going at once, he explained. Ten days should be sufficient for him to get his following in the House together. They would then launch a huge Press attack on the Government for having concealed the approaching danger.
Having got so far, Fink-Drummond passed a hand over his forehead as though to collect his thoughts. He then went on to speak of various measures that would get the public behind him and of special lines which his principal supporters would be instructed to follow. By that time he had gone deadly white and Sam noticed that he was slurring his words a little.
For another moment Fink-Drummond continued to speak but his words came with difficulty and it was clear that something was wrong with him. He broke off abruptly, exclaimed ‘Sorry, I—I’m feeling ill,’ and began to mop his face with his handkerchief.
Suddenly his eyes bulged, he sagged a little, rocked from side to side, choked and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Believing that he was suffering from a fit, Sam ran to him and, kneeling down, undid his collar. Hemmingway Hughes moved forward, too, but towards the desk against which Fink-Drummond had been leaning. He picked up the ex-Cabinet Minister’s half-empty glass and sniffed it.
Gervaise Stapleton’s voice rang out like the crack of a whip. ‘Put that glass down!’
Hemmingway turned to stare at him, and exclaimed: ‘Good God! I thought as much.’
Fink-Drummond was now lying stiff and still upon the carpet. With a look of horror on his face, Sam glanced first at Hemmingway and then at his father-in-law. ‘Heavens, man!’ he cried. ‘You’ll swing for this. You’ve poisoned him!’
6
A PLOT TO SAVE THE NATION
‘Yes,’ Gervaise admitted quietly, ‘I poisoned him.’ There was a look of calm satisfaction on his aristocratic features and with one hand he smoothed back his fine crop of white, slightly wavy hair.
Sam jumped up from beside Fink-Drummond’s still body. ‘But hang it, man! You don’t seem to realise what you’ve done. We can’t conceal this thing—we’ll have to call in the police.’
Hemmingway Hughes stepped towards the door. ‘We must get a doctor—a stomach pump. There may be a chance of saving him yet.’
‘That’s it,’ cried Sam, ‘hurry! In the meantime, we’ll try and think up some story to get my father-in-law out of this. If we keep our heads, we may be able to persuade them it was suicide.’
Gervaise barred Hemmingway’s passage to the door. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘It’s good of you to be so concerned for me, but we don’t require either a doctor or the police.’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ Sam snapped. ‘Of course I appreciate your motives. You were kidding us just now when you appeared to be persuading me to listen to his rotten scheme; just giving the poison time to work. You made up your mind from the beginning that the only way to stop the swine sabotaging the whole country was to kill him, didn’t you? But that’s no reason why you should sacrifice your own neck, if we can save it.’
‘You’re right about my motive, Sam,’ Gervaise smiled, ‘but I’ve no intention whatever of sacrificing myself.’
‘If we can’t get a doctor to pull him round, or fix a suicide story, you’ll have to stand your trial for murder.’
‘Not at all. It’s true that I poisoned him but he’s not going to die.’
Sam frowned. ‘Then, why the devil didn’t you say so?’
‘You didn’t give me much chance.’ Extending his left hand, Gervaise pointed to the little finger upon which there was a large,old-fashioned ring. ‘You see that? I bought it in Florence many years ago. There was still one man living then, a descendant of the old alchemists, who possessed the secret of some of the Medici poisons. The ring is hollow and he sold it to me with four little pills in it. The pills consist of a poison that is tasteless and odourless when served in wine. Two pills will cause death, while one will bring about a state of catalepsy
Having got so far, Fink-Drummond passed a hand over his forehead as though to collect his thoughts. He then went on to speak of various measures that would get the public behind him and of special lines which his principal supporters would be instructed to follow. By that time he had gone deadly white and Sam noticed that he was slurring his words a little.
For another moment Fink-Drummond continued to speak but his words came with difficulty and it was clear that something was wrong with him. He broke off abruptly, exclaimed ‘Sorry, I—I’m feeling ill,’ and began to mop his face with his handkerchief.
Suddenly his eyes bulged, he sagged a little, rocked from side to side, choked and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Believing that he was suffering from a fit, Sam ran to him and, kneeling down, undid his collar. Hemmingway Hughes moved forward, too, but towards the desk against which Fink-Drummond had been leaning. He picked up the ex-Cabinet Minister’s half-empty glass and sniffed it.
Gervaise Stapleton’s voice rang out like the crack of a whip. ‘Put that glass down!’
Hemmingway turned to stare at him, and exclaimed: ‘Good God! I thought as much.’
Fink-Drummond was now lying stiff and still upon the carpet. With a look of horror on his face, Sam glanced first at Hemmingway and then at his father-in-law. ‘Heavens, man!’ he cried. ‘You’ll swing for this. You’ve poisoned him!’
6
A PLOT TO SAVE THE NATION
‘Yes,’ Gervaise admitted quietly, ‘I poisoned him.’ There was a look of calm satisfaction on his aristocratic features and with one hand he smoothed back his fine crop of white, slightly wavy hair.
Sam jumped up from beside Fink-Drummond’s still body. ‘But hang it, man! You don’t seem to realise what you’ve done. We can’t conceal this thing—we’ll have to call in the police.’
Hemmingway Hughes stepped towards the door. ‘We must get a doctor—a stomach pump. There may be a chance of saving him yet.’
‘That’s it,’ cried Sam, ‘hurry! In the meantime, we’ll try and think up some story to get my father-in-law out of this. If we keep our heads, we may be able to persuade them it was suicide.’
Gervaise barred Hemmingway’s passage to the door. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘It’s good of you to be so concerned for me, but we don’t require either a doctor or the police.’
‘Don’t be a fool,’ Sam snapped. ‘Of course I appreciate your motives. You were kidding us just now when you appeared to be persuading me to listen to his rotten scheme; just giving the poison time to work. You made up your mind from the beginning that the only way to stop the swine sabotaging the whole country was to kill him, didn’t you? But that’s no reason why you should sacrifice your own neck, if we can save it.’
‘You’re right about my motive, Sam,’ Gervaise smiled, ‘but I’ve no intention whatever of sacrificing myself.’
‘If we can’t get a doctor to pull him round, or fix a suicide story, you’ll have to stand your trial for murder.’
‘Not at all. It’s true that I poisoned him but he’s not going to die.’
Sam frowned. ‘Then, why the devil didn’t you say so?’
‘You didn’t give me much chance.’ Extending his left hand, Gervaise pointed to the little finger upon which there was a large,old-fashioned ring. ‘You see that? I bought it in Florence many years ago. There was still one man living then, a descendant of the old alchemists, who possessed the secret of some of the Medici poisons. The ring is hollow and he sold it to me with four little pills in it. The pills consist of a poison that is tasteless and odourless when served in wine. Two pills will cause death, while one will bring about a state of catalepsy
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