“If, as I understand, sir, Mr. Harborough wishes to make a statement, which, I suppose, will amount to giving evidence about his movements on the morning of Guy Markenmore’s death,” he said, “I should like to suggest that before you hear it you should take the evidence of Detective-Sergeant Blick, who has had this case in hand since the discovery of the crime. Sergeant Blick will produce some evidence on which I should like to examine Mr. Harborough. I submit that this course will be most convenient to everybody, especially to Mr. Harborough himself and to his legal adviser.”
The Coroner looked at Walkinshaw, who bowed his assent.
“Let us have Detective-Sergeant Blick, then,” said the Coroner.
In company with the rest of the people there he looked with some curiosity at the detective as he stepped into the box. Most of the folk present in that room had never seen a detective in their lives. Blick, they thought, was certainly not at all like what they had conceived men of his calling to be. He might be thirty years old, but he looked younger. He had a somewhat cherubic, boyish countenance, rendered more juvenile still by the fact that he was clean-shaven; he was very smartly and fashionably dressed in a blue serge suit, traversed by thin lines of a lighter blue; his linen and neck-wear proclaimed him a bit of a dandy; his carefully brushed hair, golden in hue, matched admirably with the pretty glow of his cheeks; his bright blue eyes, keen and alert, were as striking as the firm lines of his lips and the square, determined chin beneath them. Altogether, Blick looked more like a smart young army officer than a policeman, and the people who had gained their notions of detectives from sentimental fiction began to feel that somebody had deceived them.
Blick and the barrister confronted each other with glances of mutual understanding.
“Detective-Sergeant Charles Blick, of the Criminal Investigation Department, New Scotland Yard, I believe,” said the barrister.
“I am,” answered Blick.
“Tell the Court how you came to be associated with this case.”
“I came down to Selcaster some days ago, in connection with another matter,” said Blick. “I had to remain in the city—at the Mitre Hotel. On Tuesday morning, very early, the Chief Constable sent an officer of his force to me, saying that he had just received news of a probable murder at a place close by, and asking me to dress and go with him. I drove with him, the police-surgeon, and a constable, to Markenmore Hollow. There we found the dead body of a man whom some of those present recognized as Mr. Guy Markenmore. The Chief Constable requested me to take charge of matters; since then he has obtained permission from my Department for me to take this case in hand.”
“With a view of finding the murderer?”