in the hall, and then Parker appeared with our local inspector and a police constable.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” said the inspector. “I’m terribly sorry for this! A good kind gentleman like Mr. Ackroyd. The butler says it’s murder. No possibility of accident or suicide, doctor?”
“None whatever,” I said.
“Ah! A bad business.”
He came and stood over the body. “Been moved at all?” he asked sharply.
“Beyond making certain that life was extinct—an easy matter—I have not disturbed the body in any way.”
“Ah! And everything points to the murderer having got clear away—for the moment, that is. Now then, let me hear all about it. Who found the body?”