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scene that had confronted them some 36 hours earlier. |
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Moments later, Proctor entered the room. He glanced hurriedly around. "I was almost afraid of what I'd find in there," he admitted. "Thank you for taking care of the details, Inspector." |
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Dawkins gave him a quizzical look. |
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"I mean for having someone come in and clean things up." |
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Dawkins' craggy face furrowed into a scowl. "I didn't," he admitted matter-of-factly. "Do you suppose . . . " |
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" . . . the Colonel had to clean it up himself?" Proctor finished. |
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There was an uncomfortable silence while the two men considered the possibility. They went into the kitchen, then gravitated to the stairway leading to the second floor. "Might as well," Dawkins muttered. "It's the only thing left." |
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Ever the officer and gentleman, Proctor announced his intentions with another shout. "Colonel Driver, it's me, Lieutenant Proctor. Inspector Dawkins is with me. We're coming up." |
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The scene in the master bedroom defied description. Harry Preston Driver was sprawled out in the middle of the big bed on his back. Pooled around him was a congealed crimson testimony to the fact that he had once |
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