Tony Walker

I mean, my road seemed so very unimportant.

The sort of road one might use if one wanted to avoid people.

If one were driving a stolen car, for instance.

This was quite a thrilling idea.

I thought it might be worth while having another look at the car, so I once more unhooked the key from the kitchen dresser and sallied forth into the snow.

It was as black as pitch, and so still that my candle hardly flickered.

It wasn't a large garage, and the car nearly filled it.

By the bye we'd backed it in so as to make it easy to tow it out again.

the engine i'd already seen so i squeezed past along the wall and opened the door in the body part of the car at least i only turned the handle and the door was pushed open from the inside and something fell out on me it pushed me quite hard and wedged me against the wall

It also knocked the candle out of my hand and left me in the dark, which was a bit of a nuisance.

I wondered what on earth the thing was barging into me like that, so I felt it rather gingerly and found it was a man, a dead man, with a moustache.

He'd evidently been sitting propped up against the door.

I managed to put him back as decorously as possible and shut the door again.

after a lot of grovelling about under the car i found a candle and lighted it and opened the opposite door and switched on the little lamp in the roof and then oh of course i had to make some sort of examination

He was an extremely tall and thin individual.

He must have been well over six feet three.

He was dark and very cadaverous looking.

In fact, I don't suppose he'd ever looked so cadaverous in his life.

He was wearing a trench coat.

It wasn't difficult to tell what he died of.