"Yes, you may well look surprised!" said Ermyntrude. "And the young man coming up here, as bold as brass, to blackmail my husband in the middle of a dinner-party, and him having the face to tell me as cool as you please that he'd have to ask me for five hundred to get rid of this Gladys with!"
"Mr. Carter told you what he wanted this sum for?" said the Inspector incredulously.
"Well, he had to, or I wouldn't have given it to him."
The Inspector coughed. "No doubt that was the cause of your disagreement with Mr. Carter, madam?"
"Of course it was!" replied Ermyntrude. "Well, I ask you, wouldn't you be a bit upset if you found that your husband was carrying on like a Mormon all over the town, and expecting you to provide for a pack of - well, I don't want to be coarse, so we'll leave it at that!"
The Inspector was staring at her. "Yes, madam, I'm bound to say I would. But - but - did you tell Mr. Carter you would give him this money?"
"Well, what else was I to do?" demanded Ermyntrude. "Faults I may have, and I don't deny it, but thank God no one's ever said I was mean!"
A new train of thought had been set up in the Inspector's mind. He said in a suspiciously mild voice: "I don't think I need to ask you any more questions at present, madam, except what you were doing at the time of Mr. Carter's death - just a matter of routine!" he added, perceiving a spark in Ermyntrude's eye.
"How do I know when he died? What are you trying to get at?"
Judging from the evidence I've heard so far, madam, and the time of Mr. White's phone call to the police station, Mr. Carter was shot at about five minutes to five."