The Case of the Dead Diplomat Read Free Page B

must have bled to death. The concierge did not think that Mr. Everett brought anyone back with him last night and she heard no one go upstairs.”
    â€œYou have formed a theory, monsieur?”
    The officer spread his forearms wide. “We have not yet had time to consider theories beyond this: at some time after the poor gentleman returned to his appartement he received a visitor—a person who must have known him well or he would have had to make inquiries of the concierge . For some reason yet to be ascertained there must have been a quarrel; one of them must have attacked the other and in the struggle that ensued the visitor must have snatched up this dagger and plunged it point first into his adversary’s throat. Then he must have shut the door behind him as gently as possible and made off without awaking the concierge . At present officers are searching the appartement for finger-prints, but these seldom lead to identifications, unless they were made by some well-known criminal. I do not think that this crime was the work of any known criminal.”
    â€œWhere is the body now?”
    â€œIt has been taken to the Medico-legal School. If you desire to see it I will send one of my officers with you.”
    â€œI should be very glad if you would. I was hoping that you would allow Dr. Hoskyn to join your medical officer in making the autopsy.”
    The commissaire bowed politely. “That does not rest with me, monsieur, but with the authorities of the School; but I imagine that they would be very glad to avail themselves of Dr. Hoskyn’s good offices. I will inquire.”
    â€œI suppose that you have not yet had time to look through the papers found on Mr. Everett’s body or in the appartement ?”
    â€œI have them all here, monsieur, including a number of notes and coins which no ordinary thief would have left behind him. I shall not fail to present a copy of my report to his Excellency the ambassador when it is complete. Now, if you are going to the School I think it might be wise for you to go there early. I will ring up our police surgeon and arrange to meet you there.”
    The laboratory attached to the Medico-legal School is the most depressing spot in Paris. It seems always to be tenanted; the bodies of the unrecognized are laid on sloping slate slabs behind plate-glass windows. The public, who come to look for missing friends, pass in front of the windows, where they may find their nearest and dearest lying exposed to the general gaze like the wares in a fishmonger’s shop.
    A youngish man in a black wide-awake hat, who appeared to have been waiting in the doorway, came forward as the taxi pulled up. He swept off his imposing headgear, disclosing a domed head polished like a billiard ball, and introduced himself as Dr. Audusson, a professor of the School. Leading the way into the building, the police officer explained to him the object of the visit of the two Englishmen, and they were taken straight into the room fitted up for post-mortem examinations. There, covered by a sheet, lay the body of Carruthers’ late colleague. The sheet was stripped off, disclosing the body dressed in its ordinary day clothes, which were stiffened and discoloured by extravasated blood. Dr. Audusson clicked his tongue and observed to his British colleague that the cause of death was not far to seek. He pointed to the deep incision in the throat. The two professional men consulted in an undertone, and then Dr. Hoskyn came over to Carruthers.
    â€œI suppose that the ambassador wants a complete post-mortem. He wouldn’t be satisfied by a report that that wound in itself would account for the death?”
    Carruthers had his share of Scottish caution. “The question of drug-taking or poison might arise hereafter. I think that it would be wise to cover all points.”
    â€œVery well; my French colleague is quite willing. and we shall have the help of the public laboratory for