William Monk 05 - The Sins of the Wolf

merely wish to know the exact dosage of the heart medicine you prescribed for her….”
    “For why? What affair is it o’ yours, Mr. Monk? Did ye no’ say ye were to do with the prosecution o’ that wretched nurse who killed her? I heard she gave her two doses, is that no’ true?” He looked at Monk through narrowed eyes.
    “Yes it is,” Monk said very carefully, keeping his voice level. “But it needs proving beyond doubt in the court of law. All the details must be checked. Now, Dr. Crawford, will you please tell me precisely what you prescribed, wasit exactly the same as usual, and who was the apothecary who made it up?”
    Crawford seized a pen and paper and wrote furiously for several moments, then passed the paper across to Monk.
    “There you are, young man. That is the precise prescription, which ye’ll not be able to fill, because I’ve no signed it. And that is the name and address of the apothecary who made it up usually. I daresay they always had the same one.
    “Is it unusual for a double dose of medicinal strength to be fatal?”
    “Aye, there’s very little in it. It must be measured exact.” He held up his finger and thumb to show a hair’s breadth between them. “That’s why it’s put in a suspension in glass vials. One vial per dose. Can’t make a mistake.”
    Monk considered trying to elicit a little information from him about the other members of the family, and judged it would be pointless.
    Crawford watched him with guarded eyes, full of both suspicion and amusement.
    “Thank you,” Monk said curtly, folding the slip of paper and putting it into his waistcoat pocket. “I’ll call upon Mr. Landis.”
    “Have not known him make a mistake,” Crawford said cheerfully. “And never known an apothecary who admitted to one either.” He laughed with genuine amusement.
    “Nor I,” Monk conceded. “But someone either put two doses into one, or substituted a lethal dose for a medicinal one. He may be able to tell me something of use.”
    “Why wouldn’t they simply have given her two of the usual doses?” Crawford said argumentatively.
    “They could have.” Monk smiled back. “Was she the sort of woman who would have taken two? I assume you did warn her that two would be lethal?”
    The amusement vanished from Crawford’s eyes.
    “O’ course I did!” he said. “Are you accusing me of incompetence?”
    Monk looked at him with undisguised satisfaction. “I’m trying to learn if it was likely Mrs. Farraline would have taken two doses, rather than one that had been tampered with.”
    “Aye, well now you know! Go and see Mr. Landis. He’ll no doubt tell you how it could be done. Good day to you, sir.”
    “Well, you could distill it.” Landis screwed up his face thoughtfully. “Reduce the liquid till it was the same amount as a single dose. But you’d have to have the right equipment for that, or something that would serve. Hardly use the kitchen while the cook was busy. Be noticed. Too chancy. Not the sort of thing to have to do on the spur of the moment.”
    “What else?” Monk asked. “How would you do it?”
    Landis looked at him sideways. “On the spur of the moment? That’s hard to say. Don’t think I would. I’d wait a bit until I had a better idea. Has to be instant though, doesn’t it!”
    “She was only there one day.”
    “Buy some digitalis and substitute a double-strength dose for the ordinary one. Are you sure she didn’t carry digitalis with her? Woman was a nurse, wasn’t she? Perhaps she had some already, against an emergency—no, that won’t do. Doctor, perhaps, not a nurse. Stole it?”
    “What for?”
    “Ah, there you have me; unless she was waiting for a chance like this? That’d make her a cold-blooded woman all right.” Landis pulled a face. “Mind, that’s possible. Had a nasty poisoning with digitalis a few months ago here in Edinburgh. Man poisoned his wife. Ugly case. Terrible woman, tongue like a viper, but doesn’t excuse poisoning her, of course. Would have got away with it too, if he’d just given her a little less. Not easy to trace, digitalis. Looks like ordinary heart failure, if you get the amount exactly right. The poor devil overdid it. Made them suspicious.”
    “I see. Thank you.”
    “Not been much use, have I? Sorry.”
    “I suppose you didn’t sell any digitalis that day to a woman who could answer her description?” Monk asked, feeling suddenly a little sick. Of course Hester had not bought