He came to the point without preamble, asking her whether she was the owner of a Mannlicher-Schonauer .275 rifle, registered as No. 668942.
"I'm sure I don't know!" replied Ermyntrude. "Though, now you come to mention it, I believe one of my first husband's rifles was a Mannlicher — whatever-it-is. Mind you, it wasn't his best gun! A Rigby, that's what he used to swear by, and he had another gun, too, but that was only for elephants. My first husband was a big game shooter."
"When he died, madam, you kept his guns?"
"Of course I kept his guns! Not that they were any use to me, but I'd as soon have sold his hairbrushes!" said Ermyntrude, becoming a little intense. "Everything in the gun-room's kept just as he used to have it. Or rather," she added, "it was till I married Mr. Carter, and he started messing about with things."
"Are the late Mr. Fanshawe's guns kept under lock and key, madam?"
"The gun-room isn't locked, if that's what you mean. Of course, I know very well it ought to be, but that was Mr. Carter all over! He never locked anything, without he went and lost the key, and it was a miracle when he put anything away, what's more!"
"Then anyone could have had access to your first husband's rifles?"
She stared at him. "They're in a glass case. The key's generally in the lock. What would anyone want with them? Look here, what are you driving at?"
"A Mannlicher-Schonauer - .275 rifle, No. 668942, was found yesterday in the shrubbery across the stream, madam."
Ermyntrude gave a gasp, and rose from her chair with quite surprising agility, and stalked to the door. "Come along!" she said over her shoulder, and led the Inspector to the gun-room.