The Glass Slipper by Mignon G. Eberhart Read Free Book Online

personal and family affairs.”
    “What do you want to say?”
    “Now, now don’t get upset, Mrs Hatterick. I only want to know if — well, if you were very much surprised when the first Mrs Hatterick died?”
    Steady, thought Rue. Andy was as still as a graven image.
    “I hadn’t expected it. But unpredictable things like that do happen sometimes; a nurse and doctor can do their very best with a patient and still lose the patient.”
    “Did your husband — that is, Doctor Hatterick himself — attend his wife when she was ill?”
    “No. A doctor never attends members of his own family.”
    “But I expect the attending physician enjoys the complete confidence of the, say, physician in the family. In other words, did Doctor Crittenden ever consult Doctor Hatterick about Mrs Hatterick’s illness?”
    “I’ll answer that for you,” said Andy. “Yes, certainly. He knew and approved of my treatment and diagnosis.”
    “Did he suggest any part of that diagnosis?”
    After a second Andy said: “No. It was my case.”
    “I see. Mrs Hatterick, was the first Mrs Hatterick altogether happy in her family relations?”
    “I can’t possibly answer that question,” said Rue. “I was her nurse, not her confidante. There was no reason to suppose she was not happy.”
    “Your marriage to your patient’s husband took place not more than ten months after Mrs Hatterick’s death? Now I don’t want you to misunderstand me; you must realize that when so short a period elapses between the death of a man’s first wife and his remarriage, people are bound to ask questions.”
    “There were reasons; my husband will tell you what they were. Is there anything else you wish to know?” Rue was suddenly, furiously angry; but she was frightened, too.
    The little man, Funk, discovered a bronze figure on the table near him, touched it with an exploring, dirty little claw and said in a morose and scared voice: “Home. Daughter…”
    “Exactly,” said Miller. “Quite comprehensible, I’m sure.”
    “… How long,” finished the little Funk, and shrank behind the table and wouldn’t look at anyone.
    “How long have you known Doctor Hatterick?” asked Miller.
    “I trained in the hospital where he was chief of staff. That’s been eight years; I was eighteen when — I was obliged to find a profession for myself so as to earn my own living.”
    “Eight years ago; you’ve known him for eight years then?”
    “Certainly.”
    “Knew him well, I expect.”
    “That’s enough of that line, Miller,” said Andy. “Have you any real evidence that Mrs Hatterick — Crystal Hatterick, that is — was murdered?”
    “We’ve put the cards on the table, Doctor. You know exactly what our position is.”
    “Mrs Hatterick has answered everything you’ve asked her. She’ll be right here in case you have any further inquiries —”
    “Going,” murmured a small voice at the door, and Funk scuttled out of sight into the hall.
    Miller, unperturbed, said: “All right, Doctor Crittenden. The body’s to be exhumed as soon as we get Doctor Hatterick’s consent. Then there’ll be an autopsy. But if we had some notion of what to look for it’d be a quicker and easier job for the chemists. You don’t happen to know, do you, Mrs Hatterick, whether or not the first Mrs Hatterick took any kind of drugs — I mean, medicinally or otherwise? It’s a help, you know, to know what to eliminate when you’re searching for an unknown drug.”
    “Naturally she was given medicines,” said Rue. “Nothing else.”
    “Medicines. Did you give her medicine the night she died?”
    “She doesn’t need to answer that,” said Andy quickly. “You’re exceeding your duty, Miller.”
    “She will answer though,” said Miller.
    Medicine. Yes, she had. She remembered it so clearly; the small glass with the prescribed medicine, diluted with water, already prepared. Julie had prepared and left it on the little table by the screen. Rue herself gave it