I live alone now in a small house in Knightsb Centre of London. It's quite near my work. I love in the m but I love my work, too. And so I spend a lot of time in my office. There's always plenty of work to do. On one of those days when I should have been instead of in my office, Detective Chief Inspector La home ne telephoned me. He's the chief detective in a Wimbledon, in South London. We worked together a in number of years ago, and we're still friends. "Hello, Bobby," he said. "It's John here." I smiled. I'm 'Bobby' to only a few people now. It's a short name for Robert, but it's also a friendly name for a British policeman. My friends think it's very funny and very clever, too. "How are you, John?" I said "very well, thank you. Listen, I've got an interesting job here. I need your help again "Oh? Tell me about it." "Can you come out to Wimbledon? A railwayman found the body of a man in the bushes beside the line. He had been badly injured. And he had a bullet in the back of his head." "Do you know who he is?" "Not yet, but I have a feeling that I've seen him before." "A criminal?" "Perhaps. We are investigating that. But if you can come out to Wimbledon today, that would be a great help." "All right. I'll be there in about half an hour.