The Station-Sergeant's voice spoke. He was surprised to hear his own voice so steady, because he really felt a bit shaken, and no wonder. He told his story as matter-of-factly as he could, and the Sergeant, not nearly so phlegmatic, said first: “What?” and then: “In the stocks?” and lastly: “Look here, are you sure he's dead?”
Police-Constable Dickenson was quite sure, and when the Sergeant heard about the blood, and the wound in the back, he stopped making incredulous exclamations and said briefly: “All right. You cut along and see no one touches the body. The Inspector will be down with the ambulance in a couple of shakes.”
“Hold on a minute, Sergeant,” said the Constable, anxious to give all the information he could. “It isn't a stranger. I was able to identify him - it's Mr Vereker.”
“Mr Who?” demanded the Sergeant.
“Vereker. The gentleman from London, as bought Riverside Cottage. You know, Sergeant: comes down week-ends.”
“Oh!” said the Sergeant, rather vaguely. “Not a local man.”
“Not properly speaking,” agreed the Constable. “But what beats me is how he came to be sitting in them stocks at this hour of night. He's in evening-dress, what's more.”
“Well, you get back, and keep your eye on things till the Inspector comes along,” said the Sergeant, and hung up the receiver.
Constable Dickenson heard the click of it, and was rather sorry, because now that he had had time to recover from his first amazement he could see several queer things about the murder, and would have liked to have talked them over with the Sergeant. But there was nothing for it but to do as he was told, so he put his receiver back on the hook, and tiptoed out of the house again to where he had left his bicycle propped against the iron railings.
When he got back to the stocks the dead man was lying in the same position. There was no sign that anyone had been there since the Constable left, and after looking over the ground for a bit with the aid of his torch, in the hope of discovering some clue, or footprint, the Constable leaned his back against the tree, and tried, while waiting for the Inspector to arrive, to puzzle out the problem for himself.