After Anita put on pajamas she took the remaining six tablets, washed off the label with hot water, and tossed the empty bottle out of the back window of the apartment. Then she snuggled down into her own twin bed and switched off the lights.

The maid was due to come at eight the next morning to clean up the apartment. She would find two still figures, one dead, one drugged.

Two of the tablets constituted the heaviest prescribed dose. The six tablets Anita had taken began to worry her. Perhaps she had really taken too many. She wondered if she could call a drug store and find out if—A moment later she was asleep. . . .

Louise Marlow, tired from the long airplane ride, paid off the taxicab in front of the apartment house.

The cab driver helped her with her bags to the entrance door. Louise Marlow inserted the key which Fay Allison had sent her, smiled her thanks to the driver, and picked up her bags.

Sixty-five years old, white-headed, steely-eyed, square of shoulder and broad of beam, she had a salty philosophy of her own. Her love was big enough to encompass those who were dear to her with a protecting umbrella. Her hatred was bitter enough to goad her enemies into confused retreat.

With casual disregard for the fact that it was now one o’clock in the morning, she marched down the corridor to the elevator, banged her bags into the cage, and punched the button for the sixth floor.

The elevator moved slowly upward, then shuddered to a stop. The door slid slowly open and Aunt Louise, picking up her bags, walked down the half-darkened corridor.

At length she found the apartment she wanted, inserted her key, opened the door, and groped for a light switch. She clicked it on, and called, “It’s me, Fay!”

There was no answer.

Aunt Louise dragged her bags in, pushed the door shut, called out cheerfully, “Don’t shoot,” and then added by way of explanation, “I picked up a cancellation on an earlier plane, Fay.”

The continued silence bothered her. She moved over to the bedroom.

“Wake up, Fay. It’s your Aunt Louise!”

She turned on the bedroom light, smiled down at the two sleepers, said, “Well, if you’re going to sleep right through everything, I’ll make up a bed on the davenport and say hello to you in the morning.”

Then something in the color of Fay Allison’s face caused the keen eyes to become hard with concentration.

Aunt Louise went over and shook Fay Allison, then turned to Anita Bonsal and started shaking her.

The motion finally brought Anita back to semiconsciousness from drugged slumber. “Who is it?” she asked thickly.

“I’m Fay Allison’s Aunt Louise. I got here ahead of time. What’s happened?”