CHAPTER 16

AT HALF past nine that night Dick Martin’s car pulled up by the side of the road half a mile short of Gallows Cottage, and, dimming his lights, he sat down to wait for the arrival of the police car. He heard the whir of it long before its bright headlamps came into sight, and, starting up his engine, he waited for it to fly past before he followed. The car ahead slowed and turned abruptly into the drive, Dick’s machine immediately behind. By the light of his headlamps he saw that the hole under the hedge had been f…