The Case of the Horrified Heirs

CHAPTER ONE

Murder is not perpetrated in a vacuum. It is a product of greed, avarice, hate, revenge, or perhaps fear. As a splashing stone sends ripples to the farthest edges of the pond, murder affects the lives of many people.

Early morning sunlight percolated through the window of a private room in the Phillips Memorial Hospital.

Traffic noises in the street which had been hushed to a low hum during the night began to swell in volume. The steps of nurses in the corridors increased in tempo, indicating an increase in the work load.

Patients were being washed, temperatures taken, blood samples collected; then the breakfast trays came rolling along, the faint aroma of coffee and oatmeal seeped into the corridors, as if apologetically asking permission to push aside the aura of antiseptic severity, promising that the intrusion would be only temporary.

Nurses holding sterile hypodermic syringes hurried into the rooms of surgery patients, giving the preliminary quieting drug which would allay apprehensions and pave the way for the anesthetic.

Lauretta Trent sat up in bed and smiled wanly at the nurse.

“I feel better,” she proclaimed in a weak voice.

“Doctor promised to look in this morning right after surgery,” the nurse told her, smiling reassuringly.

“He said I could go home?” the patient asked eagerly.

“You’ll have to ask him about that,” the nurse said. “But you’re going to have to watch your diet for a while. This last upset was very, very bad indeed.”

Lauretta sighed. “I wish I knew what was causing them. I’ve tried to be careful. I must be developing some sort of an allergy.”