“How the devil do you know that?” asked Tullock.
“Because about a quarter to six he called at Fullarton’s, the baker in Fairholme Street, to collect the month’s rent, and explained he was a bit late as he’d just been having a cup of tea and a bit of toast. Then from the contents of his stomach this toast had not long started to digest. As far as we can find out, this baker’s was the last rent he collected.”
“How much money would he have had on him then?” asked Tullock frowningly. “Have you any idea?”
“His employers say from seventy to eighty pounds. You see what we think happened was this. He suddenly became faint and was helped into some house to recover. Then he snuffed out straight away and the people in that house, realising he had got a lot of money with him, yielded to sudden temp
