When Parslett was picked up and carried to the hospital--this St. Mary's
Hospital, close by here--he was found to have fifty pounds in gold in his
pocket. Now, according to Parslett's widow, whom I've seen this morning,
Parslett was considerably hard up yesterday. Trade hasn't been very good
with him of late, and she naturally knows his circumstances. He went out
of the house last night about nine o'clock, saying he was going to have a
stroll round, and the widow says she's certain he'd no fifty pounds on him
when he left her--it would be a wonder, she says, if he'd as much as fifty
shillings! Now then, Mr. Purdie, where did a man like that pick up fifty
sovereigns between the time he went out, and the time he was picked up,
dying?"
"He might have borrowed it from some friend," suggested Purdie.
"I thought of that, sir," said Ayscough. "It seems the natural thing to
think of. But Mrs. Parslett says they haven't a friend from whom he could
have borrowed such an amount--not one! No, sir!--my belief is that
Parslett saw some man enter and leave Multenius's shop; that he knew the
man; that he went and plumped him with the affair, and that the man gave
him that gold to get rid of him at the moment--and contrived to poison
him, too!"
Purdie considered the proposition for awhile in silence.
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