Read Online Detection Unlimited by Georgette Heyer - Free Book Online

admit himself to have been at fault. No one, observing his demeanour as he walked across the lawn towards the oak-tree, would have guessed that this was the first case of its kind which he had attended. A stranger would more readily have supposed that he was a police-surgeon of extensive experience. He nodded to Hobkirk, but favoured Miss Patterdale with a civil good-evening, and a handshake, for she was one of his patients. 'I'm sorry you should have been brought into this,' he said. 'Shocking business! I could scarcely believe it, when young Has well told me what had happened. Almost under the eyes of Miss Warrenby, I understand.'

    He then bent over the corpse, while Miss Patterdale walked away to inspect yet another flower-bed, and the constable respectfully watched him. He glanced up after a brief examination, and said: 'Nothing for me to do here. Instantaneous, of course. Poor fellow!'

    'Yes, sir. How long would you say he's been dead?'

    'Impossible to say with any certainty. More than a quarter of an hour, and not more than an hour. We must bear in mind that the body has been all the time in hot sunshine.'

    These remarks he repeated five minutes later, when a police-car set down at Fox House, Detective-Sergeant Carsethorn, accompanied by a uniformed constable, and two men in plain clothes. The Sergeant asked him whether there was anything else he could tell them about the murder, adding, but without malice, that Dr Rotherhope, who, besides constituting Dr Warcop's chief rival in Bellingham was also the police-surgeon, had been called out to a confinement, and was thus not immediately available.

    Beyond informing the Sergeant that the bullet had entered the skull through the temporal bone, and would be found lodged in the brain, Dr Warcop had nothing more to tell him. It was the Sergeant himself who observed that the shot had not been fired at very close quarters, no powder-burns being discernible.

    By this time Charles had rejoined the group on the lawn. When he saw the Sergeant he was surprised, and said: 'Hallo! You're not the chap who dealt with that pilfering we had at the office. What's become of him?'

    .'Detective-Inspector Thropton, sir. He's away, sick.'

    'He will be fed-up!' remarked Charles. 'Mama says I'm to bring Mavis home with me, Aunt Miriam, for the night.'

    'I shall be requiring to ask Miss Warrenby a few questions, sir, before she leaves the house.'

    'She isn't here: she's at my house,' said Miss Patterdale. 'She came running to me for help, and I left her there, in charge of my niece. Can you interview her there?'

    'Certainly, madam, that will be quite agreeable to me,' said the Sergeant politely. 'The young lady will prefer not to return until the body of the deceased has been removed to the mortuary. Very understandable, I'm sure. The ambulance is on its way.'

    He turned aside to confer with his subordinates, one of whom was preparing to photograph the corpse, issued some low-voiced directions, and then announced that he would like to see Miss Warrenby without further loss of time.

    'What ought we to do about the house?' asked Miss Patterdale. 'There's no one inside, and although I don't suppose anybody would burgle it, we can't leave it like this, can we? At the same time, I don't like to shut the front-door, because I don't think Miss Warrenby had her handbag with her, in which case she won't have the key.'

    'One of my men will be staying here to keep an eye on things, madam,' replied the Sergeant. 'Everything will be quite safe.'

    'Then, if you have no objection, I'll go with you,' said Miss Patterdale. 'Are you coming, Charles?'

    . He nodded, and accompanied her out into the lane. The Sergeant waited until he had skilfully turned his car in the narrow space afforded for this manoeuvre, and then started up the engine of the police-car. Miss Patterdale was thus able to reach Fox Cottage far enough in advance of him to give her time to prepare Mavis's mind for the coming ordeal,