Of course, I had to make some sort of examination. He was an extremely tall and thin individual. He must have been well over six feet three. He was dark and very cadaverous-looking. In fact, I dont suppose hed ever looked so cadaverous in his life. He was wearing a trench coat.
It wasnt difficult to tell what hed died of. Hed been shot through the back. I found the hole just under the right scrofula, or scalpel what is shoulder-blade, anyway? Oh, clavicle stupid of me well, thats where it was, and the bullet had evidently gone through into the lung. I say evidently, and leave it at that.
There were no papers in his pockets, and no tailors name on his clothes, but there was a note-case, with nine pounds in it. Altogether a most unpleasant business. Of course, it doesnt do to question the workings of Providence, but one couldnt help wishing it hadnt happened. It was just a little mysterious, too er who had killed him. It wasnt likely that the girl had or she wouldnt have been joy-riding about the country with him; and if someone else had murdered him why hadnt she mentioned it? Anyway, she hadnt and shed gone, so one couldnt do anything for the time being. No telephone, of course. I just locked up the garage and went to bed. That was two oclock.
Next morning I woke early, for some reason or other, and it occurred to me as a good idea to go and have a look at things by daylight, and before Mrs. Selston turned up. So I did. The first thing that struck me was that it had snowed heavily during the night, because there were no wheel tracks or footprints, and the second was that Id left the key in the garage door. I opened it and went in. The place was completely empty. No car, no body, no nothing. There was a patch of grease on the floor where Id dropped the candle, otherwise there was nothing to show Id been there before. One of two things must have happened: either some people had come along during the night and taken the car away, or else Id fallen asleep in front of the fire and dreamt the whole thing.
Then I remembered the whisky glasses.
They should still be in the sitting-room. I went back to look, and they were, all three of them. So it hadnt been a dream and the car had been fetched away, but they must have been jolly quiet over it.
The girl had left her glass on the mantel-piece, and it showed several very clearly defined finger-marks. Some were mine, naturally, because Id fetched the glass from the kitchen and poured out the drink for her, but hers, her finger-marks, were clean, and mine were oily, so it was quite easy to tell them apart. It isnt necessary to point out that this glass was very important. Thered evidently been a murder, or something of that kind, and the girl must have known all about it, even if she hadnt actually done it herself, so anything she had left in the way of evidence ought to be handed over to the police; and this was all she had left. So I packed it up with meticulous care in an old biscuit-box out of the larder.
When Mrs. Selston came I settled up with her and came back to Town. Oh, I called on the landlord on the way and told him Id let him know about the bungalow. Then I caught my train, and in due course drove straight to Scotland Yard. I went up and saw my friend there. I produced the glass and asked him if his people could identify the marks. He said: Probably not, but he sent it down to the fingerprint department and asked me where it came from. I said: Never you mind; lets have the identification first. He said: All right.
Theyre awfully quick, these people the clerk was back in three minutes with a file of papers. They knew the girl all right. They told me her name and showed me her photograph; not flattering. Quite an adventurous lady, from all accounts. In the early part of her career shed done time twice for shop-lifting, chiefly in the book department. Then shed what they call taken up with a member of one of those race-gangs one sometimes hears about.
My pal went on to say that thered been a fight between two of these gangs, in the course of which her friend had got shot. Shed managed to get him away in a car, but it had broken down somewhere in Norfolk. So shed left it and the dead man in someones garage, and had started off for Norwich in a lorry. Only she never got there. On the way the lorry had skidded, and both she and the driver a fellow called Williams had been thrown out, and theyd rammed their heads against a brick wall, which everyone knows is a fatal thing to do. At least, it was in their case.
My pal went on to say that thered been a fight between two of these gangs, in the course of which her friend had got shot. Shed managed to get him away in a car, but it had broken down somewhere in Norfolk. So shed left it and the dead man in someones garage, and had started off for Norwich in a lorry. Only she never got there. On the way the lorry had skidded, and both she and the driver a fellow called Williams had been thrown out, and theyd rammed their heads against a brick wall, which everyone knows is a fatal thing to do. At least, it was in their case.