Mr Entwhistle looked at Dr Larraby thoughtfully.
He had had a lifetime of experience in summing people up. There had
been frequent occasions on which it had been necessary to tackle a
difficult situation or a delicate subject. Mr Entwhistle was an adept by
now in the art of how exactly to make the proper approach. How would it
be best to tackle Dr Larraby on what was certainly a very difficult
subject and one which the doctor might very well resent as reflecting
upon his own professional skill?
Frankness, Mr Entwhistle thought - or at least a modified
frankness. To say that suspicions had arisen because of a haphazard
suggestion thrown out by a silly woman would be ill-advised. Dr Larraby
had not known Cora.
Mr Entwhistle cleared his throat and plunged bravely.
"I want to consult you on a very delicate matter," he said. "You
may be offended, but I sincerely hope not. You are a sensible man and
you will realise, I'm sure, that a - er - preposterous suggestion is
best dealt with by finding a reasonable answer and not by condemning it
out of hand. It concerns my client, the late Mr Abernethie. I'll ask you
my question flat out. Are you certain, absolutely certain, that he died
what is termed a natural death?"
Dr Larraby's good-humoured, rubicund middle-aged face turned in astonishment on his questioner.
"What on earth - Of course he did. I gave a certificate, didn't I? If I hadn't been satisfied -"
Mr Entwhistle cut in adroitly:
"Naturally, naturally. I assure you that I am not assuming anything
to the contrary. But I would be glad to have your positive assurance -
in face of the - er - rumours that are flying around."
"Rumours? What rumours?"
"One doesn't know quite how these things start," said Mr Entwhistle
mendaciously. "But my feeling is that they should be stopped -
authoritatively, if possible."
"Abernethie was a sick man. He was suffering from a disease that
would have proved fatal within, I should say, at the earliest, two
years. It might have come much sooner. His son's death had weakened his
will to live, and his powers of resistance. I admit that I did not
expect his death to come so soon, or indeed so suddenly, but there are
precedents - plenty of precedents. Any medical man who predicts exactly
when a patient will die, or exactly how long he will live, is bound to
make a fool of himself. The human factor is always incalculable. The
weak have often unexpected powers of resistance, the strong sometimes
succumb."
"I understand all that. I am not doubting your diagnosis. Mr
Abernethie was, shall we say (rather melodramatically, I'm afraid) under
sentence of death. All I'm asking you is, is it quite impossible that a
man, knowing or suspecting that he is doomed, might of his own accord
shorten that period of life? Or that someone else might do it for him?"
Dr Larraby frowned.
