Sucks books

Often I have had the dream of that funeral
procession and always I saw the same face, his face. Oh, it is
horrible--terrible!'"
It was evident that Dr. Leslie at least was impressed by the
dream.
"What have you done since?" asked Craig.
"I have turned loose everyone I could find available," replied Dr.
Leslie, handing over a sheaf of reports.
Kennedy glanced keenly over them as they lay spread out on the
table. "I should like to see the body," he said, at length.
It was lying in the next room, awaiting Dr. Leslie's permission to
be removed.
"At first," explained the doctor, leading the way, "we thought it
might be a case of knock-out drops, chloral, you know--or perhaps
chloral and whiskey, a combination which might unite to make
chloroform in the blood. But no. We have tested for everything we
can think of. In fact there seems to be no trace of a drug
present. It is inexplicable. If Maitland really committed suicide,
he must have taken SOMETHING--and as far as we can find out there
is no trace of anything.


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