Roper retired; to return in a few minutes with a camera.
“I think it would be better for you, Baddeley,” declared the doctor, “if you had a good look round before I make my examination. I can do nothing and the cause of death is pretty obvious. The murderer knew his business, too! A blow at that part of the spinal column—effective—and to all intents and purposes instantaneous.”
“Very well, Doctor. These gentlemen—Sir Charles?” he queried.
“My son, my son-in-law, Captain Arkwright, Mr. Bathurst and Mr. Cunningham, guests and very old friends.”
“I understand. All staying here, I presume?”
I took a look at him, carefully. Anthony, I observed, was following my example.
We saw a man of soldierly bearing, dark hair, closely cut to the head, a small moustache neatly trimmed, two steady blue eyes, and an alert and thoroughly business-like manner that completed a make-up which I was convinced belonged to one who would make no mean opponent for the cleverest criminal.
“Is the body exactly as found?”
“Exactly,” replied Sir Charles.
“Who found him?”