Free The Simple Way of Poison by Leslie Ford Page A

know. You think I ought to get a lawyer.”
    The smile spread to her red lips. “—A first-rate criminal lawyer,” she added coolly.
    Steve’s face darkened.
    “I’m only—”
    She interrupted him. “I know, Steve—thanks! You’re probably right. I can see, thanks to—”
    She paused. She was going to say “Lowell,” I thought, but she changed it.
    “Thanks to Captain Lamb—that I’m going to need one. And now, if you don’t mind… and if it’s all right with the police… I’d like to be alone.—Except you, Grace,—do you mind staying?”
    Steve flushed again, started to speak, turned brusquely and went out. Mac came over and held out his hand.
    “Gee, Iris,” he said lamely. “—If there’s anything I can do…”
    She smiled.
    “Thanks, Mac. You sort of stand by—Lowell will want you, a little later.”
    He looked grateful, and moistened his lips. But after all there wasn’t very much that anybody a great deal more articulate than Mac could have said. I followed him over to the door and held it while he went out. One of Lamb’s men was coming down the stairs. He had a small brown bottle in his hand. I don’t think he liked my looks, for some reason, for he put the bottle behind him quickly, narrowing his eyes the way Sergeant Buck does when he looks at me, and kept his gaze fixed on me until I’d closed the drawing room door. I had a numb cold feeling in the pit of my stomach as I turned back to Iris.
    “What’s the matter?” she asked.
    “Nothing,” I said.
    “Turn off the lights on that tree, will you?” she said suddenly. Her voice sounded like tearing silk. “They’ll drive me out of my mind.”
    I hadn’t noticed they were on. I unscrewed two or three so they all went out.
    “You’d better hang on to it,” I said. “You’re going to need it.”
    “I know I am.” She laughed with sudden bitterness. “Where do you get first-rate criminal lawyers?” she asked, in a caught strangled voice.
    “I wouldn’t know. Why didn’t you ask Steve?”
    She shook her head. “No, darling.”
    Her green eyes met mine squarely. “He thinks I poisoned Randall.—Do you, Grace?”
    “I’d rather wait and see if he was poisoned, first,” I said, in as matter-of-fact a voice as I could manage. “And I’ll tell you.”
    She nodded calmly. Then we were quiet. Out in the hall we could hear the slow labored tread of men carrying a heavy load. I glanced quickly at her. She was standing there in front of the fire, her eyes widened, lips parted. She bent her head and held it there until the door closed and we heard a motor start, whirring in the silent night. I saw the tears on her face as she turned and buried her head in her arms on the carved mantel, her bare pale gold shoulders quivering. I put my handkerchief in her hand, remembering that she had wiped up the spot on the mahogany surface of the desk with hers.
    The front door opened and closed again, and the door behind us opened. Colonel Primrose came in. He stood there a moment, his hand on the silver knob, looking at Iris. At the first sound of the opening door she had raised her head and dried her eyes. When she turned she was in complete control of herself again. I saw the guarded admiration in Colonel Primrose’s eyes as he hesitated, changing his tack, plainly, now that he saw her away from Lowell and the rest of them.
    “Sit down, Iris,” he said quietly. “You too, Mrs. Latham. I want to talk to you both.”
    I sat down. Iris did not move. Colonel Primrose glanced up at her, cocking his head down and around with a quizzical flicker in his eyes.
    “I’m not entirely unofficial, Iris,” he said steadily.
    She nodded.
    “I know you’re not—and that’s precisely the point, Colonel Primrose. I’ve been advised this evening to get a first-rate criminal lawyer. I think—if you don’t mind—that’s what I’ll do. And… before I talk to anyone—even remotely official.”
    Colonel Primrose sat down. He looked up at