CHAPTER IX. A CRIME AGAINST THE WORLD
"What do you mean?" asked Dr. van Heerden.
"I merely repeat the words of the dead man," answered Beale, "heart failure!"
He picked up from the table the leather case which the doctor had taken from his pocket. There were four little phials and one of these was uncorked.
"Digitalis!" he read. "That shouldn't kill him, doctor."
He looked at van Heerden thoughtfully, then picked up the phial again. It bore the label of a well-known firm of wholesale chemists, and the seal had apparently been broken for the first time when van Heerden opened the tiny bottle.
"You have sent for the police?" Beale asked the agitated manager.
"Oui, m'sieur—directly. They come now, I think."
He walked to the vestibule to meet three men in plain clothes who had just c
