“But none of them will listen to me,” she said grimly. “They all listen to that simpering hussy who married John for his money, and to her paramour who signed the death certificate.”

“For the dog?” asked Shayne with interest.

“Of course not for the dog. For John. That young whippersnapper she brought in and foisted on my brother after old Doctor Jenson died two months ago. I warned John against him, but he wouldn’t listen to me. Oh, no! The only person he listened to was Anita.”

“The death certificate?” said Shayne patiently. “Did it specifically state a heart attack?”

“Naturally. What else would you expect a widow’s lover to say about her husband’s death? Would you expect him to suggest an autopsy… knowing full well it must be poison?”

“Let’s get back to the dog,” said Shayne patiently. “When did it die… and how did it come to eat your food?”

“Because I fed it to him out of my plate, that’s why.” Henrietta Rogell’s voice was grimly triumphant. “At supper last night. After I had spoken my mind to them plainly, and I could see they were frightened. I told them right out that I knew John had been poisoned by one or all of them, and I intended to prove it. I warned them I was going to force an autopsy on John before he was cremated tomorrow, and I could see they were frightened. So I had this premonition when the buffet supper was served. It was such a perfect opportunity to get rid of me that I was suspicious. And when I tasted my creamed chicken I knew. And I slipped some on a saucer to her nasty little dog and he lapped it up. And ten minutes later he was dead. And your efficient and honest chief of police says that’s no proof,” she went on bitterly. “Just a coincidence, he says… or an accident. And he says his hands are tied because the chicken was all thrown down the garbage disposal and there’s nothing left to analyze. Why not the dog? I asked him. And I ask you. Wouldn’t that be proof that they tried to kill me? But dear little Daffy is already buried and can’t be disturbed. Why not? Because he was the darling of Anita’s heart and she just can’t bear to think of his sacred remains being desecrated by some bad, old doctor making a stomach analysis. And your Will Gentry says he can’t legally do a thing if she refuses permission to dig him up.”