A Very Large Hole OR Monsieur Broca's Dilemma

In the alleys of Paris in the 19th Century, a physician lurked below the window of a small apartment. He carried with him a large knife, a pithing lathe and a heavy glass cylinder with two bobbing objects inside. A daring tomcat rubbed against Monsieur Broca's leg, and he kicked it to scare it away, knocking over a pile of debris in the process.

A candle-flame appeared in the window, and the window opened outward.
"Allo? Who is... there?"

"Ah, oui, Tobias. It is I."

Tobias squinted out his window into the dark alley.
"Monsieur Broca? Is...."

"Oui, Tobias. Ehh..."

His eyes adjusting to the darkness, Tobias's glance turned to the items in Monsieur Broca's arms.
"What... are..."

"What am I doing here? I am, you see, making a housecall, yes?"

Tobias scratched his head. "But, Monsieur Broca, I.... I did not..."

"Send for me? Well, yes. It's, how you say, a complimentary service of mine."

"Monse...Monsieur Broca, it is the middle of... middle of..."

"The night? Well, yes. There are very specific reasons for making housecalls at night. Very special reasons, you see. May I come in?"

"Monsieur Broca, my... my wife"

"Oh, is she asleep? This is of no concern. Have you got another room?"

"Yes"

"Good, may I come in?"

"Monsieur, I don't..."

"Please, the fate of your mind is at stake. If you do not allow me inside, I may never learn the nature of your ailment."

"I..... please, come... in." Tobias opened the door and Monsieur Broca lugged his equipment inside. "Now... what is this a...about?"

"Ah yes, allow me to tell you what I have only recently learned. You see, I have followed many men who suffer as you do, who have lost the use of words." Monsieur Broca placed his lathe and knife on the table. "And, as it should happen, one of these men was struck by a carriage last week, and I had the great pleasure of performing his autopsy."

"Great... p..pleasure?"

"Yes, certainly. And I found a very curious thing in this man's brain. You see, there was... umm, well, a very large hole."

"A hole?"

Monsieur Broca opened the lid of the glass container and removed a gray mass with a very large hole in it. "You see? A very large hole. And just yesterday, another of my patients, he drowned himself in the river. And I found the same hole in his brain." Monsieur Broca displayed the second gray mass, then began to twirl his knife absent-mindedly.

"So... so you think..."

"Precisely! There is something to this, I am thinking. These holes must be the problem, no?"

"Yes"

"But, it is unfortunate that two men is not enough to draw any sort of conclusion, and so many of my patients are so young and fit, you see. And so I fear that I may not produce results until many years from now."

Tobias eyed the knife and inched toward the rear wall of the room. "I fear..."

"Yes, yes, Tobias. This thought is terrible. Who could be patient when there are people suffering?"

"I... wife.... Charle..." Tobias cried as Monsieur Broca plunged the knife into his throat. His hands flailed, slowing gradually until they fell to the floor. A final gurgle bubbled from Tobias' slit throat.

"I know, Tobias, but there are lives to save and reputations to be made."