“How was it done?”
“Don’t know, sir. Chief didn’t say.”
After a few brief observations on the inclemency of the weather, conversation waned between the two men, and they followed the example of their companions, and sat watching with a depressed air the rain-swept streets and the hurrying foot passengers on the wet pavements. All five were annoyed at being called out, as all were tired and had been looking forward to an evening of relaxation at their homes.
They made a quick run, reaching the station in a very few minutes. There a constable identified the inspector.
“They’ve taken the taxi round to the carrier’s yard at the west side of the station, sir,” he said to Willis. “If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you the way.”
The officer led them to an enclosed and partially roofed area at the back of the parcels office, where the vans from the shops unloaded their traffic. In a corner under the roof and surrounded by a little knot of men stood a taxi-cab. As Willis and his companions approached, a sergeant of police separated himself from the others and came forward.
“We have touched nothing, sir,” he announced. “When we found the man was dead we didn’t even move the body.”
Willis nodded.
“Quite right, sergeant. It’s murder, I suppose?”
“Looks like it, sir. The man was shot.”