“Well, Doctor Doyle, what do you make of it? The man is dead?”
“Yes, indeed, there is no question about that, Mr. Gleason.”
“What was the cause?”
“It appears to be a case of heart disease.”
“Are you sure of it?”
“One cannot be absolutely sure, Mr. Gleason, without performing an autopsy,” Doctor Doyle said blandly, while he wiped his fingers with his handkerchief. “I feel reasonably sure. There is no wound that I can discover, nor does there appear to be any indication of foul play. Yes, I feel reasonably sure of it,” he repeated.
“You don’t think, then, that there is any occasion to notify the coroner?” Gleason said inquiringly.
“There seems to be none. I have no doubt that the man died from natural causes. There is no superficial evidence to the contrary, or any——”
Doctor Doyle broke off abruptly, his gaze having fallen upon the detective, who had passed back of the couple and approached the body.
Carter then was bending over it, and with his finger had raised one of Todd’s eyelids. He studied the ball and pupil for several seconds, then took a powerful lens from his pocket and inspected the dead man’s face and lips. He looked up after a moment and said: