The other six servants in the house bear no relation to the events of the night of January 6th.
It was at eleven forty-five that the first alarm reached the small local police station, in charge of Sergeant Wilson of the Sussex Constabulary.
Cecil Barker, much excited, had rushed up to the door and pealed furiously upon the bell.

A terrible tragedy had occurred at the Manor House, and John Douglas had been murdered.

That was the breathless burden of his message.

He had hurried back to the house, followed within a few minutes by the police sergeant, who arrived at the scene of the crime a little after twelve o'clock, after taking prompt steps to warn the county authorities that something serious was afoot.
On reaching the Manor House, the sergeant had found the drawbridge down, the windows lighted up, and the whole household in a state of wild confusion and alarm.

The white-faced servants were huddling together in the hall, with the frightened butler wringing his hands in the doorway.
Only Cecil Barker seemed to be master of himself and his emotions; he had opened the door which was nearest to the entrance and he had beckoned to the sergeant to follow him.