silent for a moment or two. At last he remarked thoughtfully:
"It is a pity that there was no autopsy. I suppose it is too late now, Doctor McCutchen?"
"No. The autopsy must take place now, although I doubt that it will disclose anything of value toward revealing the truth. There are some poisons, you know, which can be introduced in just such a manner as by the prick of a needle that leave absolutely no trace in the system, and their effect is quick and sure; but they are rare and beyond the reach of a layman." He paused beside the desk. "I presume it would be unprofessional for me to ask if the family have any reason to suspect that Mrs. Lorne's death was not the result of sheer accident other than the fact that the needle was substituted?"
"I will tell you this, Doctor, under the seal of professional secrecy. You have heard of the tragic accident which befell Mrs. Lorne's eldest son only last week when while shaving he severed the jugular vein and died before help could reach him? I have good reason, amounting almost to proof, that his was not the hand which held the razor," Odell replied very gravely. "In addition to that, two attempts have been made since upon the lives of two other members of the family; and there is not the slightest clue to the identity of the murderer. These later attempts had they been successful would both have passed as accidents also, but for the fact that the guilty person had grown bolder and left unmistakable traces of his handiwork behind."
"Great heavens, this is frightful!" The specialist sank into his chair. "I read of young Mr. Chalmers's death, of course, but looked upon it unquestioningly as an accident.
