II
An unemotional voice said, “Crowdean Police Station.”
“Can I speak to Detective Inspector¹ Hardcastle?”
The voice said cautiously:
“I don’t know whether he is here. Who is speaking?”
“Tell him it’s Colin Lamb.”
“Just a moment, please.”
I waited. Then Dick Hardcastle’s voice spoke².
“Colin? I didn’t expect you yet awhile. Where are you?”
“Crowdean. I’m actually in Wilbraham Crescent. There’s a man lying dead on the floor ofNumber 19, stabbed I should think. He’s been dead approximately half an hour or so.”
“Who found him. You?”
“No, I was an innocent passerby³. Suddenly a girl came flying out of the house like a bat out ofhell. Nearly knocked me down. She said there was a dead man on the floor and a blind woman wastrampling on him.”
“You’re not having me on, are you?” Dick’s voice asked suspiciously.
“It does sound fantastic, I admit. But the facts seem to be as stated. The blind woman is MissMillicent Pebmarsh who owns the house.”
“And was she trampling⁴ on the dead man?”
“Not in the sense you mean it. It seems that being blind she just didn’t know he was there.”
“I’ll set the machinery⁵ in motion. Wait for me there. What have you done with the girl?”
“Miss Pebmarsh is making her a cup of tea.”
Dick’s comment was that it all sounded very cosy⁶.

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