The Problem of the Green Capsule by John Dickson Carr Page B

counts as a guest, and neither does George.”
    “Thank you, Miss Wills. Unless Major Crow or the Superintendent have some questions——?”
    Both the others shook their heads, though Bostwick looked highly sinister. Marjorie remained looking speculatively at Elliot for a moment; then she went out and closed the door with great softness, but he thought he saw her shudder. There was a silence in the bright room.
    “H’m,” said Major Crow.
    “You know,” he added, and a sharp little eye fixed on Elliot, “I don’t like that girl’s testimony.”
    “No more do I,” said Bostwick, and unfolded his arms with deliberation.
    “On the surface it’s a clear case,” growled Major Crow, speaking down his nose. “Somebody overheard and saw Chesney and Wilbur Emmet making their preparations, and knew what the show was to be. He knocked out Emmet, played his part, and substituted a poisoned capsule for the harmless one. The gelatine would take a minute or two to dissolve. So Chesney wouldn’t notice anything wrong when he took the capsule. That is, he wouldn’t shout out immediately that he’d been poisoned, or try to stop the murderer. The murderer could fade away, leaving the disguise outside. When the gelatine melted, the poison would kill in a couple of minutes. All very clear. Yes. Apparently. But —— ”
    “Ah!” grunted Bostwick, as the Chief Constable pounced on the word. “Why hit Mr. Emmet out? Eh, sir?”
    Elliot was suddenly conscious of a far greater shrewdness than he had expected emanating from the bulk in the corner. Bostwick was his superior officer, of course, but still he had not expected it. The Superintendent had been rocking back and forth, bumping his posterior at measured intervals against the wall; and now he looked at Elliot with such a broad and fishy expression that it was as though a searchlight had been turned on.
    “That’s exactly it, Inspector,” agreed Major Crow. “As Bostwick says, why hit Mr. Emmet out? Why not let Emmet give Chesney the poisoned capsule in the ordinary course of the show? If the murderer knows what they’re going to do, all he needs to do is change over the capsules. Why run the risk of knocking out Emmet, dressing up in the clothes and possibly being spotted straightaway, and walking in here exposed to everybody’s eyes?—why let himself in for all those terrific risks when all he had to do was substitute one capsule for another, and let somebody else do the dirty work?”
    “I think,” Elliot said thoughtfully, “that that’s the whole point of the crime.”
    “The whole point of the crime?”
    “Yes, sir. In the performance as it was rehearsed, Mr. Chesney never intended to swallow any capsule at all.”
    “H’m,” said Major Crow, after a pause.
    “He was only going to pretend to swallow it. You see. This whole performance was to be a series of traps for the observation. You’ve probably had similar tricks played on you in a course in psychology at college——”
    “Not me,” said Major Crow.
    “Not me,” grunted Superintendent Bostwick.
    All Elliot’s stubborness rose up fiercely in him; not only at this, but at the slight air of hostility which had come into the room. He wondered if he sounded as though he was swanking. Then he decided, with the tips of his ears tingling, that he did not givea curse.
    “The instructor,” he went on, “takes a bottle of some liquid, puts his tongue to it, makes a wry face, and comments on the bitter taste of the stuff. Then he passes the bottle to you. All it contains is coloured water. But, if you’re not careful, you’ll swear the stuff is bitter just from having it impressed on you. Or else it really is bitter, and he only pretends to taste it—telling you to do as he did. Unless you note carefully what he did, you’ll take a swig of it.
    “That’s what happened here, very probably. Mr. Chesney warned them to look out for traps. You remember, Miss Wills said he looked surprised and