He stepped back guiltily and collided with a chair, almost knocking it to the floor. Percy Reade admired the detective's coolness. Simply carrying the hatbox had induced feelings of nausea in the stationmaster and he could not possibly have handled its contents with his bare hands. Colbeck seemed to have no qualms. He was examining the head from all angles as if it were a bronze bust of a Roman emperor rather than part of a human being.

'You've obviously done this before,' remarked Reade.

'Not at all,' said Colbeck, coming to the end of his scrutiny. 'As a matter of fact, this is my first severed head. I am, however, all too accustomed to looking at dead bodies, many of them, alas, hideously mutilated.'

'What happens next, Inspector?'

'We'll do all we can to unite this fellow with his torso.'

'How on earth can you do that when you have no clues?'

'We have two important ones right here,' said Colbeck, lowering the head carefully back into its box. 'We know from the ticket that this began its journey at Euston station and we may be able to find the porter who loaded it onto the train. Failing that, we'll begin our enquiries in Jermyn Street.'

'Why there?'

'Clearly, you didn't study the inside of the hatbox. The name of a milliner is sewn into the silk padding on the underside of the lid.' He pointed to the gold thread. 'I should imagine he will be very upset to learn to what use the box has been put.' He closed the lid. 'Now, Mr Hibbert,' he said, straightening up, 'we come to you.'

'I didn't mean to do it, Inspector,' said the porter defensively.

'Dropping a trunk onto a hatbox is not a criminal offence.'

'Mr Fagge said that I ought to be arrested.'

'Well, Mr Fagge is not here any longer so why don't you tell me, in your own words, exactly what happened?'

Hibbert was reassured by Colbeck's friendly tone and courteous manner. Clearing his throat, the porter licked his lips.