The doctor threw her a sharp glance. Then he seemed to come to a decision.
"It was arsenic," he said.
"Arsenic?" Susan stared. "You mean somebody gave her arsenic?"
"That's what it looks like."
"Could she have taken it herself? Deliberately, I mean?"
"Suicide? She says not and she should know. Besides, if she wanted
to commit suicide she wouldn't be likely to choose arsenic. There are
sleeping pills in this house. She could have taken an overdose of them."
"Could the arsenic have got into something by accident?"
"That's what I'm wondering. It seems very unlikely, but such things have been known. But if you and she ate the same things -"
Susan nodded. She said, "It all seems impossible -" then she gave a sudden gasp. "Why, of course, the wedding cake!"
"What's that? Wedding cake?"
Susan explained. The doctor listened with close attention.
"Odd. And you say she wasn't sure who sent it? Any of it left? Or is the box it came in lying around?"
"I don't know. I'll look."
They searched together and finally found the white cardboard box
with a few crumbs of cake still in it lying on the kitchen dresser. The
doctor packed it away with some care.
"I'll take charge of this. Any idea where the wrapping paper it came in might be?"
Here they were not successful and Susan said that it had probably gone into the Ideal boiler.
"You won't be leaving here just yet, Mrs Banks?"
His tone was genial, but it made Susan feel a little uncomfortable.
