“You are, doctor. I had not intended to mention my suspicion, but since you have asked me, I’ll answer your question. I will ask you to keep what I am about to say very strictly to yourself, and on that understanding I must tell you that I’m not connected with an insurance company: I’m an inspector from Scotland Yard. Certain facts which I do not wish to go into at present have led me to suspect that Mr. Giles may have been murdered. I want to make sure.” Dr. Emerson stared as if he couldn’t have believed his ears, and his jaw dropped. “God bless my soul!” he cried. “_Murdered?_ Did I hear you say murdered?” “Yes,” said French, “but I am not sure about it. It is only a suspicion.” “A pretty nasty suspicion for me, after my certificate! But you couldn’t be right. The very idea is absurd! Who could have murdered such a harmless man, and badly off at that!” “Well, I think it might be possible to find a motive. But if you don’t mind, I’d really rather not discuss what may prove to be a mare’s nest. However, you see now the object of my questions. I want to know the possibilities from the medical point of view. Perhaps you will tell me about that autopsy?” Dr. Emerson was manifestly disturbed by French’s suggestion. He moved uneasily in his chair and gave vent to exclamations of scepticism and concern. “Of course,” he went on, “I’ll tell you everything I can, and I needn’t say I most sincerely hope your suspicion is unfounded. You are perfectly correct on the other point. Only an autopsy can establish beyond question the fact of a death from myocarditis. If I had had the slightest doubt in Mr. Giles’ case I should have required one before giving a certificate. But I had no doubt, and with all due respect to you I have none now.” “You may be right, doctor. I’ll tell you as soon as I know myself. In the meantime thank you for your information and not a word to a soul.” French left the house with a deep satisfaction filling his mind. Dr. Emerson’s admission was what he had hoped for and it very nearly banished his last remaining doubt. But he felt that he ought to get Dr. Philpot’s views also. Philpot had seen the man before death and his evidence would certainly be required if the matter went further. Accordingly, he turned in the direction of the younger man’s house, and a few minutes later was entering a consulting-room for the second time that day. “Good-afternoon, doctor,” he said, with his usual cheery smile. “I’ve come on my old tack of looking for information. But it’s a very simple matter this time: just one question on quite a different subject.”