‘ ‘ ‘  Harry Hawthorn was a small, timid, dark-haired man. Quiet spoken, he loved his peace after a hectic days’ work and to that end had never married. He just could not tolerate the thought of coming home to, what he termed, a squawking baby or a talkative wife.’ 
‘ ‘ ‘  Thus it was that Harry loved his quiet home after a strenuous day at the office and his looked forward to, scotch. At the time this story takes place, this peace became disturbed quite suddenly and unexpectedly when his back neighbour, who, it seems reurned from his work at a similar time,’  began to shout and storm with his wife on a regular daily schedule. These shoutings disturbed Harry terribly.
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry, being one to keep very much to himself, did not know this or, in fact any other of the neighbours about his place. Nor was he one to frequent the local pub a few minutes walk from where he lived. There he just might have come to know the cause of this sudden disturbance in his life.’  The man’s shouts were furious and impossible to ignore even with Harry’s living-room window closed. These yellings would continue some fifteen to twenty minutes at a stretch until, it would appear, the man stomped angrily out of his home. It was strange to Harry that his wife’™s voice was never heard in these shoutings.
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry began to watch from his window, fascinated by the tempestuous nature of these ravings.’  A few weeks before the couple had been as quiet as the rest of Harry’s neighbours. ‘Why,’ Harry thought, ‘the sudden change?’
‘ ‘ ‘  His curiosity aroused, Harry began not only to watch at the time of the shouting but at other times too to try to come to a conclusion as to the cause of the man’s aggravation.’  This curiosity gradually became almost a hobby and after a quick supper he would place a chair close to the open window and watch for anything that may help satisfy this curiosity. Although he could not make out words, the man’s silhouetted arm waving, moving about and angry gesturing made Harry wonder. This neighbour’™s blinds were for ever drawn.
‘ ‘ ‘  After nearly a week of these invariable evening scenes, a sudden silence was as curious to Harry as had been the start of the rows. He continued peering through his window in the hope of catching a glimpse of some cause of the odd behaviour but never did.’  It was on the second day of silence that he realised that he was seeing now only one silhouette moving behind the curtains.
‘ ‘ ‘  Later that evening, in the relative darkness of an autumn evening in a London suburb, the man’s figure emerged from the back door dragging a large, black plastic body-bag.’  Harry paled. He placed a hand to his mouth to stop an involuntary shout. A cold sweat came to his body as the man dragged this to the far corner of his back garden. From a garden shed the man again appeared carrying a spade.’  In a state of complete shock Harry heard the crunch of the spade as the man buried the gruesome bag and its contents.
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry feared and loathed the thought that as a good citizen he was duty bound to report such an act. But the very thought of reporting such goings on to the police made him pale. ‘œI’™ll make it a condition that they would not grag him or his name into the sordid business’™, he thought. But even this did not quite remove his queasiness about the report.’ 
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry slipped into his overcoat. With a feeling as miserable as the weather he made his way to the police station his mind frantic on the possible questions they would inevitably ask. ‘Perhaps some other neighbour had seen the burial. There would then be no need for him to report the act. Perhaps, perhaps…”  but all the while he realised that he had no option but to do his duty.
‘ ‘ ‘  A sergeant accompanied Harry down a long corridor to an inner office.’  When they stopped at a door, Harry asked the sergeant what were the names behind the D.I. on a brass plate before the name Thompson.’  He liked to know the private names too of the people he met.’  He shivered a little involuntarily when the sergeant said: ‘Detective Inspector.’ This answer sent a shudder through him. He was truly fearful of getting involved in such a bloody business.
‘ ‘ ‘  “Come in. Come in,” repeated the Inspector seeing Harry hesitant at the door.’  He waived him to a seat.’  “Mr. Hawthorn, isn’t it? What’s the trouble?”
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry looked fearfully up at Thompson who was as tall as Harry was short.’  They both sat.’  “Well…,” began Harry,’  “it’s like this,” and he told the inspector in as few words as possible the happenings at his back neighbour’s house for the last six days. Shivering, he ended with the burial of a corpse he had witnessed that very evening.’  “I just could not delay in the reporting of the terrible deed. Came strait down to the station. Just one more thing, Inspector. Please keep me out of any reports you make. Out of the whole bad business.”
‘ ‘ ‘  “Alright, Mr. Hawthorn, alright.’  But I must insist on your accompanying us first thing in the morning to the address.’  We shall call for you.”
‘ ‘ ‘  “Well ‘“ if I must,” answered Harry hesitatingly.’  “But you wont have to mention my name or that I was witness to the dreadful scene, will you?’
‘ ‘ ‘  “No.’  That wont be necessary.’  Just accompany us.”
‘ ‘ ‘  “Thank God!”, Harry muttered to himself as he was ushered out of the office and made his way home. ‘What a mess!’  What a mess!’, he kept repeating to himself as he walked in the continuing drizzle to his home.
