“To get his hands on her fortune and to be free of her.” I glanced up at him. “This is strictly between the two of us, but Fanny Poindexter hired me last Monday because she suspected that her husband was keeping a mistress. If that did prove to be true, then she planned to divorce him, and her money would go with her.”
“I see,” he said. “A strong motive then. And does he have a mistress?”
“He does. A dancer called Mademoiselle Fifi. I saw him going into her house and she was described to me by one of the waiters at Delmonico’s.”
“You’re getting quite good at this detective business, aren’t you?” he said with a smile.
“I don’t know about that, Daniel,” I said. “I left a note for Fanny the other day because she was sick and they wouldn’t let me see her. I was careful not to say anything specific in it but I’m now worrying that her husband deduced something from the note that made him realize she was on to him. I’m really concerned that I precipitated her death.”
“Presumably a doctor signed a death certificate?” he asked.
“He did, I’m sure. But he wouldn’t have thought to check for arsenic or any other kind of poison, would he?”
Daniel sighed. “Molly, I’m snowed under with work. I’ve got Chinese tongs trying to kill each other to gain control of the opium trade. I’ve got opium smuggling that we can’t stop and I’ve got random arsenic poisonings all over lower Manhattan.”
“So what would the symptoms of arsenic poisoning be?” I asked.
“Severe gastric distress. You had it yourself, remember?”
“I remember very well,” I said, my thoughts going back to that mansion on the Hudson and the vomiting that had brought me close to death, “but would there be any hints left on the body?”
“An autopsy would reveal traces of arsenic in the system,” he said. “The stomach would appear inflamed. And if the victim had been fed small doses so that death didn’t occur immediately, then it would affect the liver and the victim would appear jaundiced.”
“Meaning that her skin would look yellow?”
“And her eyes. Bloodshot and yellow probably. It can also produce a blotchy rash.”
I shook my head. “She looked perfect. Like a white marble statue.”
“I really don’t think you have enough to go on to warrant investigating further here, Molly,” he said. “It all boils down to one woman’s intuition and I have to tell you that female intuition is not as reliable as word would have it.” He smiled and patted my hand in a rather annoying way.
“So you’re not going to do anything?” I asked.
He sighed. “I could go and see her doctor if it would make you happy. I expect I can find the time to do that for you. If he shows any concerns at all about the cause of her death, then I’ll move to the next step.”
“Which would be?”
“Ordering a test for poisons. But from the way you described the body, I think we can rule out the other common poisons—strychnine, cyanide, as they usually leave signs of extreme distress on the face. And the skin could looked flushed as well or the lips have turned blue.”
“She looked serene,” I said.
“As I said, I suspect this is all the result of an overactive imagination on the part of your friend.” He got up again. “I really should be going. Give me the name and address of the deceased woman and I’ll do what I can.”
“Thank you.” I went across the kitchen and lifted the lid from the pot on the stove. “This is just about ready,” I said. “Can you not stay long enough to have a bite to eat?”
“I suppose I could do that,” he said. He glanced back longingly at the stove, then sat down again. “By the way. What was that strange note I received from you asking if I had been inside your house while you were out?”
“I came home to find the pile of papers on my table had been disturbed,” I said. “Some of them were on the floor.”
“And you thought that I might have sneaked into your house and gone through your papers?” His voice rose angrily. “To what purpose? To spy on you?”
“Keep your hair on, Daniel,” I said. “Of course I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I know you have a key and I couldn’t otherwise explain the papers on the floor.”
“I can think of several reasonable explanations myself,” he said. “Your skirt brushed them as you passed. A wind came from the front door as you opened it? The pile was too high and collapsed.”
“I know,” I said. “I suppose you’re right and I got upset over nothing. I just had this horrible feeling that someone had been in my house.”
“And why would they be doing that?”
“I don’t know,” I said.
He gave me a long, hard look. “Molly, is there something you’ve not been telling me? You’re not working on any dangerous cases at the moment, are you?”
“Not at all,” I said. “Finding out about some missionaries is hardly dangerous.”
“And were there any signs of breaking and entering?”
“Not at all.”