"All right, put the call through."
The Constable withdrew, Hannasyde picked up the receiver, and waited. In a few moments Neville's voice was wafted to him. "Is that Superintendent Hannasyde? How lovely! Where can I buy a special licence? Have you got any?"
"No," replied Hannasyde. "Not our department. I was just coming up to see you, Mr. Fletcher."
"What, again? But I can't be bothered with murder cases now. I'm going to get married."
"You aren't going to be bothered any more. The case is over, Mr. Fletcher."
"Oh, that's a good thing! We've really had quite enough of it. Where did you say I can buy a special licence?"
"I didn't. Do you want to know who murdered your uncle?"
"No, I want to know who keeps special licences!"
"The Archbishop of Canterbury."
"No, does he really? What fun for me! Thanks so much! Goodbye!"