Adders on the Heath

headlamps. At the back of this solid block was the Superintendent's private house and here the car drew up. Richardson was taken into the dining-room and given whisky and soda and a plate of biscuits and cheese. The Superintendent made no reference to the dead man in the tent, but drank whisky with his guest and then smoked placidly while Richardson, who found himself almost startlingly hungry, played havoc with the food provided.

The young man had brought nothing with him from his camp, but, when he was shown up to the spare room which had been promised him, he found pyjamas laid out on the small single bed and the Superintendent, indicating these, observed that they might be a bit on the large side but would be better than nothing. He then showed him the bathroom and an electric razor and wished him good night, adding that breakfast would be served at half-past seven. Richardson was aware, ten minutes later, that a car drove off, but after that he slept until a thumping on the door caused him to accept the fact, at first incredulously, that it was morning and time to get up.

The Superintendent's wife served breakfast. It was a misty morning, but this, she said, would soon clear. The Superintendent himself did not appear and Richardson, who had expected to be grilled as soon as breakfast was over, was not certain whether to be thankful or apprehensive when the wife observed that Jim would find it cold up there on the common.

After breakfast she settled her guest in an armchair by an electric fire and gave him the morning paper. He flicked over the pages to find out whether there was any reference to the dead man in the tent, but soon realised that that piece of news would not yet be public property.

At just after ten the Superintendent returned and Richardson was invited to step over to his office. Although the headlights and the lamp over the door had given him an impression of size, he was surprised to see, in daylight, just how large and uncompromising a building the red-brick police station was.

The Superintendent's office, however, was reassuringly like all other offices. There was an enormous desk with a swivel chair and two telephones, filing cabinets against the walls and an armchair for the visitor. There was a box of cigarettes on the desk and Richardson accepted a cigarette when it was offered and prepared to sell his life dearly.

'Just a point or two, sir,' said the Superintendent, with a geniality which made Richardson's blood run cold. 'First of all, what made you jump to the idea that the man was dead when you found him?'

Of all the questions which Richardson had half-anticipated, this was the biggest surprise and he was extremely hard put to it for an answer. He stared at the desk and then said,

'I don't really know, except that he didn't seem to be breathing. What I can't make out is how a dying man would have known that my tent was there-that's one thing-and then, well, the lights from that house, you know. You'd have thought that if he felt bad he'd have made for them in the hope that they would phone a doctor or something. So I'm beginning to conclude that he might have been dumped on me, as I had a feeling you yourself thought last night. I didn't think all this out at the time. It's what I've been thinking since; so I don't suppose I've answered your question.' (What did all this sound like, he wondered, and what had happened to Colnbrook's body?)

'Near enough, sir, near enough. Those ideas were in your subconscious mind, no doubt. All you've done is to bring them forward, so to speak, and rationalise them. It's the usual way, we find,' said the Superintendent.

Richardson was dumbfounded by this reasoning. He swallowed, and then said that anything he could do...

The Superintendent gave him a heavy, paternal smile.

'All in good time, sir. We'll be keeping the tabs on you, of course. Well, I think that's all for the present. You can get the bus back to the level crossing from here. You'll know your way from there. We've had to shift your tent a couple of hundred yards away from where you pitched it because we've cordoned off an area around the dead man and you'll find some of my men here and there on the heath, but you'll see your camp all right. Actually, where you'd pitched there'd be quite a bit of bog if we had much rain. You'll be better off on the higher ground where we've put you. How long did you think of staying in the Forest?'

'About another fortnight. A pal is joining me, but he doesn't want to camp, so we're transferring to the New Forest Hunt Hotel.'

'Does the hotel know they're to expect you?'

'Oh, yes, of course. I booked the rooms a couple of months ago. I've been having all my meals there, anyway. I mean, the hotel people know I exist.'

'I see. Well, I don't suppose I'll need you again, sir, until the inquest.'

'So I'm by no means out of the wood!'

'Come, sir, there's not the slightest need for alarm. Even if we are compelled to think of this as foul play, you must remember that, so long as a man is innocent, he has nothing to fear from the police.'

'Oh? What about Timothy Thingummy?'

'That, sir,' said the Superintendent, 'was in London. We don't make mistakes in these parts. We can't afford to. We get little experience of murders around here. They have rarity value, if you take me, and we don't want to waste what is rare, now do we? Besides, sir, it is not at all conclusive that a mistake was made in the particular case which you cite. All the same, we shall exercise every care, you may be sure.'

'I jolly well hope so!'

The Superintendent looked concerned.

'You seem to be in a jumpy state, sir. Do you feel quite well?'

'Yes, of course, but I'm not used to finding corpses in my tent.'

There has to be a first time for everything, sir. Now, not to worry. You're quite sure you didn't know the dead man?'

'Good heavens, of course I didn't! What next?'

'We have to wait on Providence to learn that, sir. Well, we shall be seeing you at the inquest.'