“Quite, quite.” Lomas held out his hand; Major Dean took it. “Yes, I’m so sorry, but you see we must take charge of everything for the present.” He let the Major’s hand go and still held out his own. Dean flushed. “What, his keys?” “Thank you,” said Lomas, and at last received them. “I was thinking about his papers, you know.” “I can promise you they’ll be safe.” “Oh, well, that settles it!” Dean laughed. “You know where to find me,” and he took his wife, who was plainly eager to speak to him, away. Lomas dandled the keys in his hand. “I wonder what’s in their minds? And what’s in yours, Fortune?” “Man was murdered,” said Reggie. Lomas groaned, “I was afraid you had that for me. But surely it’s not possible?” “It ought not to be,” Reggie admitted. “At a quarter to one he was quite alive, rather bored perhaps, but as fit as me. At a quarter past he was dead. What happened in between?” “Why, he was in sight the whole time----” “All among the most respectable people in England. Yet he dies suddenly of asphyxia and heart failure. Why?” “Well, some obscure heart trouble----” Lomas protested. “He was in the pink. He never used doctors. You heard them say so. He hadn’t even been to an oculist.” “A fellow doesn’t always know,” Lomas urged. “There are all sorts of heart weakness.” “Not this sort.” Reggie shook his head. “And the eyes. Did you see how those two were afraid of his eyes? Your eyes won’t look like that when you die of heart failure. They might if an oculist had put belladonna in ’em to examine you. But there was no oculist. Dilated pupils, foam at the mouth, cold flesh. He was poisoned. It might have been aconitine. But aconitine don’t kill so quick or quite so quiet.” “What is aconitine?” “Oh, wolf-bane. Blue-rocket. You can get it from other plants. Only this is too quick. It slew him like prussic acid and much more peacefully. Some alkaloid poison of the aconite family, possibly unclassified. Probably it was put into him by that fresh puncture in his hand while he was packed in the crowd, just a scratch, just a jab with a hollow needle. An easy murder if you could trust your stuff. And when we do the post-mortem we’ll find that everything points to death by a poison we can’t trace.” “Thanks, so much,” said Lomas. “It is for this we employ experts.” “Well, the police also must earn their bread. Who is he?” “He was the great authority on the Middle East. Old Indian civilian long retired. Lately political adviser to the Government of Media. You know all that.” “Yes. Who wanted him dead?” said Reggie. “Oh, my dear fellow!” Lomas spread out his hands. “The world is wide.” “Yes. The world also is very evil. The time also is waxing late. Same like the hymn says. What about those papers son and co. were so keen on?” Lomas laughed. “If you could believe I have a little intelligence, it would so soothe me. Our people have been warned to take charge of his flat.” “Active fellow. Let’s go and see what they found.”