I felt quite pleased with myself, as I overhauled my syringe, pregnant with so great a potential power of evil.
I intended to use muscarin, a little known extractive from poisonous fungi, and curare, and I felt pretty certain that they would have the desired effect. And then, with Fernie removed, and Nanson looked upon as a lunatic, the finger of suspicion could not be pointed at me.
I had had made to my design, about two years before, a pocket-case which would hold in safety a fully charged hypodermic syringe, and this was a necessity to me, because, as a rule, when I used my favourite weapon, it had to be manipulated in a hurry. If it were necessary to charge it on the scene of action, a considerable amount of time was required, and very often I had not more than thirty or forty seconds, free from observation, in which to work.
On the next morning, I still further inflamed my patient's temper against Fernie, and when he became excited I gave him two tabloids of morphia, ostensibly to calm him, really to keep him quiet until the other drugs were active, and then, after waiting half an hour, I put my syringe into the back of his neck, and injected
