really.”
“But you know of no enemies?”
“Oh, no! None at all. Enid was very much respected.”
The formal, old-fashioned epithet was almost inaudible.
Dalgliesh said:
“Then it looks as if this is a motiveless, unpremeditated crime. Normally that would suggest one of the patients. But it hardly seems possible and you are all insistent that it isn’t likely.”
“Oh, no! It couldn’t be a patient! I’m quite sure none of our patients would do a thing like that. They aren’t violent.”
“Not even Mr. Tippett?”
“But it couldn’t have been Tippett. He’s in hospital.”
“So I’m told. How many people here knew that Mr. Tippett wouldn’t be coming to the clinic this Friday?”
“I don’t know. Nagle knew because he took the message and he told Enid and Sister. Sister told me. You see, I usually try to keep an eye on Tippett when I’m specialling the LSD patients on Fridays. I can’t leave my patient for more than a second, of course, but I do pop out occasionally to see if Tippett is all right. Tonight it wasn’t necessary. Poor Tippett, he does love his art therapy! Mrs. Baumgarden has been away ill for six months now, but we couldn’t stop Tippett from coming. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s wicked to suggest that Tippett could have anything to do with it. Wicked!”
She spoke with sudden vehemence. Dalgliesh said mildly:
“But no one is suggesting anything of the sort. If Tippett is in hospital—and I haven’t the least doubt we shall find that he is—then he couldn’t have been here.”
“But someone put his fetish on the body, didn’t they? If Tippett had been here you would have suspected him straight away and he would have been so upset and confused. It was a wicked thing to do. Really wicked!”
Her voice broke and she was very near to tears. Dalgliesh watched the thin fingers twisting in her lap. He said gently:
“I don’t think we need worry about Mr. Tippett. Now I want you to think carefully and tell me everything that you know happened in the clinic from the time you came on duty this evening. Never mind about other people, I just want to know what you did.”
Nurse Bolam remembered very clearly what she had done and, after a second’s hesitation, she gave a careful and logical account. It was her job on Friday evenings to “special” any patient undergoing treatment with lysergic acid. She explained that this was a method of releasing deep-seated inhibitions so that the patient was able to recall and recount the incidents which were being repressed in his subconscious and were responsible for his illness. As she spoke about the treatment Nurse Bolam lost her nervousness and seemed to forget that she was talking to a layman. But Dalgliesh did not interrupt.
“It’s a remarkable drug and Dr. Baguley uses it quite a lot. Its name is lysergic acid diethylamide and I think it was discovered by a German in 1942. We administer it orally, and the usual dose is 0.25 mg. It’s produced in ampoules of 1 mg. and mixed with from 15 to 30 cc’s of distilled water. The patients are told not to have any breakfast. The first effects are noticed after about half an hour and the more disturbing subjective experiences occur from one to one and a half hours after administration. That’s when Dr. Baguley comes down to be with the patient. The effects can last for as long as four hours and the patient is flushed and restless and quite withdrawn from reality. They’re never left alone, of course, and we use the basement room because it’s secluded and quiet and other patients aren’t distressed by the noise. We usually give LSD treatments on Friday afternoon and evening, and I always ‘special’ the patient.”
“I suppose that, if any noise, such as a cry, were heard on Fridays in the basement most of the staff would assume that it was the LSD patient?”
Nurse Bolam looked doubtful.
“I suppose they might. Certainly these patients can be very noisy. My patient
“But you know of no enemies?”
“Oh, no! None at all. Enid was very much respected.”
The formal, old-fashioned epithet was almost inaudible.
Dalgliesh said:
“Then it looks as if this is a motiveless, unpremeditated crime. Normally that would suggest one of the patients. But it hardly seems possible and you are all insistent that it isn’t likely.”
“Oh, no! It couldn’t be a patient! I’m quite sure none of our patients would do a thing like that. They aren’t violent.”
“Not even Mr. Tippett?”
“But it couldn’t have been Tippett. He’s in hospital.”
“So I’m told. How many people here knew that Mr. Tippett wouldn’t be coming to the clinic this Friday?”
“I don’t know. Nagle knew because he took the message and he told Enid and Sister. Sister told me. You see, I usually try to keep an eye on Tippett when I’m specialling the LSD patients on Fridays. I can’t leave my patient for more than a second, of course, but I do pop out occasionally to see if Tippett is all right. Tonight it wasn’t necessary. Poor Tippett, he does love his art therapy! Mrs. Baumgarden has been away ill for six months now, but we couldn’t stop Tippett from coming. He wouldn’t hurt a fly. It’s wicked to suggest that Tippett could have anything to do with it. Wicked!”
She spoke with sudden vehemence. Dalgliesh said mildly:
“But no one is suggesting anything of the sort. If Tippett is in hospital—and I haven’t the least doubt we shall find that he is—then he couldn’t have been here.”
“But someone put his fetish on the body, didn’t they? If Tippett had been here you would have suspected him straight away and he would have been so upset and confused. It was a wicked thing to do. Really wicked!”
Her voice broke and she was very near to tears. Dalgliesh watched the thin fingers twisting in her lap. He said gently:
“I don’t think we need worry about Mr. Tippett. Now I want you to think carefully and tell me everything that you know happened in the clinic from the time you came on duty this evening. Never mind about other people, I just want to know what you did.”
Nurse Bolam remembered very clearly what she had done and, after a second’s hesitation, she gave a careful and logical account. It was her job on Friday evenings to “special” any patient undergoing treatment with lysergic acid. She explained that this was a method of releasing deep-seated inhibitions so that the patient was able to recall and recount the incidents which were being repressed in his subconscious and were responsible for his illness. As she spoke about the treatment Nurse Bolam lost her nervousness and seemed to forget that she was talking to a layman. But Dalgliesh did not interrupt.
“It’s a remarkable drug and Dr. Baguley uses it quite a lot. Its name is lysergic acid diethylamide and I think it was discovered by a German in 1942. We administer it orally, and the usual dose is 0.25 mg. It’s produced in ampoules of 1 mg. and mixed with from 15 to 30 cc’s of distilled water. The patients are told not to have any breakfast. The first effects are noticed after about half an hour and the more disturbing subjective experiences occur from one to one and a half hours after administration. That’s when Dr. Baguley comes down to be with the patient. The effects can last for as long as four hours and the patient is flushed and restless and quite withdrawn from reality. They’re never left alone, of course, and we use the basement room because it’s secluded and quiet and other patients aren’t distressed by the noise. We usually give LSD treatments on Friday afternoon and evening, and I always ‘special’ the patient.”
“I suppose that, if any noise, such as a cry, were heard on Fridays in the basement most of the staff would assume that it was the LSD patient?”
Nurse Bolam looked doubtful.
“I suppose they might. Certainly these patients can be very noisy. My patient
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