Once again the sandy-haired man paused while the others waited in silence for him to continue.
“It was old Marley right enough (he went on quietly). We walked round the front of the house until we came to the window of his study, and there instinctively we paused. The window was open, and he was sitting at his desk quite motionless. His head had fallen forward, and on his face was a look of dreadful fear.
“For a while none of us moved. Then, with an effort, I threw my leg over the window-sill and entered.
“ ‘He’s quite dead,’ I said, and I felt my voice was shaking. ‘We’d better send for the police.’
“The others nodded, and in silence I picked up the telephone.
“ ‘Mr. Marley’s been killed,’ I heard myself saying. ‘Will you send someone up at once?’
“And then for the first time I noticed the poker lying beside the chair, and saw the back of the old man’s head. It wasn’t a pretty sight, and one of the other men staying in the house—a youngster—turned very white, and went to the window.
“ ‘Pretty obvious how it was done,’ said the stranger, quietly. ‘Well, gentlemen, nothing ought to be touched in this room until the police arrive. I suggest that we should draw the curtains and go somewhere else to wait for them.’
“I don’t think any of us were sorry to fall in with his suggestion. I also don’t think I’ve ever drunk such a large whisky-and-soda as I did a few minutes later. Discovering the body had been bad enough: breaking the news to the two girls was going to be worse.
“It was Joan who met me in the hall—and we stared at one another in silence. Then I nodded my head stupidly.