Report books

A young man was murdered last night up in Rannoch Wood. The
gamekeeper thought at first there'd been a fight among poachers, but
from the dead man's clothes they say he isn't a poacher at all, but a
stranger in this district."
"The body was that of a man, then?" I asked, trying to conceal my utter
bewilderment.
"Yes--about thirty, they say. The police have taken him to the mortuary
at Dumfries, and the detectives are up there now looking at the spot,
they say."
A man! And yet the body I found was that of a woman--that I could swear.
After lunch I took the dog-cart and drove alone into Dumfries.
When I inquired of the police-constable on duty at the town mortuary to
be allowed to view the body of the murdered man, he regarded me, I
thought, with considerable suspicion. My request was an unusual one.
Nevertheless, he took me up a narrow alley, unlocked a door, and I found
myself in the cold, gloomy chamber of death. From a small dingy window
above the light fell upon an object lying upon a large slab of gray
stone and covered with a soiled sheet.


Pages:
101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125