Resented it enough to do murder? Surely not-and in any case, the fact that Celia had got engaged to Colin Mcationabb would surely wash that out as a possible motive for murder. He dismissed Patricia Lane and asked for Jean Tomlinson.

Miss ToMLIN-SON WAS a severe-looking young woman of twenty-seven with fair hair, regular features and a rather pursed-up mouth.

She sat down and said primly, "Yes, Inspector? What can I do for you?" "I wonder if you can help us at all, Miss Tomlinson, about this very tragic matter." "It's shocking. Really quite shocking," said Jean.

"It was bad enough when we thought Celia had committed suicide, but now that it's supposed to be murder .

. ." She stopped and shook her head, sadly.

"We are fairly sure that she did not poison herself," said Sharpe. "You know where the poison came from?" Jean nodded.

"I gather it came from St. Catherine's Hospital, where she works. But surely that makes it seem more like suicide?" "It was intended to, no doubt," said the Inspector.

"But who else could possibly have got that poison except Celia?" "Quite a lot of people," said Inspector Sharpe, "if they were determined to do so. Even you, yourself, Miss Tomlinson," he said, "might have managed to help yourself to it if you had wished to do so." "Really, Inspector Sharpe!" Jean's tones were sharp with indi nation.

"Well, you visited the Dispensary fairly often, didn't you, Miss Tomlinson?" "I went in there to see Mildred Carey, yes.

But naturally I would never have dreamed of tampering with the poison cupboard." "But you could have done so?" "I certainly couldn't have done anything of the kind!" "Oh, come now, Miss Tomlinson. Say that your friend was busy packing up the ward baske greater-than ts and the other girl was at the Outpatients window. There are frequent times when there are only two dispensers in the front room. You could have wandered casually round the back of the shelves of bottles that run across the middle of the floor. You could have nipped a hottle out of the cupboard and into your pocket, and neither of the two dispensers would have dreamed of what you had done." "I resent what you say very much, Inspector Sharpe. It's-it's a-disgraceful accusation." "But it's not an accusation, Miss Tomlinson.

It's nothing of the kind. You mustn't misunderstand me.

You said to me that it wasn't possible for you to do such a thing, and I'm trying to show you that it was possible. I'm not suggesting for a moment that you did do so. After all," he added, "why should you?" "Quite so. You don't seem to rearise, Inspector Sharpe, that I was a friend of Celia's." "Quite a lot of people get poisoned by their friends.

There's a certain question we have to ask ourselves sometimes.

'When is a friend not a friend?" "There was no disagreement between me and Celia, nothing of the kind. I liked her very much." "Had you any reason to suspect it was she who had been responsible for these thefts in the house?" "No, indeed. I was never so surprised in my life. I always thought Celia had high principles. I wouldn't have dreamed of her doing such a thin,." "Of course," said Sharpe, watching her carefully, "kleptomaniacs can't really help themselves, can they?" Jean Tomlinson's lips pursed themselves together even more closely. Then she opened them and spoke.