Ed McBain - Eighty Million Eyes

“What do you suppose they’re doing in there?” Meyer asked.

“I know what I’d be doing in there,” O’Brien said.

“Why don’t you go home?” Carella said.

“You don’t need me?”

“No. Go on, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You going in?”

“Yeah.”

“You sure you won’t need me to take pictures?”

“Ha ha,” Meyer said, and then followed Carella, who had already begun crossing the street. They paused on the front step. Carella found the doorbell and rang it. There was no answer. He rang it again. Meyer stepped back off the stoop. The lights on the first floor went on.

“He’s coming down,” Meyer whispered.

“Let him come down,” Carella said. “Second murderer.”

“Huh?”

“ Macbeth , act three, scene three.”

“Boy,” Meyer said, and the entry lights went on. The front door opened a moment later.

“Dr. Nelson?” Carella said.

“Yes?” The doctor seemed surprised, but not particularly annoyed. He was wearing a black silk robe, and his feet were encased in slippers.

“I wonder if we might come in,” Carella said.

“Well, I was just getting ready for bed.”

“This won’t take a moment.”

“Well…”

“You’re alone, aren’t you, doctor?”

“Yes, of course,” Nelson said.

“May we come in?”

“Well…well, yes. I suppose so. But I am tired, and I hope—”

“We’ll be brief as we possibly can,” Carella said, and he walked into the house. There was a couch in the entry, a small table before it. A mirror was on the wall opposite the door; a shelf for mail was fastened to the wall below it. Nelson did not invite them upstairs. He put his hands in the pockets of his robe, and made it clear from his stance that he did not intend moving farther into the house than the entry hall.

“I’ve got a cold,” Meyer said.

Nelson’s eyebrows went up just a trifle.

“I’ve been trying everything,” Meyer continued. “I just started on some new stuff. I hope it works.”

Nelson frowned. “Excuse me, Detective Meyer,” he said, “but did you come here to discuss your—”

Carella reached into his jacket pocket. When he extended his hand to Nelson, there was a purple-and-black gelatin capsule on the palm.

“Do you know what this is, Dr. Nelson?” he asked.

“It looks like a vitamin capsule,” Nelson answered.

“It is, to be specific, a PlexCin capsule, the combination of Vitamin C and B-complex that Stan Gifford was using.”

“Oh, yes,” Nelson said, nodding.

“In fact, to be more specific, it is a capsule taken from the bottle of vitamins Gifford kept in his home.”

“Yes?” Nelson said. He seemed extremely puzzled. He seemed to be wondering exactly where Carella was leading.

“We sent the bottle of capsules to Lieutenant Grossman at the lab this afternoon,” Carella said. “No poison in any of them. Only vitamins.”

“But I’ve got a cold,” Meyer said.

Nelson frowned.

“And Detective Meyer’s cold led us to call Lieutenant Grossman again, just for the fun of it. He agreed to meet us at the lab, Dr. Nelson. We’ve been down there for the past few hours. Sam—that’s Lieutenant Grossman—had some interesting things to tell us, and we wanted your ideas. We want to be as specific about this as possible, you see, since there are a great many specifics in the Gifford case. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, I suppose so.”

“The specific poison, for example, and the specific dose, and the specific speed of the poison, and the specific dissolving rate of a gelatin capsule, isn’t that right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Nelson said.

“You’re an attending physician at General Presbyterian, aren’t you, Dr. Nelson?”

“Yes, I am.”

“We spoke to the pharmacist there just a little while ago. He tells us they stock strophanthin in its crystalline powder form, oh, maybe three or four grains of it. The rest is in ampules, and even that isn’t kept in any great amount.”

“That’s very interesting. But what—”

“Open the capsule, Dr. Nelson.”

“What?”

“The vitamin capsule. Open it. It comes apart. Go ahead. The size is a double-O, Dr. Nelson. You know that, don’t you?”

“I would assume it was either an O or a double-O.”

“But let’s be specific. This specific capsule that contains the vitamins Gifford habitually took is a double-O.”

“All right then, it’s a double-O.”

“Open it.”

Nelson sat on the couch, put the capsule on the low table, and carefully pulled one part from the other. A sifting of powder fell onto the tabletop.

“That’s the vitamin compound, Dr. Nelson. The same stuff that’s in every one of those capsules in Gifford’s bottle. Harmless. In fact, to be specific, beneficial. Isn’t that right?”

“That’s right.”

“Take another look at the capsule.” Nelson looked. “No, Dr. Nelson, inside the capsule. Do you see anything?”

“Why…there…there appears to be another capsule inside it.”

“Why, yes!” Carella said. “Upon my soul, there does appear to be another capsule inside it. As a matter of fact, Dr. Nelson, it is a number three gelatin capsule, which, as you see, fits very easily into the large double-O capsule. We made this sample at the lab.” He lifted the larger capsule from the table and then shook out the rest of its vitamin contents. The smaller capsule fell onto the tabletop. Using his forefinger, Carella pushed the smaller capsule away from the small mound of vitamins and said, “The third capsule, Dr. Nelson.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“We were looking for a third capsule, you see. Since the one Gifford took at lunch couldn’t possibly have killed him. Now, Dr. Nelson, if this smaller capsule were loaded with two grains of strophanthin and placed inside the larger capsule, that could have killed him, don’t you think?”

“Certainly, but it would have—”

“Yes, Dr. Nelson?”

“Well, it seems to me that…that the smaller capsule would have dissolved very rapidly, too. I mean—”

“You mean, don’t you, Dr. Nelson, that if the outside capsule took six minutes to dissolve, the inside capsule might take, oh, let’s say another three or four or five or however many minutes to dissolve. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes.”

“So that doesn’t really change anything, does it? The poison still would have had to be taken just before Gifford went on.”

“Yes, I would imagine so.”

“But I have a cold,” Meyer said.

“Yes, and he’s taking some capsules of his own,” Carella said, smiling. “Only has to take two a day because the drug is released slowly over a period of twelve hours. They’re called time-release capsules, Dr. Nelson. I’m sure you’re familiar with them.” Nelson seemed as if he were about to rise, and Carella instantly said, “Stay where you are, Dr. Nelson, we’re not finished.”

Meyer smiled and said, “Of course, my capsules were produced commercially. I imagine it would be impossible to duplicate a time-release capsule without manufacturing facilities, wouldn’t it, Dr. Nelson?”

“I would imagine so.”

“Well, to be specific,” Carella said, “Lieutenant Sam Grossman said it was impossible to duplicate such a capsule. But he remembered experiments from way back in his Army days, Dr. Nelson, when some of the doctors in his outfit were playing around with what is called enteric coating. Did the doctors in your outfit try it, too? Are you familiar with the expression ‘enteric coating,’ Dr. Nelson?”

“Of course I am,” Nelson said, and he rose, and Carella leaned across the table and put his hands on the doctor’s shoulders and slammed him down onto the couch again.