“How about chloroform burns?” suggested Parker.
“Tst, tst,” said the doctor, annoyed at not having thought of this himself—“I wish you gentlemen of the police force would not be quite so abrupt. You want everything decided in too great a hurry. I was about to remark—if you had not anticipated me—that since I could not put the appearance down to sunburn, there remains some such possibility as you suggest. I can’t possibly say that it is the result of chloroform—medical pronouncements of that kind cannot be hastily made without cautious investigation—but I was about to remark that it might be.”
“In that case,” put in Wimsey, “could she have died from the effects of the chloroform? Supposing she was given too much or that her heart was weak?”
“My good sir,” said the doctor, deeply offended this time, “look at that blow upon the head, and ask yourself whether it is necessary to suggest any other cause of death. Moreover, if she had died of the chloroform, where would be the necessity for the blow?”
“That is exactly what I was wondering,” said Wimsey.
“I suppose,” went on the doctor, “you will hardly dispute my medical knowledge?”
“Certainly not,” said Wimsey, “but as you say, it is unwise to make any medical pronouncement without cautious investigation.”
“And this is not the place for it,” put in Parker, hastily. “I think we have done all there is to do here. Will you go with the body to the mortuary, doctor. Mr. Andrews, I shall be obliged if you will come and take a few photographs of some footmarks and so on up in the wood. The light is bad, I’m afraid, but we must do our best.”
He took Wimsey by the arm.
“The man is a fool, of course,” he said, “but we can get a second opinion. In the meantime, we had better let it be supposed that we accept the surface explanation of all this.”