A single candle burned in an upstairs window when Watters knocked on the door.
"Who"s there?" The voice was loud and masculine.
"Sergeant George Watters of the Dundee Police."
"What do you want?"
"Open the door!" Watters knocked again, louder than before.
As the door opened, Watters barged in. "Are you Robert Stanton?"
The man was about thirty, already plump with prosperity, and wearing a long, embroidered nightshirt. "Yes, that"s me."
"Are you a member of the Dundee and Forfarshire Anti-s*****y Alliance?"
"Yes." Stanton"s sallow face coloured. "Why?"
"We have reason to believe that one or more of the members of your society have been involved in fire-raising, issuing threats, and possibly murder." Watters felt some cruel satisfaction when Stanton looked as if he was going to fain
