The police made no attempt to subdue the buzz of repressed though excited conversation which arose as French ceased speaking. The coroner was still laboriously writing down French’s statement, but he soon laid his pen down and spoke. “You have made such a complete statement, Mr. French, that I have but little to ask you. There are just one or two small points upon which I should like further information,” and he went on to put his questions. The coroner was a clever man and he played up well to the request of the police. To the public he continued to give the impression of a careful, painstaking official, laboriously trying to obtain all the facts in a difficult and complicated matter; in reality his questions were futile in every respect except that they directed attention away from the features of the case which the authorities wished kept secret. The result was that when he had finished and asked if any one else desired to put a question, all were convinced that there was no more to be learnt and embarrassing topics were avoided. “Dr. Reginald Lingard!” The tall, thin, ascetic looking man seated beside Philpot rose and went into the box. He deposed that he practised at Hellifield and was the police surgeon for the district. “Now, Dr. Lingard,” began the coroner, “at the request of the authorities did you make a post-mortem examination of the remains of the late Mr. Markham Giles, upon which this inquest is being held?” “That is so.” “And did you ascertain the cause of death?” “I did.” “Will you tell the jury what that was.” “The man died from shock following a large injection of cocaine.” “But an injection of cocaine is surely not fatal?” “Not under ordinary circumstances. But to a person suffering from myocarditis a large injection is inevitably so.” Though the evidence of French ought to have prepared every one for such a _dénouement_, there was a gasp of surprise at this cold, precise statement. It was only a few minutes since Dr. Emerson had been heard to testify that he had given a certificate of death from heart disease without mention of cocaine, and that he had no doubt as to the correctness of his diagnosis. What, every one wondered, would Emerson say to this? “I suppose, doctor, you have no doubt as to your conclusion?” “None whatever.” “Could this cocaine have been self administered?” “Undoubtedly it could.” “With what object?” Dr. Lingard gave a slight shrug. “It is universal knowledge that many persons are addicted to the drug. They take it because of its enjoyable temporary effects. It might have been taken with that motive in this instance, or it might have been taken with the knowledge that it would cause death.” “You mean that Mr. Giles might have committed suicide?” “From the medical point of view, yes.” “Might it also have been administered by some other person?” “Unquestionably.” “With what object, Dr. Lingard?”