The K.C. rose at once to ask some questions. He had got the photograph he had retained, in his hand.
“May I ask how old you are, Dr. Clover?” he smiled most pleasantly. “Ah, thirty-three! And how long is it since you took your degrees? Ah, eight years! And how long have you held the position of police surgeon? Nearly two! Thank you!”
He paused a few moments and then went on silkily. “And in the course of your professional career, Dr. Clover, have you performed autopsies upon many suicides who have shot themselves in the face? Ah, you shake your head!” He smiled. “Well, have you performed even one autopsy in such circumstances?”
The doctor got red in the same way that the fingerprint expert had done. “No, I have not,” he admitted, and then he added quickly, “Such cases are very rare in p