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry did not sleep that night but fitfully kept turning this way and that in the fearful knowledge that he would be face to face with a murderer the next morning.’  What if the man should recognise him?’  He feared the consequences.’  Feared meeting the man’s eyes. Would he give himself away?’  He shuddered in his half sleep. He could not sleep. There seemed to be no end to those dark hours.
‘ ‘ ‘  It was an unusually pale Harry that sat with Detective Inspector Thompson in the police car as it stopped outside the neighbour’s gate at six-thirty the next morning.’  The name on the gate read, D.H.Livingstone. Harry had a sick feeling as the inspector rang a bell.’  It seemed to clang unnecessarily loud in those quiet hours.
‘ ‘ ‘  After some minutes the man, a dressing gown over his pyjamas, sleepily opened his door.’  He was obviously startled to see a police car, a uniformed sergeant accompanied by two plain clothes’  men on his door-step.
‘ ‘ ‘  Without waiting for an invitation, the inspector stepped over the threshold saying as he did so, “Would you have any objection, Mr. Livingstone to a brief examination of your back garden?”
‘ ‘ ‘  “No…no…, of course not,” exclaimed the man. But his sudden pallor clearly indicated that something was very much amiss. His agitation clearly visible, he led the way to the back door. Harry with the Inspector and sergeant then went to the corner where Harry had seen the man bury the body.
‘ ‘ ‘  At the spot, the ground had recently been disturbed.
‘ ‘ ‘  “Mind opening up this area, Mr Livingstone?”, asked the inspector, turning to the man.
‘ ‘ ‘  Now Livingstone balked.’  “You have a warrant? I object strenuously to being disturbed at such an hour with a ridiculous request.
‘ ‘ ‘  “You may object, but if you refuse you shall place yourself under strong suspicion,” answered D,I,Thompson.
‘ ‘ ‘  “I’ll get the spade,” he said, obviously terribly disconcerted.
‘ ‘ ‘  Not far down into the ground to the startled gaze of Harry and the inspector, the spade ripped the bag’s black plastic exposing a naked foot and part of a shin.’  Thompson continued to work more carefully finally uncovering the whole bag and dragging it to the surface of the lawn.
‘ ‘ ‘  “Open it up,” continued the inspector.’  Harry watched in stupefied horror as the man did so – plainly with much reluctance.
‘ ‘ ‘  To the amazed gaze of all they then found themselves looking down at a man – a full-sized model of a man, that is.’  A dummy just’  as can be seen in any a clothing store!
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry’s immediate feeling was one of intense relief as well as astonishment.
‘ ‘ ‘  “There’s no law forbidding the burial of a model in a man’s own garden is there Inspector?”
‘ ‘ ‘  Of course not,” answered Thompson, but you must admit your act was most suspicious and irregular .”
‘ ‘ ‘  “Well, yes. I suppose so and I’m sorry I put you to all this trouble but this model has become an intolerable bane, burden and affliction in my life. It was bought by my wife and I haven’™t the foggiest notion of why she did this. She’s visiting her sister for a few days and I just had to be rid of it!’  I decided that this would be the best way to be rid of it – while she’s away!” The last words he spoke were almost in hysteria the tears showing clearly.
‘ ‘ ‘  It was an astounded troupe that made their way back to the house only to find to the great consternation of D.H. Livingstone, the figure of his wife framed in the back door!
‘ ‘ ‘  It was here that Harry finally learned the cause of the commotion he had heard for so many evenings.
‘ ‘ ‘  “So this is what you do when my back is turned, David”, she said.
‘ ‘ ‘  “Patricia,” David pleaded, “I just have to know why you insisted on having that diabolical naked moron in the centre of our living room day after day so long. You refused me an explanation’“ just kept quiet to all my ravings.’  Maybe you will tell me now, in front of these people just why you chose to torment me like this? Why/’  Why!”‘  At the last ‘why’ David’s voice rose to almost an hysterical scream.
‘ ‘ ‘  “Alright. I shall tell you now ‘“ and perhaps simply because these gentlemen too will hear also what I have to say.
‘ ‘ ‘  “Your shoutings and ravings were really the only words I could get out of you these past two years.’  You would come home wordlessly, wordlessly eat, wordlessly watch your favourite programs, wordlessly go to bed and wordlessly go to work the next day. I placed the hired model in the living room not only to make you mad and say something ‘“ but to show you what it was like for me to live with a dummy!’  There ‘“ now you know.’  Do you now understand my feelings?”
‘ ‘ ‘  Harry had never seen a man’s expression change so rapidly and dramatically. David went over to stand facing his wife and in front of all said, “I’m truly’  sorry Patricia, I suppose a person can get into a rut without realising it. But why did you have to torment me so?”
‘ ‘ ‘  “I tried. God knows I tried but I just couldn’t get through to you.’  Anyway, David, it seems to have’  worked, didn’t it?”