The police station was on the opposite side of the square. Sergeant Gubbins was behind the door marked PRIVATE, and Mr. Amberley walked in without troubling the constable on duty to announce him.
The sergeant looked up austerely but broke into a smile when he saw who was his visitor. "Evening, Mr. Amberley. Anything new?"
Amberley had no answering smile for him. "Sergeant, instruct that constable outside to ring up all surrounding police stations to stop and search a blue Vauxhall limousine, number PV 80496."
The sergeant knew his Mr. Amberley. He did not stop to ask questions, but got up and went to the door and repeated the order to the constable in the outer room. Then he turned and said: "What's happened, sir?"
"The girl's been kidnapped. Can you come with me at once?"
The sergeant stared. "Good Lord, sir!" he ejaculated. "Kidnapped? Where's Tucker?"
"At the cottage. Someone knocked him out. He saw nothing, heard nothing. My only consolation is that he's feeling something. Are you coming:
"Half a moment, sir, and I'm with you," said the sergeant, and pushed through into the outer room and conferred briefly with the constable, who was already sending out the message. By the time he had finished and had got his helmet and a revolver, Amberley had left the station and recrossed the square to the garage.
The sergeant followed him and climbed into the car while Amberley was paying for his petrol. As Amberley put his foot on the self-starter he asked where they were going.
"I don't know," replied Amberley, and swept round the square and out of it to the crossroads above the Boar's Head.