Chapter Twenty-NineWhen Major Armitage’s car tore by in the darkness Inspector Williams was very much annoyed. He did not know whose car it was. His attempt to catch sight of the number failed, and his indignation was still hot when he rode into Ledlington.
He got off his bicycle, and spoke to the first policeman he met.
“Did a two-seater pass you here about ten minutes ago? I couldn’t see the make or get the number, but he nearly did me in about a mile down the road. He must have been doing forty.”
“There was a Hillman went out of here at a fair bat. I took the number.”
“That would be him.”
The policeman pulled out a notebook, wet his fingers, turned three pages laboriously, and read out a number which, as the inspector himself afterwards stated, brought him up with a round turn.
“R
