About eleven o’clock on the night of Monday, May 12, 1914, Marshall Allerdyke, a bachelor of forty, a man of great mental and physical activity, well known in Bradford as a highly successful manufacturer of dress goods, alighted at the Central Station in that city from an express which had just arrived from Manchester, where he had spent the day on business. He had scarcely set foot on the platform when he was confronted by his chauffeur, a young man in a neat dark-green livery, who took his master’s travelling rug in one hand, while with the other he held out an envelope. The housekeeper said I was to give you that as soon as you got in, sir, he announced. There’s a telegram in it that came at four o’clock this afternoon – she couldn’t send it on, because she didn’t know exactly where it would find you in Manchester.
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