“Top floor, far left window,” Duff murmured as they stepped into the garden.
“I see him,” Watters said. “Anderson?”
“I’m not sure,” Duff closed the gate. “I only caught a glimpse.”
Watters rapped on the door with the weighted end of his cane.
“Sergeant Watters,” Wallace answered the door with a surprisingly friendly smile. “Come away in.”
“Thank you,” Watters stepped inside. “This gentleman is Detective Constable Duff.”
“Constable Duff,” Wallace nodded.
“Mr Wallace,” Duff acknowledged and followed Watters into the entrance hall.
Watters had never seen so much furniture packed into a house. A long case clock dominated the hall, with a polished settle at its side and an occasional table opposite, together with a coat and hat stand.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” a tall, dark-haired wo
