Finally Penelope seemed to understand the drift of the questioning. Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed a circle. Her chubby hands clasped the hospital shirt. “You mean someone might have sprinkled arsenic on them while they were in my room? But who? And why?”

Livingston stood up. He patted her shoulder. “That’s what I intend to find out.”

As he left the hospital grounds Livingston made a quick decision. A right turn would have started him toward Llewellyn Hall. A left turn led to the main street of Oxford and the Kings Arms Pub. He chose the latter, deciding that a quick sandwich and a cup of tea would be very welcome before he met Philip Whitcomb, his fiancee, Val Twyler, and the maid for further questioning. Philip had assured him that they would be at the Hall all day.

It was still early for lunch and the pub was nearly empty. Livingston ordered a cheese-and-tomato sandwich and a pot of tea. The waiter had just served him when the front door opened and he heard his name being called. Claire James hurried to his table.

“Hi there, Inspectah. What a surprise to see you here. Oh, you’re havin’ just what I was fixin’ to order. May I join you?” She did not quite wait for his nod of assent as she slipped into the seat opposite him.

Livingston had been hoping for a quiet lunch with a chance to think, but on the other hand, he decided, this young woman had been here at college with Athena Popo-lous, and a chance to talk with her one-on-one just might prove to be fruitful. He certainly could use even a glimmer of new information, and besides, he admitted to himself, Claire James was very attractive in her spandex bicycling outfit.

As she signaled for the waiter, Claire explained that she was staying in Oxford for an extra couple of days after the reunion. “It gets kind of borin’ after everybody else is gone, but my fiance is meetin’ me here tomorrow and then we’re headin’ up to Scotland. I just love to travel.”

The waiter arrived. “I’ll have just what this handsome man here is havin’,” she said, smiling coyly at Livingston. That settled, Claire leaned forward, her attitude became conspiratorial, her voice dropped to a near whisper. “Have you discovered yet who strangled poor old Athena?”

Livingston tried not to sound annoyed. ’ The investigation is continuing.”

“Well, I just bet the trail is mighty cold after ten years. Who knows, her killer could be dead by now.” Claire widened her eyes, seeming to enjoy the possibility.

Livingston took a savage bite of the sandwich he had wanted to savor.

“And I heard about poor Penelope. When I saw her stuff all those crackers in a napkin, I just knew she was going to get sick.”

Livingston’s eyes narrowed. “You saw her?”