White, the simple butler once more, introduced us.
'This is Mr Burns, one of the masters at the school,' he said, and removed himself from the scene. There never was a man like White for knowing his place when he played the butler.
The inspector looked at me sharply. The constable gazed into space.
'H'm!' said the inspector.
Mentally I had named them Bones and Johnson. I do not know why, except that they seemed to deserve it.
'You telephoned for us,' said Bones accusingly.
'We did.'
'What's the trouble? What—got your notebook?—has been happening?'
Johnson removed his gaze from the middle distance and produced a notebook.
'At about half past five—' I began.