The doctor’s surgery was within walking distance, a rambling house that had been divided into two halves, one for his practice and the other for his living quarters.

Three women were just leaving the surgery as the two men opened the gate and started up the flagstoned walk leading between borders in which flowers were blooming profusely. They noticed the man with Constable Walker straightaway, and Rutledge could all but hear the speculation racing through their minds. He could also imagine their conversation as soon as they were out of earshot.

Walker said, “The tallest of those women was married to one of the Eastfield Company that marched off together to fight the Kaiser. Mrs. Watson. Her husband was killed in the third week of the fighting after they reached the Front.” He opened the surgery door for Rutledge, and added, “The rest led charmed lives for nearly five months before George Hopkins bought it.”

“Roper had a bad leg?”

“Machine gun. He could hardly walk when he came home, but you’d not have known it now. Barely a limp. Pierce lost his to gangrene from a foot wound. He wasn’t fitted with a new limb until last year. It took that long for the stump to heal. Jeffers was shot in the chest but lived.”

The surgery door led into a cramped waiting room, empty now. Dr. Gooding was coming out of his office and looked up as the two men entered.

“Good afternoon, Constable,” he said to Walker. “I was just going through to my luncheon. We’re running late today.” He was a man of slender build, with a receding hairline and a strong jaw.

“This is Inspector Rutledge, sir. From Scotland Yard. He’d like to speak to you about the dead men.”

Gooding cast a glance at the clock sitting on the mantelpiece but said, “Yes, of course.”

He took them into his office and gestured to the chairs opposite his desk. Sitting down again, he reached for a sheaf of papers set to one side of the blotter, passing them to Rutledge. “These are my reports on the bodies. Constable Walker has copies.”

Rutledge glanced through them. “All three men were garroted? And all three had the army discs in their mouths?”

“Yes, that’s correct. To tell you the truth, I’d never seen a case of garroting before, but of course I had no difficulty in recognizing at once what had been done when I examined Jeffers. My guess is that something like piano wire must have been used. It was strong, strong enough to cut through the flesh of the throat in each case, causing bleeding. I should think a man wielded it. Jeffers was inebriated, but he would not have been easy to kill. And the same goes for Roper, despite his leg. A woman couldn’t have held on to the garrote, given the struggles of the three men. It was well after dark when they were attacked. And each was in a place where his death wasn’t likely to be witnessed. Jeffers along the road on the outskirts of Eastfield, Roper in his barn, and of course Pierce in the main brewery.”