Part 18 (2/2)

Very well, constable, said Stute. He still could not bring himself to enunciate the name.

The next person to be shown in brought us more satisfying information. He was the Vicar of Chopley, a boisterous and professedly busy individual, rubicund and noisy.

Ah, Inspector, he shoutedto Stute, and I silently wondered why parsons so frequently opened their sentences with that sound, young Smith, our village policeman at Chopley, suggested that I should give you a call.

His tones rang through the whole police station. I was thankful to see that Stute treated him with no more ceremony than he had shewn to other informants.

Sit down, Vicar, said Stute.

Fact is, I may be able to help you in this tragic business. Or then again my information may be useless. But I was talking to young Smithhe used to be one of my choirboys, you know; smart young fellow, and I hope he gets on. My personal champions.h.i.+p of Galsworthy against Smith was instantly strengthened. I was telling him that I was returning from Braxham on Wednesday afternoon in my car. . . .

What time would that have been?

Time? Time? Ha! Ha! You ask me what time! You don't know my reputation, Inspector. Most unpunctual fellow in the world. I'm notorious for it. Time means nothing to me.

Still, about?

Well, it must have been between five and six in the afternoon. I was alone at the time. And I happened to see a motor-bike standing by the roadside.

Facing which way?

Towards me. Towards Braxham.

What make?

Ah! There I can help you. Used to be a great motor-cyclist. Had to give it up now, of course. It was a Rudge-Whitworth. The 500 c.c. Special type. I should say fairly new. Well, I thought, the usual thing. Young people, Inspector, young people! And he gave a laugh which I suppose might be described as hearty, but to me sounded almost macabre.

Did you see anyone?

Indeed I did. A young man and a girl. They were walking away from me across the Common. I couldn't see their faces. But the fellow wore one of those black oilskin outfits complete with leggings. And the girl had a white mackintosh. Of course I drove straight on.

Of course. Stute rose before his visitor. Very much obliged to you, Vicar.

Not at all. Delighted. Wish I could tell you more. Tricky job, yours. Ha! Ha! Got the murderer and can't find the murder! Well I never! Good day, Inspector! And he shouted himself out of the building.

It was then about three o'clock, and Stute elected that we should drive at once to the Common and see how the search party had progressed. The Vicar's statement seemed to be an additional indication that hopes of discovery lay in that area. However noisy and disturbing his personality, his information was very much to the point. There was no mistaking his description of the clothes worn by Rogers and Smythe, and the girl. He had even noticed the make of the motor-bike.

There seemed to me to be a good chance that we might be going straight to a solution. I was glad that Stute drove fast and that Constable Smith of Chopley was awaiting us.

I concentrated the search in the part the Vicar showed me, he said.

Found anything?

Quite a lot, answered Smith, with a self-satisfied smile, and began leading us towards a collection of objects laid out on the gra.s.s.

Stute frowned. What on earth's all this? he asked.

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