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and back down the hall to where the body of the dead woman lay. He glanced at his watch and cleared his throat. "Look, Inspector, it's going on two o'clock in the morning. I have to report in to both the O.D. and the A.D. What do you want me to tell them?" |
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Dawkins lit another cigarette, eased his way around the body, pushed his hat back off his furrowed forehead and sighed. "Tell them,' he said wearily, "that I'm holding your Colonel Driver for further questioning." |
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Proctor was stunned. "But . . . " he started to sputter. |
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The Inspector inhaled and leaned his weight up against the small wash basin. |
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"On what ground?" Proctor insisted. "You don't even know what happened here. You don't know how she died. You don't have a murder weapon. You don't have a time of death or a motive. As far as I can see, you haven't got anything but a body and a lot of questions." |
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Dawkins' face stumbled through the transition from frown to half-smile. He looked at the young officer and reached into his pocket. "You're right, son. I ain't got any of those things, but I sure have got me a parcel full of hunches. And, don't forget, I've got this." He held up the crumpled piece of paper. |
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