CHAPTER THREE
McPake was a man in his late thirties, already turning grey, with sad eyes and baggy, worn clothes. He shook his head. “I never got a proper look at him, Sergeant Watters.”
“Can you tell me anything?” Watters asked. “Was he tall, short, fair-haired, dark-haired? Did he wear a tall hat, a pair of brown boots, a tailed coat, or a military uniform? Anything could help catch this fellow.”
McPake looked even more mournful as he considered the options. “I don’t know, Sergeant. It all happened so quickly.” His face brightened. “He was fast, Sergeant. I’ll tell you that. He was faster than I’ve ever seen a man move before. He seemed to come out of nowhere, leapt on me, threw my watch to the ground and jumped on it.”
“He jumped on it?” Watters said.
“Yes, that’s it,” McPake warme
