He hesitated, clearing his throat.
"You, Doctor — and you, Mr. Saunders — are aware that I have never had occasion to handle a murder case. I am almost certain to being out of my depth. If everything fails, we shall have to call in Scotland Yard. But among us we may be able to straighten this unfortunate business out."
The sun was high in a clear, warm morning, but the study still held little light. During a long silence they could hear a police constable walking up and down the hall outside. Saunders nodded ponderously. Dr. Fell remained frowning and glum. Rampole was too tired and muddled to pay much attention.
"You — ah — said `murder case,' Sir Benjamin?" the rector inquired.
"I know the Starberth legend, of course," answered the chief constable, nodding. "And I confess I have a theory about it. Perhaps I should not have said `murder case' in the properest sense. Accident we may put out of the question. But I will come to that presently…. Now, Doctor."
He squared himself, drawing in his lips and tightening fingers round his bony knuckles; shifting a little, like a lecturer about to commence on an important subject.
"Now, Doctor. You have told everything up to the time the light went out in the Governor's Room. What happened when you went up to investigate?"
Moodily Dr. Fell poked at the edge of the writing-table with his cane. He rumbled and bit at his moustache.
"I didn't go. Thanks for the compliment, but I couldn't move like these other two. H'mf, no. Better let them tell you."
"Quite…. I believe, Mr. Rampole, that you discovered the body?"