Consigning Miss Vereker to the care of the Station Sergeant, the Inspector and the Chief Constable went into consultation and were very soon agreed on the advisability of calling New Scotland Yard at once. The stocks had revealed no finger-prints and the Doctor's autopsy very little more than his first examination.
The Station-Sergeant, who described himself as a rare one for dogs, got on much better with Antonia than the Inspector had done. He spent half an hour arguing with her on the merits of the Airedale over the bull-terrier, and would have been pleased to have continued the argument indefinitely had his work not called him away. She was left in a severe apartment with a couple of Sunday papers and her own thoughts, her only visitor being a young and rather shy constable, who brought her a cup of tea at eleven o'clock.
It was past one o'clock when a touring car drew up outside the Police Station, and a tall, loose-limbed man in the mid-thirties walked in and announced in a pleasant, lazy voice that his name was Carrington.
The Inspector happened to be in the Charge-room at the moment, and he greeted the newcomer with relief, not unmixed with dubiety. Mr Carrington did not look much like a solicitor to him. However, he conducted him to the Chief Constable's office, and duly presented him to Colonel Agnew.
There was another man with the Colonel, a middle aged man with hair slightly grizzled at the temples, and a square, good-humoured face in which a pair of rather deep-set eyes showed a lurking twinkle behind their gravity. The Colonel, having shaken hands with Giles Carrington, turned to introduce this man.
“This is Superintendent Hannasyde, from New Scotland Yard. He has come down to investigate this case, Mr Carrington. I have been putting him in possession of the facts as we know them, but we are a little - er - hampered by your client's refusal to make any sort of statement until she has consulted you.”
Giles shook hands with the Superintendent. “You must forgive me: I haven't the least idea what your case is,” he said frankly. “The message that reached me - on the third tee - was that my cousin, Miss Vereker, wanted me to come down at once to Hanborough Police Station. Has she been getting herself into trouble?”
“Your cousin!” said the Colonel, “I understood -”
“Oh, I am her solicitor as well,” smiled Giles Carrington. “Now what is it all about?”
“I'm afraid it's rather a serious business,” replied the Colonel. “Miss Vereker's determined refusal to assist the police by giving any evidence - But I trust that you will be able to convince her that her present attitude is merely prejudicial to her own interests. Miss Vereker's halfbrother, Mr Carrington, was discovered in the village stocks at Ashleigh Green in the early hours of this morning, dead.”