“Ah!” said the inspector.
The doctor indicated the body with a careless gesture. “Know anything about him?”
“Very little,” the Inspector replied untruthfully. “I’d got my eye on him, though,” he admitted.
“Any reason to suspect suicide?” asked the doctor curtly.
“Well—no reason to expect it, doctor,” returned the inspector with some care. “No, certainly not.”
“Um!” The doctor removed his pince-nez and began to polish them with his handkerchief. “You were on your way to arrest him, I understand?”
“Somebody seems to have been talking,” the inspector observed, and grinned openly at Roger’s guilty blush.
“I mean,” amplified the doctor, “there may be some connection.”
“You think it’s poison, then?” enquired the inspector genially.
The doctor frowned. “I can’t possibly say that yet, till I’ve examined the body. At present I see no marks of violence. I’d like to get him on to his bed; will you give me a hand?”