“Yesterday afternoon, about four o'clock,” replied Braddock.
“Then, from the condition of the body”—the doctor felt the dead flesh—“he must have been murdered last night. H'm! With your permission, Painter, I'll examine the corpse.”
The constable shook his head. “Better wait, sir, until the inspector comes,” he said in his unintelligent way. “Poor Sid! Why, I knew him. He was at school with me, and now he's dead. Who killed him?”
None of his listeners could answer this question.
H2 anchor