“Bad concussion, sir. Skull not fractured. No serious spinal injury. Two ribs fractured. Looks to me more like a fall than anything else. Fall out of window or something of that sort.”
“Yes. I agree. And the missin’ little finger?”
“I can’t account for that at all.”
“No. Quite bafflin’. Was the finger brought in?”
“No. They couldn’t find it, I’m told.”
“Curiouser and curiouser. What about his clothes?”
“I couldn’t see anything to help in them. I’ll show you.”
The clothes Garner had worn were of Sunday respectability - a black jacket and striped trousers. They were dusty, the cloth had been grazed in several places, and the trousers were torn. “All that fits in with a fall or a running - down case,” the doctor remarked.
“As you say,” Reggie murmured. “And his hat?”
“No hat brought in. They didn’t find that either.”
“Well, well. What they didn’t find seems to be the evidence,” Reggie murmured. “Now we’ll talk to Inspector Underwood.”
He was summoned to the doctor’s room. Reggie contemplated him with a slight, ironic smile. “Medical opinions in perfect agreement. Underwood. Serious concussion from injury to skull above right ear. Prospect of recovery - good. Other minor injuries. Probable cause - fall from a height, possibly running down by a car, or possibly” - he glanced at the doctor - “possibly bein’ knocked about by man - power, what?”
“It is possible,” the doctor agreed reluctantly. “I should hardly think so, Mr. Fortune.”
“No. Injuries complicated for that. Rather resemblin’ effects of fall. However. One injury not accounted for by any of these theories - left little finger torn away by violence. How that happened, quite obscure.” His smile was more definitely ironical. “Is the detective intelligence satisfied?”
“That’s all right, sir,” said Underwood cheerfully. “As far as it goes. Now you’d like to see the superintendent, wouldn’t you?”
“Yes, I should. You’re bein’ impudent. I suppose you know that.”
“Beg your pardon, sir. Sorry you take it that way.” Underwood got into a police car with him. “Superintendent Bell said he’d be glad to hear what you’d make of it. He’d never met a case like it.”
“Did he? He was laughin’ at you,” Reggie murmured. “You’re all bein’ very facetious.”
“Are we?” Underwood turned to peer at him through the dark. “I didn’t know it, sir. Where do you suppose we found this chap Garner?”
“No medical evidence,” said Reggie. “However. I shouldn’t wonder if you found him behind his shop.”
Underwood made a profane exclamation. “I don’t know how you got to that, Mr. Fortune.”
“The little finger,” Reggie murmured.
“I don’t know what you mean?” Underwood gasped.
“No. You’re quite young. Also, you haven’t inspected the Garner shop. How did you find him?”
“There’s been a fire in his shop - -”
“Oh, my hat!” Reggie murmured. “Another fire. Go on.”
“Constable saw smoke; gave the alarm; fire brigade came. This chap Garner was found in the road at the back, like you’ve seen him. They’d got the fire under by the time we had the news. The superintendent’s going through the premises.”
In the main road, the car was stopped by a policeman diverting traffic. They went on afoot, through a small crowd and a police cordon, past fire engines, to Garner’s store. Hoses lay along the pavement, doors had been broken in, some windows were gone, but the building stood.
Underwood spoke to a fire - brigade officer, and a fireman was sent in to find Superintendent Bell. His square face, sweating and dirty, appeared in the mingling light of dawn and the street lamps. “Hallo, sir. Here we are. Well, what did you make of Garner?”
“Concussion. Probably from fall.”
