The wing of the chair appeared to move. Kent rubbed his eyes and
looking again, caught the same slight movement.
Bounding toward the chair Kent saw that the brown shape which he
had mistaken for part of the tufted upholstery was the sleek brown
hair of a man's well-shaped head. He halted abruptly on meeting the
gaze of a pair of mocking eyes.
"Rochester?" he gasped unbelievingly. "Rochester!"
His partner laughed softly as Stone approached. "I have been an
interested listener," he said. "Let me complete the good doctor's
argument. Nitro-glycerine would have benefitted Jimmie Turnbull and
his feeble heart; whereas the missing aconitine pills killed him."
Stone regarded him with severity. "How did you get in this
apartment?" he demanded, declining the challenge Rochester had
offered in addressing his opinion of Turnbull's death directly to
him.
Rochester dangled his bunch of keys in the physician's face and
smiled at his excited partner. "If you two hadn't been so absorbed
in your conversation you would have heard me walk in," he remarked.
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