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Updated: May 17, 2025
"I have just arrived from Crossleys with Inspector Gatton. He requests me to ask you to meet him by the police-box at the corner of the high street immediately." "Very good," I said. "I will come." "And," continued the voice "could you spare Coates with the car for an hour?" "Certainly," I replied. "For what do you want him?"
Ere I could turn: "Hi! Mr. Addison!" hailed a voice. I stopped, turned round, and there was Gatton leaning out of the car and staring towards me through the deepening dusk. "Why, Gatton!" I said, walking up to him "I waited more than ten minutes for you, and then gave it up." "Waited for me?" "Yes, by the police-box."
Except for a dejected-looking object, obviously a member of the tramp fraternity, who passed us near the gate of the old chapel, we met never a soul from the time that we left the police-box until the moment when the high brick wall guarding the Red House came into view beyond a line of glistening wet hedgerow. "This is the house, constable," I said. "The garage is beyond the main entrance."
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