The inspector nodded. “I see. And no doctor had prescribed anything of this kind for her?”
“No. Certainly not. I’m sure of that.”
“Who was her doctor?”
“She was on Dr. Sim’s panel, but I don’t think she’s been to him once since we’ve been here.”
Inspector Cornish said thoughtfully, “So she doesn’t seem the kind of woman to have been likely to need such a thing, or to have taken it?”
“She didn’t, Inspector, I’m sure she didn’t. She must have taken it by a mistake of some kind.”
“It’s a very difficult mistake to imagine,” said Inspector Cornish. “What did she have to eat and drink that afternoon?”
“Well, let me see. For lunch—”
“You needn’t go back as far as lunch,” said Cornish. “Given in such quantity the drug would act quickly and suddenly. Tea. Go back to tea.”
“Well, we went into the marquee in the grounds. It was a terrible scrum in there, but we managed in the end to get a bun each and a cup of tea. We finished it as quickly as possible because it was very hot in the marquee and we came out again.”
“And that’s all she had, a bun and a cup of tea there?”
“That’s right, sir.”
“And after that you went into the house. Is that right?”
“Yes. The young lady came and said that Miss Marina Gregg would be very pleased to see my wife if she would like to come into the house. Of course my wife was delighted. She had been talking about Marina Gregg for days. Everybody was excited. Oh well, you know that, Inspector, as well as anyone does.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Cornish. “My wife was excited, too. Why, from all around people were paying their shilling to go in and see Gossington Hall and what had been done there, and hoped to catch a glimpse of Marina Gregg herself.”
“The young lady took us into the house,” said Arthur Badcock, “and up the stairs. That’s where the party was. On the landing up there. But it looked quite different from what it used to look like, so I understand. It was more like a room, a sort of big hollowed out place with chairs and tables with drinks on them. There were about ten or twelve people there, I suppose.”
Inspector Cornish nodded. “And you were received there—by whom?”
“By Miss Marina Gregg herself. Her husband was with her. I’ve forgotten his name now.”
“Jason Rudd,” said Inspector Cornish.
“Oh, yes, not that I noticed him at first. Well, anyway, Miss Gregg greeted Heather very nicely and seemed very pleased to see her, and Heather was talking and telling a story of how she’d once met Miss Gregg years ago in the West Indies and everything seemed as right as rain.”
“Everything seemed as right as rain,” echoed the inspector. “And then?”
“And then Miss Gregg said what would we have? And Miss Gregg’s husband, Mr. Rudd, got Heather a kind of cocktail, a dickery or something like that.”
“A daiquiri.”
“That’s right, sir. He brought two. One for her and one for Miss Gregg.”
“And you, what did you have?”
“I had a sherry.”
“I see. And you three stood there drinking together?”
“Well, not quite like that. You see there were more people coming up the stairs. There was the ma