It took fewer than five minutes for the man to find the proper entry, and he wrote the name on a sheet of paper in a bold, clear hand. Even upside down, Rutledge could read the name: Charles Henry. It was what he’d remembered from the first visit.

Below were the rest of the details. 21 June 1908. Grandfather East Anglia, dug up in garden. Not definite when found.

1908. Three years after the murder of the man found at Stonehenge, Rutledge thought. But—on the summer solstice. Coincidence?

Rutledge thanked him, and after an exchange about the greatcoat that the proprietor had been preparing for sale, he left.

Walker said as he came through the shop door, “Were you buying identity discs?”

Rutledge realized that the constable was quite serious, and answered him in the same vein. “I’d asked if there were any for sale. I was told that he didn’t carry any because there was no call for them.”

“Too bad. It would have made our work easier.” Walker sighed. “We’ve not made much progress, on the whole. It’s mostly finding out what isn’t there, like looking for trouble and finding none. And then trouble turns up on the doorstep.”

It was true. But so far, there hadn’t been any other deaths. And that in itself was progress of a sort.

When they drove into Eastfield half an hour later, Walker said, “Who, pray, is that?”

A man was standing in front of the police station, a grim expression on his face.

Rutledge took one look, and swore.

“You know him?” the constable asked, surprised.

“Yes. And I have a feeling I know why he’s here.”

Instead of leaving his motorcar in the hotel yard, he drove the short distance to the police station and drew up there.

Rutledge got out but stood by the motorcar’s door.

“Inspector Mickelson,” he said in greeting.

Mickelson made no effort to return the greeting. “I’ve come to relieve you,” he said coldly. “Officially. There have been complaints about your conduct. Chief Superintendent Bowles assured the Chief Constable that these would be taken seriously, and you’d be withdrawn before the day is out. That was this morning. And as you can see, I am here.” He turned to Constable Walker. “And you are?”

Walker gave his name, and looked from one man to the other. “I don’t quite understand why Inspector Rutledge has been replaced. Misconduct, sir? Of what sort?”

“That’s a matter between the Chief Constable and Scotland Yard.” Turning to Rutledge, he added, “Your orders are to return to London immediately.”

Rutledge said, “I’ve several matters that need my attention first.”