Chapter 71281537

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Chapter NumberX
Chapter Title
Chapter Url
Full Date1897-12-25
Page Number31
Word Count358
Last Corrected0000-00-00
Newspaper TitleAustralian Town and Country Journal (Sydney, NSW : 1870 - 1907)
Trove TitleThe Mystery of Phillip Bennion's Death
article text


Tho Mystery of Philip

Bouillon's Death.

(By Richard Marah.)

Author, of "The Crime and the Criminal,!' "Mrs.

Musgrave*s Husband," &c, &c.

CHAPTER X.-(Continued.)

"Nonsense! Tho thing was a coincidence, no more. So ghastly a coincidence that no wonder it worked on your imagination. Your suppositi tious artist In muirder ls am impossible person possible in theory but not in practice. How is he going to work his wicked will? Think. Not by any sort of violence. There science would be down on him all round. . A blow might leave no external mark-a blow from some sharp weapon, say the favorite needle-like stiletto of the novelist, for instance. Internal examination would make it as visible as the writing on the wall. One hears a good deal of loose talk, and one reads a good deal of inflated nonsense about insidious drugs and poisons which leave behind them no trace of their presence. The autopsy on dear old Ben was in the hands of Blakeham AVarner and Lewis Cowan, two of the keenest specialists in London, and that means in the world. I wondered why you thought it necessary to call them in. Now I understand. Y'oai did quite 'night; otherwise, under the circum stances, there might always have been a vague doubt upon your mind, and possibly upon mine. No poison or drug, of any sort or kind, could con ceal ,its presence from those two men. They might not have been able to put a name to it, but they would have seen that it was, or that it had been there. They would have spotted that some thing . had been present as unerringly as you would spot the nose upon my face. Science has reached a point at which, within certain limits, as a detective it is infallible. It may not be able to keep a man alive, but it is able to tell you, and that with absolute certainty, if he died from what are called natural causes. No, my dear fel low, your artist in murder is, in the present year of grace, simply and purely a creature of the imagination."