"Urn," said the colonel doubtfully. "Um. Yes. What is it?"
"Will you step up to the chief inspector's office, sir?
The chief inspector understands you were waiting down here…"
"The chief inspector? What does he want?"
"Couldn't say, sir."
The bishop narrowed his eyes. "I venture to predict," he said, "that something has happened. Come along; well all go. It's quite all right, constable. I myself have an appointment with Chief Inspector Hadley." ' Young Donovan manifested a strong reluctance to go, but he could not stand up under his father's eye. The constable led them down Derby Street, into the courtyard where the dark-blue police cars stand under the arches, and into the echoing brick building which had the general appearance and smell of a schoolhouse.
In Hadley's unpretentious room on the second floor, the morning sunlight was full of dust motes, and a noise of traffic floated up from the Embankment through the open windows. Behind a flat-topped desk, Donovan saw a compact man, quietly dressed, with cool watchful eyes, a clipped moustache, and hair the color of dull steel. His hands were folded placidly, but there was an unpleasant twist to his mouth as he looked at them. The receiver of the telephone had been detached from its hook and stood on the desk at his elbow. In a chair near by, Dr. Fell was scowling and poking at the carpet with his stick.
The bishop cleared his throat.
"Mr. Hadley?" he inquired. "Allow me to introduce myself. I am—"
"Colonel Standish?" said Hadley, looking at that fussed gentleman. "There is a phone message for you. I took down its contents, but perhaps you had better speak to the inspector yourself… "