"I beg your pardon?" Stannard was obviously surprised.
"I said a while ago," Masters told him smoothly, "that I'd like a word with you. If you don't mind, I'd like to take a statement from you as to what happened in the execution shed last night." '
The other stood motionless, a vertical line between his black eyebrows.
"If memory serves, Inspector, I gave a statement to the police this morning."
"Yes, sir. But that was to Inspector Drake. County Constabulary."
"True. And what then?"
'The Chief Constable's Office—" Masters was suave—"have got in touch with our people in London. I’m in charge of the case, you see. Now, about that statement…"
Stannard pushed back his cuff and glanced at his wrist-watch.-
It's rather late, Inspector."
"I'm afraid I've got to insist, Mr. Stannard."