Mystery at Olympia. John Rhode

from twenty-four is nine,’ he said. ‘Allowing for the four eaten by Jessie, we have five to account for.’

      ‘That’s right,’ Mrs Markle replied. ‘Today is Monday, and Mr Pershore started this bottle on Wednesday last, five days ago.’

      Hanslet nodded. ‘It all seems to fit in,’ he said. ‘Thank you, Mrs Markle. We needn’t trouble you any longer. The doctor and I will stay here and have a quiet chat. I wonder if you would mind asking Mr Bryant if he would be good enough to join us?’

      Mrs Markle went out, closing the door behind her. ‘I’m glad I thought of locking up this room as soon as I got here,’ the superintendent continued. ‘I took the precaution of locking up Mr Pershore’s bedroom and dressing-room, too, till I had time to go through them. I thought I might find something fishy, as soon as I heard there was a case of poisoning in the house. And, from what I can see, somebody has deliberately attempted to murder Mr Pershore.’

      As he spoke, he returned the suspected olives to their bottle, and marked this ‘B.’ ‘I’ll have both bottles analysed at once,’ he continued. ‘Now, if the olives from this cupboard are found to contain arsenic, how did the poison get into them? It’s very unlikely that it did so before they left the grocer’s. Mrs Markle opened the bottle and gave it to Jessie. Now, you know more about this household than I do, doctor. Can you think of any reason why either of them should want to poison their employer?’

      Doctor Formby shook his head. ‘Quite frankly, I can’t,’ he replied. ‘And, what’s more, it would take a lot to persuade me that either of them had anything to do with it. You haven’t lost sight of the fact that this bottle has been left open in an unlocked cupboard since Wednesday?’

      ‘I haven’t. The point is, who had access to it? The members of the household, in the first place. Then anyone who came to the house. But whoever poisoned the olives must have had a pretty intimate knowledge of Mr Pershore’s habits. Do you happen to know anything about these Chantley people that Mrs Markle mentioned?’

      ‘I believe I met them once when I was dining here. I remember her. She was a rather pretty, foreign looking woman. But I’m afraid I can’t tell you much more than that.’

      ‘Bryant will know all these people, I suppose. That’s why I asked Mrs Markle to send him along. Ah, here he is, I think.’

      But, when the door opened, it was only the housekeeper who appeared. ‘I’m very sorry, superintendent, but I can’t find Mr Bryant,’ she said. ‘His coat and hat aren’t in the hall. I think he must have gone back to London.’

      Hanslet frowned. ‘I’d like to have seen him before he went,’ he replied. ‘Never mind. Come and sit down, Mrs Markle. I daresay you will be able to tell me what I want to know.’

      Doctor Formby looked at his watch. ‘Have you anything else you want to ask me, Mr Hanslet?’ he asked.

      ‘Not just now, thank you, doctor.’

      ‘Very well, I’ll just run up and have one more look at Jessie, and then I’ll get home.’

      Hanslet, left alone with Mrs Markle, adopted a disarming tone. ‘You will understand that I want as much information about Mr Pershore as possible,’ he said. ‘And not only about him, but about his friends and relations as well. We’ll begin with his relations. You have already told me about Mr Bryant and Miss Rissington. Are there any others?’

      ‘No, for Mr Pershore’s sisters are both dead, and so are their husbands. Oh, but I was forgetting. There was Micah Pershore, of course. But I don’t think that he has been heard of for years.’

      ‘The family seem to have indulged in Biblical names,’ Hanslet remarked. ‘Who was Micah Pershore?’

      ‘Mr Pershore’s half-brother. Mr Pershore’s father was married twice. Micah was his son by his first wife, and Mr Pershore and his two sisters his family by his second wife. Micah was quite a boy when his father married again. He never got on very well with his stepmother, and he went abroad as soon as he was old enough. I don’t think that he ever came home, and I never heard of him writing to any of the family after his father’s death. I don’t even know that he is still alive.’

      ‘Well, now we come to Mr Pershore’s friends. You mentioned some people of the name of Chantley, just now. Were they particular friends of his?’

      Mrs Markle’s eyes narrowed for an instant. ‘Mr Pershore and Mr Chantley were very friendly at one time,’ she replied. ‘Mr and Mrs Chantley were often here for the weekend, but they haven’t been down lately. Not since the beginning of the year.’

      ‘Has there been a quarrel, or a disagreement of any kind?’

      It seemed to Hanslet that Mrs Markle hesitated for an instant. ‘Not that I am aware of,’ she replied.

      The superintendent did not press her. ‘What visitors did you have in the house last week?’ he asked.

      ‘Let me see now. There was Miss Betty, of course. She was staying here all the week. But you can hardly count her as a visitor, since she is here as much as she is away. Then Mr Bryant came to lunch on Sunday, yesterday, that is, and stayed till after dinner. Mrs Bryant was to have come too, but she had a cold and stayed at home. The only other visitor we had last week was Mrs Sulgrave. She drove over on Friday and lunched with Miss Betty.’

      ‘Who is Mrs Sulgrave?’

      ‘She’s the wife of Mr George Sulgrave, who is the son of old Mr Sulgrave, who was a great friend of Mr Pershore’s. Mr and Mrs Sulgrave live in a house called High Elms, in Byfleet, quite close. They often drive over. Mr Sulgrave has something to do with the motor business, but I don’t know exactly what it is.’

      ‘Had Mr Pershore any other intimate friends?’

      ‘Only Mr Odin Hardisen, who lives at Wells in Somersetshire. They used to see a lot of one another. Mr Hardisen used to come and stay here, and Mr Pershore would go and spend a few days with him at Wells. But I have an idea that they had fallen out about something.’

      ‘What gives you that idea, Mrs Markle? Did Mr Pershore say anything to you about it?’

      ‘No. It was Miss Betty who asked me if I knew anything. She likes Mr Hardisen, and she told me that she asked her uncle one day why he never came here now. He told her not to talk to him about the damned scoundrel Hardisen. Those were the very words Mr Pershore used, so Miss Betty told me.’

      ‘And you’ve no idea why he called Mr Hardisen a damned scoundrel?’

      ‘None at all. Mr Pershore has never so much as mentioned him to me.’

      Hanslet made mental notes of all that Mrs Markle told him. Although they seemed to be straying a long way from the suspected olives, this information might come in useful later. And now he ventured to put a question which had been all the while at the back of his mind. ‘It’s rather a delicate subject, Mrs Markle,’ he said, ‘but do you know anything about the contents of Mr Pershore’s will? Who he has left his money to, I mean?’

      ‘Only what Miss Betty has told me. Mr Pershore never mentioned the matter to me himself.’

      ‘And what did Miss Rissington tell you?’

      ‘That her uncle had left her most of his money. Anything that might be over was to go to Mr Bryant.’

      ‘Has Miss Rissington been informed of her uncle’s death?’

      ‘Not yet. You see, I don’t know where she is, and Mr Bryant doesn’t either. She left here this morning with Mr Pershore, and went up to London with him. She told me she wouldn’t be back for a few days, but she didn’t tell me where she was going.’

      Having secured from Mrs Markle Bryant’s address. Hanslet brought his conversation with her to an end. There was nothing more for him to do at Firlands for the present. He returned to London, taking the two bottles of olives with him. On his arrival at Scotland Yard he handed these over for analysis, asking for