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Chapter 8
I
Blore was easily roped in. He expressed immediate agreement with their
arguments.
‘What you’ve said about those china figures, sir, makes all the differ-
ence. That’s crazy, that is! There’s only one thing. You don’t think this
Owen’s idea might be to do the job by proxy, as it were?’
‘Explain yourself, man.’
‘Well, I mean like this. After the racket last night this young Marston
gets the wind up and poisons himself. And Rogers, he gets the wind up too
and bumps off his wife! All according to U.N.O’s plan.’
Armstrong shook his head. He stressed the point about the cyanide.
Blore agreed.
‘Yes, I’d forgotten that. Not a natural thing to be carrying about with
you. But how did it get into his drink, sir?’
Lombard said:
‘I’ve been thinking about that. Marston had several drinks that night.
Between the time he had his last one and the time he finished the one be-
fore it, there was quite a gap. During that time his glass was lying about on
some table or other. I think—though I can’t be sure, it was on the little
table near the window. The window was open. Somebody could have
slipped a dose of the cyanide into the glass.’
Blore said unbelievingly:
‘Without our all seeing him, sir?’
Lombard said dryly:
‘We were all—rather concerned elsewhere.’
Armstrong said slowly:
‘That’s true. We’d all been attacked. We were walking about, moving
about the room. Arguing, indignant, intent on our own business. I think it
could have been done…’
Blore shrugged his shoulders.
‘Fact is, it must have been done! Now then, gentlemen, let’s make a start.
Nobody’s got a revolver, by any chance? I suppose that’s too much to hope
for.’
Lombard said:
‘I’ve got one.’ He patted his pocket.
Blore’s eyes opened very wide. He said in an over-casual tone:
‘Always carry that about with you, sir?’
Lombard said:
‘Usually. I’ve been in some tight places, you know.’
‘Oh,’ said Blore and added: ‘Well, you’ve probably never been in a
tighter place than you are today! If there’s a lunatic hiding on this island,
he’s probably got a young arsenal on him—to say nothing of a knife or
dagger or two.’
Armstrong coughed.
‘You may be wrong there, Blore. Many homicidal lunatics are very quiet
unassuming people. Delightful fellows.’
Blore said:
‘I don’t feel this one is going to be of that kind, Dr Armstrong.’
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