The Inspector frowned, then smiled grimly.
"We close at six. Those who stay later—spend the night in there." He indicated the door leading to the cells.
Stamford's scowl drifted into a shamefaced shaking of the head.
"You don't seem to realise that your third in command was foully murdered, almost under your very nose! You don't——"
"Listen, Stamford! Did you ever hear of a murdered Mounted Policeman unavenged? Did you ever know the Mounted Police to drop the chase—even for shooting an antelope out of season?"
"But you've done nothing—nothing."
"We don't report to the Journal—it's not in the regulations."
"And there's Billy Windover," Stamford stormed on. "You haven't discovered his murderer."
"Wrap them in the same parcel——" The Inspector stopped abruptly.
"But I thought you suspected Cockney Aikens."