commissary had finished his report there arrived no less a person than M.
Simon, the chief of police, round-faced and affable, a brisk, dapper man
whose ready smile had led more than one trusting criminal into regretted
confidences.

And a little later came M. Hauteville, the judge in charge of the case, a
cold, severe figure, handsome in his younger days, but soured, it was said,
by social disappointments and ill health. He was in evening dress, having
been summoned posthaste from the theater. Both of these officials went over
the case with the commissary and the doctor, both viewed the body and
studied its surroundings and, having formed a theory of the crime, both
proceeded to draw up a report. And the doctor drew up _his_ report. And
already Gibelin (now at the prison with Kittredge) had made elaborate notes
for _his_ report. And outside the hotel, with eager notebooks, were a score
of reporters all busy with _their_ reports. No doubt that, in the matter of
paper and ink, full justice would be done to the sudden taking off of this
gallant billiard player!

Meantime the official police photographer and his assistants had arrived
(this was long after midnight) with special apparatus for photographing the
victim and the scene of the crime. And their work occupied two full hours
owing largely to the difficult manipulation of a queer, clumsy camera that
photographed the body _from above_ as it lay on the floor.

In the intervals of these formalities the officials discussed the case with
a wide variance in opinions and conclusions. The chief of police and M.
Pougeot were strong for the theory of murder, while M. Hauteville leaned
toward suicide. The doctor was undecided.

"But the shot was fired at the closest possible range," insisted the judge;