Description
The apples studied at the Institute of Pomology at King’s Weltham did not normally include the Apple of Discord, but Sam Partlett seemed to have brought it with him when he joined the staff. Apart from the noses he put out of joint, there was the matter of his unfortunate personality. And his even more unfortunate treatment of his wife, who seemed afraid of him. Dr Emma Ritchie, also on the staff of the Institute, soon had reason to regret allowing herself to be manipulated into giving the Partletts a home in her vacant flat.
But it was not Sam Partlett who was found dead at the Institute, throat slashed with one of the lab razors, while an unknown woman screamed in the doorway and a bloodstained colleague stood by, weapon in hand.
The small, close-knit scientific community was suddenly opened up as neatly as the victim’s throat to the scrutiny of Inspector Day, who quietly set to work to probe the secrets of people who were, as one of them put it, ‘as busy as bees with every sort of experiment, yet the one thing we don’t think of investigating is the ultimate question.’
Had someone at last carried out an experiment with death?
