"Dr. MacArthur, Dr. Heddis and Dr. Maids are at the convention in Cincinnati, so I did the tests upon the organs you sent over...."
His voice was matter-of-fact. Its uninterested monotony awakened Bear Sterling.
He rivetted his eyes into the fellow and growled:
"A gentleman," Dr. MacArthur said, "who is reporting upon some organs I sent over to the chemical laboratory, Dr. Sterling. Dr. Heddis' second assistant."
The chemist wiped his perspiring lip and continued in the voice of a bell-hop.
"None of the organs show traces of any foreign substance except the ingredients of a sleeping potion, which I believe was administered in powdered form, capsule probably. I have not proceeded with any obscure tests. Dr. Heddis will be back this afternoon. I regret I can make no further report until after a consultation with Dr. Heddis."
Bear Sterling's regular breathing was the only noise.
"Dr. Heddis is flying back. He should be here within two hours. Sorry to have called you at such an hour. Please keep on searching and consult Dr. Heddis immediately he returns. In the meantime, will you be so kind as to have a typed report of your findings in my hands by nine this morning? So kind of you!" Dr. MacArthur stated.
He ushered the chemist through the door and shut it after him. He turned to face the three men. He stood so erect that his wife would have known he had lost a battle and a tremendous one.
"Bear Sterling, did that body show a hypodermic puncture?"
"Then that syringe contained something ... I can't seem to make my brain ... understand."
At nine-fifteen, Dr. Henry MacArthur sat in his own office chair and peered intently at the innocuous findings of the second assistant chemist and the addenda which Dr. Heddis had written an hour before.
His long brow was pleated with straight thin wrinkles.
He was reading Dr. Heddis' supplement with fascinated horror. It indicated, what he had feared, that the patient in Bed 11, Ward B, Medicine Clinic had not died of a sleeping potion. That somewhere in the Elijah Wilson....
His door into the corridor of the Administration Building was open. Except during meetings it was always open.
His secretary appeared in it and said, "Here is your mail, Dr. MacArthur."