"Yes."

"What evidence?"

"Your own words, Monsieur le Prefet."

"My own words? What do you mean?"

"I will tell you, Monsieur le Prefet. You began by saying that Cosmo
Mornington had taken up medicine and practised it with great skill;
next, you said that he had given himself an injection which,
carelessly administered, set up inflammation and caused his death
within a few hours."

"Yes."

"Well, Monsieur le Prefet, I maintain that a man who practises medicine
with great skill and who is accustomed to treating sick people, as Cosmo
Mornington was, is incapable of giving himself a hypodermic injection
without first taking every necessary antiseptic precaution. I have seen
Cosmo at work, and I know how he set about things."

"Well?"

"Well, the doctor just wrote a certificate as any doctor will when there
is no sort of clue to arouse his suspicions."

"So your opinion is--"

"Maitre Lepertuis," asked Perenna, turning to the solicitor, "did you
notice nothing unusual when you were summoned to Mr. Mornington's
death-bed?"

"No, nothing. Mr. Mornington was in a state of coma."

"It's a strange thing in itself," observed Don Luis, "that an injection,
however badly administered, should produce such rapid results. Were there
no signs of suffering?"

"No ... or rather, yes.... Yes, I remember the face showed brown patches
which I did not see on the occasion of my first visit."

"Brown patches? That confirms my supposition Cosmo Mornington was
poisoned."

"But how?" exclaimed the Prefect.

"By some substance introduced into one of the phials of
glycero-phosphate, or into the syringe which the sick man employed."

"But the doctor?" M. Desmalions objected.

"Maitre Lepertuis," Perenna continued, "did you call the doctor's
attention to those brown patches?"

"Yes, but he attached no importance to them."

"Was it his ordinary medical adviser?"

"No, his ordinary medical adviser, Doctor Pujol, who happens to be a
friend of mine and who had recommended me to him as a solicitor, was ill.
The doctor whom I saw at his death-bed must have been a local
practitioner."

"I have his name and address here," said the Prefect of Police, who had
turned up the certificate. "Doctor Bellavoine, 14 Rue d'Astorg."

"Have you a medical directory, Monsieur le Prefet?"

M. Desmalions opened a directory and turned over the pages. Presently
he declared:

"There is no Doctor Bellavoine; and there is no doctor living at