Explore "Fire in the Thatch" by Edith Caroline Rivett on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
It was nine o’clock before Macdonald saw Bolton. The C.I.D. man had had a lot of telephoning to do and many matters to arrange before he sat down with Bolton’s typed sheets in front of him. Macdonald read the sheets with only one half of his mind: the other was listening for a telephone call. Bolton was worried because he could not get on to Raymond Radcliffe’s trail. The absurdly fat man seemed to have disappeared without anyone noticing him.
“I’ve tried the Exeter stations and the bus station, the taxi hire offices and garages, and none of them report seeing him,” said Bolton.