxins than lethal amounts—someone killed without mercy. "Now, quite simply, there are three possible scenarios: "First, Mrs. Terry poisoned the chocolate on purpose. After the initial commotion, no one believed it. "Second, someone walks into the shop during the day and adds poisoned chocolate to the middle box when Mrs. Terry turns away. As I just told you. "The third, by Marjorie Wells. When Frank brought her a bag of harmless pralines, she had an identical bag of poisonous chocolate in her raincoat pocket. She put the harmless chocolate in the pocket, took out the poisoned chocolate, and asked Frank to take it back to the store and exchange it. So the poisoned chocolate was poured into the middle box. Understand?" Elliott frowned: "Understood, sir, I understand. But—" "That's it!" said the major, looking hypnotically at his visitor, "I know what you're going to say. There's something strange. She bought six chocolates, but in the middle box there were ten poisoned ones. If she replaced the bag with six chocolates, where did the extra four come from? If the bag instead contained ten chocolates instead of six, wouldn't Mrs. Terry notice it when she poured the chocolates into the box? " So far Inspector Postrek has said nothing, and the stocky man has been sitting with his arms folded, looking at the calendar.Now he cleared his throat: "Some people," he said, "thought Marjorie Wells couldn't have done it, but she had a bad temper." He cleared his throat again, and went on, "Whether Scotland Yard If you don't participate, we all have to catch the bloody murderer." The power of the words trembled in the warm room.Major Crowe looked at Elliott. "Bostrick has a name for justice," he said. "If he thinks that, what do you think other people think?" "I see," Elliott trembled inwardly, "everyone thinks Miss Wells—" "You've got to find out for yourself. People don't usually go into the details like we do, and that's the problem. At first, everyone was dumbfounded by the absurdity of this; The famous poisoned murder in Leyton is exactly the same, although most of the Blue Lion's customers don't know it. You've heard of the Christina Edmonds case in 1871, haven't you? Her trick with poisoned chocolate made The kid went back to the shop with the poisoned chocolate and exchanged it, exactly the same way. I guess, hid the same paper bag in her muff, and tricked the kid by tricks." Elliott pondered. "If I remember correctly," he said, "Christina Edmonds went mad. She died at Broadmoor." "That's right," the major agreed gruffly. "Some people think the girl is going crazy too." After a pause he went on speculatively, "but there's something wrong with saying she's the murderer. Drugs do not seem to be connected, and there is no way to prove that she bought, borrowed, found or stole them. The local answer to this is simple: Dr. Chesney likes her, and Joe Chesney is said to be the kind who will mess around. The one who put the stuff. Yes, he has strychnine in his clinic, but he has already calculated the total for us. "Secondly, Mrs. Terry swore there were only six chocolates in the paper bag that Frank Dale brought home. "Besides, if Marjorie Wells was really guilty of this crime, she was too bold. Her situation is different from that of Christina Edmonds. After all, Brighton It's a big place, and a woman who trades children for chocolates probably won't be identified. But this girl, staying in a small place like Sodbury Cross, could speak to boys who knew her in front of witnesses? Snare! If she's going to poison the chocolate, she's going to do it in the way I told you was totally out of the question. No, Inspector, there's no point in saying she's a murderer: we're going down Arrest her at will. Besides, I hope she's not a murderer. She's a nice little person and nothing can be said against her except 'the Chesneys are freaks.'" "Did the idea that she was the murderer come about before the Chesney family went on vacation abroad?" "Well, there are signs. It didn't surface until they left the country. Now that they're back, it's even more so. Our Inspector General is worried that radicals will come out and destroy Marcus's greenhouse. But I don't think so. The local lads talk a lot, but they're patient, and expect the police to do their best. They won't be violent unless the police don't. My God, I'll try!" said the major gloomily, "I'm Having kids, I don't like it as much as anyone else. Also, Marcus Chesney has a weird attitude. He came back from Continental and yelled about revenge, that he was going to fix things for us. In fact, I know he Just came here the day before yesterday and asked some ridiculous questions!" - Elliot pricked up his ears. "Really?" demanded Elliott. "What's the question, sir?" The Chief of Police gave Inspector Postrek a questioning look.The latter looked like he wanted to talk. "Marcus wants to know," Inspector Postrek said sarcastically, "the exact size of the box of chocolates on Mrs. Terry's counter. I asked him why he wanted to know, and he lost his temper and said it was none of my business. I said he Better ask Mrs. Terry." The Superintendent chuckled. "He said he had another question to ask me; but, as I was a big fool, he didn't want to, but I'd pay the consequences. He said he He always knew I was short of observation, but now he also knows I'm brainless." "'Most people can't properly interpret what they see or hear,' the major explained, "seemed to be his obsession." "I know," Elliott said. "you know?" Elliott didn't have time to answer the question because the phone rang.Major Crowe looked impatiently at the clock, which was ticking across the room, and the hands were pointing to twenty past twelve.Postrick staggered over to answer the phone, while Elliott and the chief of police were lost in vague, uncomfortable dreams.The major was tired and depressed, and so was Elliott.It was Bostrick's shrill voice that woke them up. "Sir?" Major Crowe turned suddenly and rapped on the chair. "It's Dr. Joe," said the Inspector heavily. "You'd better talk to him, sir." There was a drop of sweat on his brow, though his eyes were calm.He handed over the phone. Major Crow answered the phone and listened quietly for about a minute.Elliott could hear the chatter of the phone in the silence, but he couldn't make out what was being said.Then the chief of police carefully hung up the phone. "It's Joe Chesney," he repeated somewhat redundantly. "Marcus is dead. Doctors believe he died of cyanide poisoning." Again the ticking of the clock filled the room, and Major Crowe cleared the room. Clearing his throat, "it seems," he went on, "Marcus proved his triumphant theory with his last breath. The doctor meant that everyone saw him being poisoned, yet no one could articulate what happened. What's the matter?"