There came to police headquarters a tall, ruddy-skinned man of middle age. He wore a suit which was evidently not made for him, and he seemed a little depressed by his surroundings.
“I have an appointment with Inspector Carver,” he said and passed a letter across the desk to the police clerk, who read it and nodded.
“Inspector Carver is expecting you,” he said and called a messenger.
Carver looked round as the door opened and viewed his caller with a speculative eye. Then he jumped up.
“Of course!” he said. “Sit down please.”
“I hope—” began the man, “there isn’t going to be any trouble.”
“Not for you,” said Carver, “but I rather fancy there is trouble coming for somebody.”
The messenger closed the door and left them together.
Half an hour later Inspector Carver telephoned for the
