"Lots of people know it well enough to find their way to the gun-room. Any of Mr. Carter's friends, for instance. Oh dear, it seems to make it worse, somehow, knowing he was shot with one of my first husband's guns! I don't know what to think!"
The Inspector followed her back to the drawing-room, where she sank on to the sofa, looking as though she were on the verge of bursting into tears. This danger was averted by her suddenly becoming aware of his presence. It seemed to annoy her; she said sharply: "Well, what more do you want? I should have thought you'd done enough for one morning!"
"Not quite," replied the Inspector. "I want to ask you a few questions about Mr. Carter's dealing with Percy Baker."
Ermyntrude's sagging shoulders straightened. "I'm not going to discuss it! It's painful enough for me without you dragging it all up and insulting me with it."
"You informed me, madam, that Baker demanded five hundred pounds from Mr. Carter."
"Yes, and if you ask me it was nothing but a try-on! Blackmail, that's my name for it!"
"I think I'd better tell you, madam, to save misunderstanding, that Baker denies that he ever asked for such a sum."
Ermyntrude was quite unimpressed. "You don't say so! I suppose you expected him to admit he'd been blackmailing my husband?"
"I've reason to believe he may have been speaking the truth," said the Inspector slowly.
Ermyntrude's eyes began to kindle wrathfully. "Oh, you have, have you?"