The Poisoned Goblet by Arthur Gask

A quarter of an hour later the detective was being ushered into a large, homely kitchen, and the ex-policeman was putting a cold leg of pork upon the table.

"We've got the whole place to ourselves to-day," he explained, "for the children are at school and the missis is out gadding about. I let her out of the cells for the day, and she's in Downham Market buying things we don't need and don't want. Bless her heart! She's like all women -- directly she's got a few bob in her pocket she must let them go. Beer? Ah! that's right. I thought you might be one of those tea-drinking fiends. " He went on. "I remember there was a doctor once on my beat, a very clever chap, but always on the booze, and many a time I've popped him into his own doorway, instead of running him into the station as I ought to have done. Well, he told me once that the early morning cup of tea some people take was more responsible for indigestion than anything else. He was a fine fellow and married a barmaid afterwards, and then she wouldn't let him touch a drop of drink. Cut it right out and made a splendid chap of him. When I left the Force he had got four kiddies and was a bit of a nob on Harley street. Consulting physician and becoming a big bug on nerves."