"God damn it, man!" Thorpe exploded. "Don’t tell me how to conduct the practice of medicine in my own hospital."

Phillips did not reply, nor did he seem particularly disturbed by Thorpe’s anger, which had the effect of both heightening it and confusing Thorpe into momentary silence. He had not expected an apothecary to be indifferent to him.

Phillips turned to Robb. "If there is anything else I can do for you, Sergeant, I’m sure Mr. Thorpe would want me to. Just tell me. And before you ask, I’ve got no suspicions of any o’ the nurses ... not in that way. Some o’ them drink a spot too much porter on an empty stomach. But then I daresay half o’ London does that from time to time. ’ Specially as porter is included in the wages, like. You’ll find me ’round an’ about most any day except Sunday." And without asking anything further he handed the keys to Thorpe and went out.

"Impertinent oaf," Thorpe swore under his breath.

"But honest?" Robb asked.

Hester saw the abhorrence in Thorpe’s face. He would dearly like to have paid Phillips back for his arrogance, and here was an ideal opportunity given him. On the other hand, to admit he had employed an apothecary of whom he had doubts would be a confession of his own gross incompetence.

But just in case temptation should prove too powerful, Hester answered for him.

"Of course, Sergeant," she said with a smile. "Do you imagine Mr. Thorpe would have permitted him to remain in such a responsible position if he were not trustworthy in every way? If a nurse is a little tipsy it is one thing. She may spill a pail of water or leave a floor unswept. If an apothecary is not above reproach people may die."

"Quite," Thorpe agreed hastily with a venomous look at Hester, then, with a considerable effort to alter his expression, he turned to Robb. "Please question anyone you wish to. I doubt you will find any proof that this wretched woman stole the quinine and morphine. If there were any, we should know of it ourselves. I presume you have her in custody?"

"Yes sir, we have. Thank you, sir." Robb bade them good-day and left.

Hester glanced at Callandra, then excused herself also. She had other matters to attend to, and urgently.

Hester had no difficulty in obtaining permission to visit Cleo Anderson in her cell. She simply told the jailer that she was an official from the hospital where Cleo worked and it was necessary to learn certain medical information from her in order for treatments to continue in her absence.

It transpired that the jailer knew Cleo—she had nursed his mother in her final illness-and he was only too pleased to repay the kindness in any way he could. Indeed, he seemed embarrassed by the situation, and Hester could not guess from his manner whether he thought Cleo could be guilty or not. However, word had spread that the charge was that she had killed a blackmailer, and he had a very low regard for such people, possibly sufficiently low that he was not overly concerned by the death of one of them.