But Rita had a plan. And what a plan. It was hours before she could talk me into it. As it happens, the plan blew up, almost taking us with it. But here's how the plan went.
Clinton didn't know me, we hoped. Or at least, I hoped. I was to contact Clinton and tell him I might make a deal for the book collection. He was to come over to the house and we would talk about it.
..."Why not, Clinton? Why not eat one of the sugar packets. Just taste one. Any of them. They're all alike. But you know what's in them, don't you? You know how Mr. Honeycut used sugar packets because he couldn't see well enough to spoon sugar any more. All you had to do was doctor a few packets and the old man would eventually use one of them and then die of a stroke.
"But guess What, Clinton. The poison you used is traceable. Now that we know for sure George was poisoned, we can get an exhumation order and find the poison."
Clinton didn't seem to be budging, so I burst out in a sort of hail Mary pass, "We found some of the packets, Clinton."