Sheriff Landes and Norton Berkeley, the prosecuting attorney, sat in conference.
There was a gleam of triumph in the eyes of Sheriff Landes, and the district attorney, making notes, would from time to time nod his head approvingly.
Landes said, “We have it all sewed up and wrapped in cellophane. We’ve made a deal with the State Police. They’re going to release Marvus Gentry and he’s going to give us everything we need to tie Robert Trenton right up with the dope shipments.”
Berkeley nodded.
“And,” the sheriff went on, “that’s just peanuts. We now have a bombshell you can spring in court, a perfect motive for the murder.”
“What is it?” Berkeley asked.
“When we searched the room of Harvey Richmond, we found he’d been cabling the authorities in Switzerland. There’s a little inn run by a man named René Charteux. Madame Charteux died very suddenly, apparently of poisoning from eating a toadstool which had been included in mushrooms she’d used as a sauce for meat.
“Apparently Richmond was suspicious, for some reason or other. He first sent a ship’s wireless to the Swiss authorities. The Swiss authorities started work. What do you think they found?”
“What did they find?”
“Madame Charteux died because she ate enough arsenic to kill a horse.”
“Can we check that up with Robert Trenton?”
“Robert Trenton stayed at the inn.”
“What dates?”
“Well,” Sheriff Landes admitted, “there’s a little discrepancy there. He apparently was at the inn a couple of days or so after the funeral. But he was pretty thick with the husband. And Harvey Richmond got the tip to work on the murder angle because of stuff he learned on the ship when he was investigating Trenton. The copies of the wireless messages show all that.
“Now what I figure is that you can throw all this into your opening statement, or you may want to hold it in reserve.”
The prosecutor said, “It’s hard to get the evidence from Switzerland in a form we can use.”
“Does that mean our hands are tied?”
“Not at all. There are lots of ways of skinning a cat. I might wait until Trenton gets on the stand and then start throwing questions at him on cross-examination, asking if it isn’t a fact that he stayed at this inn, and if it isn’t a fact that this Madame Charteux died very suddenly, and if he didn’t know that Harvey Richmond was investigating the facts concerning her death at the time Richmond met his death.”
The sheriff nodded. “That should do it.”
Berkeley said, “Incidentally, there’s no reason why you have to keep quiet about this, you know.”
“You mean the newspapers?”
“I don’t mean anything,” Norton Berkeley said sharply, “but I see nothing about it that’s confidential. You say you found the evidence there in Harvey Richmond’s things?”
“That’s right. There were copies of the wireless messages he sent, and there was a cable that was received from the authorities in Switzerland the day he died. The Swiss authorities are launching an investigation.”
“Well,” Berkeley said, fixing his eyes significantly on the sheriff, “I don’t see anything about it that necessarily needs to remain confidential so far as we are concerned.”
“Well, that’s fine,” the sheriff said, “The metropolitan papers have asked me for a statement, and …”
“Better let me handle that end,” Berkeley interposed quickly. “There are some fine legal points to be considered.”
“Okay. Just as you say. Now here’s something else that ties right in on that poisoning plot. When the Customs men searched Trenton they found two capsules filled with white powder in his bathrobe pocket.”
“The deuce they did! Where are they?”
“Harvey Richmond asked for them. The Customs men gave them to him and they’ve disappeared. We can’t find ’em.”
Berkeley’s manner showed excitement. “That’s why Trenton killed him. He had this evidence that would tie Trenton in on this Swiss killing, so Trenton killed him and got the capsules. Get one of the Customs men to say he’s seen powdered arsenic and these capsules contained a powder that was the colour of arsenic.”
“The colour of arsenic?” the sheriff asked. “Those Customs men never even opened the capsules. They didn’t taste, smell, or…”
“The colour of arsenic,” Berkeley repeated.
“There are too many things that colour. Flour, soda, baking powder …”
“Never you mind that,” Berkeley said. “You get those Customs men on the line. Get ’em to say the capsules contained a powder that was just like arsenic in appearance.”
“Okay,” Sheriff Landes said. “Now I’ve made arrangements to get Gentry all cleaned up on that dope possession charge. He’s going to co-operate with us.”
“Does he understand that?”
“Sure he does. I thought it might be a good idea for us to talk with him together.”
Berkeley toyed with his pencil. “It’s better to have all the preliminary matters cleared up before such a witness actually talks with the district attorney.”
“I know, I know,” Landes said. “I know how you feel about that, but this is one time where we just can’t afford to have any misunderstanding. I thought it would be a good idea if they checked with me on this thing. In that way we could both … well, we’d sort of be together on it.”
“Where is he now?”
“Waiting outside in the other room, in the custody of one of the deputies.”
“All right,” Berkeley said. “Let’s get him in.”