Dr. Sheppard at the Breakfast Table

           Mrs.Ferrarsdiedonthenightofthe16th17thSeptember–aThursday.Iwassentforateighto’clockonthemorningofFridaythe17th.Therewasnothingtobedone.Shehadbeendeadsomehours.

           ItwasjustafewminutesafterninewhenIreachedhomeoncemore.Iopenedthefrontdoorwithmylatchkey,andpurposelydelayedafewmomentsinthehall,hangingupmyhatandthelightovercoatthatIhaddeemedawiseprecautionagainstthechillofanearlyautumnmorning.Totellthetruth,Iwasconsiderablyupsetandworried.IamnotgoingtopretendthatatthatmomentIforesawtheeventsofthenextfewweeks.Iemphaticallydidnotdoso.

           Butmyinstincttoldmethattherewerestirringtimesahead.

           Fromthedining-roomonmylefttherecametherattleoftea-cupsandtheshort,drycoughofmysisterCaroline.

           "Isthatyou,James?"shecalled.

           Anunnecessaryquestion,sincewhoelsecoulditbe?Totellthetruth,itwaspreciselymysisterCarolinewhowasthecauseofmyfewminutes"delay.Themottoofthemongoosefamily,soMr.Kiplingtellsus,is:"Goandfindout."IfCarolineeveradoptsacrest,Ishouldcertainlysuggestamongooserampant.Onemightomitthefirstpartofthemotto.Carolinecandoanyamountoffindingoutbysittingplacidlyathome.Idon’tknowhowshemanagesit,butthereitis.IsuspectthattheservantsandthetradesmenconstituteherIntelligenceCorps.Whenshegoesout,itisnottogatherininformation,buttospreadit.