Wellington says as he signs the death certificate. "No doubt about it. All the classic signs were right there, plain as day. In fact, it was a textbook case if ever I saw one." He passes the certificate to Mayor Winters. "No doubt about it," he adds, just to make sure that he gets his point across. "Well," the mayor replies, stepping aside so the undertakers can lift Mrs. Mayberry's body off the examination table and onto their trolley, "I'm glad we've got that settled. I suppose the most surprising part of this whole thing is the fact that the old hag had a heart at all." "If I had a penny for every time someone's made that joke today," Dr. Wellington points out, "I'd be able to retire by teatime." "You did the original autopsy on her husband, didn't you?" the mayor asks. "I know what the official report said, but what did your gut tell you? Did the old dear hurry him along with some switched pills?" "Who knows?" Dr. Wellington replies. "Such matters are beyond my area of expertise, although I've heard all the same rumors as everyone else.
