Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

1 Kerry Greenwood
‘Shimeon comes into the shop,’ said Phryne. ‘He is supposed
to plant the formula first and then to collect his reward, perhaps
a note which says that an arms dealer has been arranged for this
war in Palestine, God help them. But he didn’t do that. Perhaps
he was cleverer than the others, or more suspicious. Perhaps that
goes with being born in Salonika, where they know more about
conspiracy than gentle innocent Australia. You can see how it
happened, Jack. Exactly as Miss Lee says it happened. He opened
the book, groped for the hiding place as Simon is doing, then his
right index finger met the razor blade. A thin cut, like a paper
cut. It was a trivial injury, so he didn’t scream and draw attention
to himself. But it was a fatal injury, because the blade was
loaded with strychnine crystals. You can still see them. Someone
has used paste to make the blade sticky. Then he turned to Miss
Lee, falling, and held out his hand to her, to draw attention to
the wound. He tried to speak to her, but he failed.’
Simon stared at the exhibit, still holding the book. He was as
white as a sheet. The attendant constable noticed that he looked
very sickly and moved towards him.
‘They found no strychnine in the stomach,’ said Robinson.
‘There’s a report from the toxicologist, too. It was pure strychnine,
chemically pure. Not the mixture they use to poison rats.
This is an awful thing,’ he said slowly. ‘A trap for the most
unsuspecting. Just when he thought that he was going to get
what he wanted.’
‘A cruel thing,’ said Phryne. ‘The product of a cunning mind.’
‘But whose mind?’ demanded the policeman.
‘Ah, that,’ said Phryne, ‘we have yet to ascertain. But I tell
you one thing, Jack dear, it wasn’t Miss Lee.’
‘She could have been an accomplice,’ said Robinson, without
conviction.
‘Have a heart,’ begged Phryne.
‘You’re right. We’ll release her this afternoon. All charges
dropped and her release proceeding from sure and certain knowledge
of her complete innocence,’ said Robinson, heavily.
‘There’s a good policeman.’ Phryne patted his arm.