We went to the mortuary that afternoon. The dead man was still in the pierrot's dress—I had arranged this should be so, wishing to afford the professor every facility in his investigation. He was more interested in the dress than in the man, examining it very carefully with his lens. The stockings and shoes came in for close inspection, also the comical pierrot's hat, which he fitted to the dead man's head for a moment.
"Had he his hat on when he was pulled from under the platform?" he asked.
"No. It was found after the doctor's examination, close to where the body had been."
"Who found it?"
"Watson—Brother Pluto."
"Who first thought of looking for it?" Quarles asked.
"I think Watson just stooped down and saw it. He would naturally think of it, since it was part of the dress."
The professor nodded, as if the explanation satisfied him. Then he looked at the head, neck, and hands.
"He was a singer, you say?"
"Yes—a tenor."