"I'd say he was speaking the truth. Didn't turn a hair when I questioned him. No, nor he didn't deny he'd no use for Carter."
"Well, that's put a query against his name all right," said Hemingway. "There's something about strong, silent men who don't keep anything back, that makes me highly suspicious. Now, what about this Prince? I see he states he arrived at the doctor's house more or less at the time the murder was being committed. Statement corroborated by the doctor's housekeeper. Well, that's very nice, I'm sure. What made her so certain of the time?"
"She hadn't any doubt. When I asked her, she said at once the Prince arrived before five o'clock." "How did she know?"
Inspector Cook looked a little taken aback. "She didn't hesitate. She said the Prince arrived before the doctor had got back from a case he'd been called out to, and it was a few minutes before five."
"That's the kind of airy statement I like to see checked up on," said Hemingway. "Now, I see you've got a query against this Miss Fanshawe. Properly speaking, I don't hold with women in shooting cases, but you never know with some of these modern girls."
"You wouldn't know with her, that's a certainty," said Cook. "She was in the shrubbery at the time the murder was committed, and she had her dog with her. It's one of those Borzois, and a young one, and from what I can make out it's the sort of noisy brute that 'ud bark its head off if it got wind of a stranger being about the place. But the point is the dog didn't bark, nor yet give any sign that he knew anyone was near. Seems to me we've got something there."
"What you might call a highly significant feature of the case," agreed Hemingway. "Could this Fanshawe-dame have got across the stream other than by way of the bridge?"
"Yes, she could," said Cook. "Though I'm bound to say my Sergeant couldn't find any footmarks, which you'd expect to. You see, Inspector, the stream takes a bend to the south about thirty yards beyond that bridge. Anyone crossing it beyond the bend couldn't be seen from the bridge. Get the idea? Well, there's a bit of a pool just round the bend, but it isn't any size, and the stream narrows beyond it, so that I reckon it would be an easy job to jump it. What's more, the young lady wasn't hampered by skirts, because I've discovered that she was wearing slacks at the time. The butler tells me she's devoted to her mother, so that it seems to me it won't do to rule her out of the case."
Hemingway pursed his lips. "If it comes to that, it won't do to rule anyone out, but if you were to think that every girl who's devoted to her mother will up and shoot her stepfather as soon as look at him, you'd soon land yourself in a mess. What about this young fellow, Baker?"
Inspector Cook's account of Percy Baker made Hemingway open his eyes. "You do see life in these parts, don't you?" he remarked. "Talk about the great, wicked city! Well, well, I think I'll go and take a look at the scene of the crime."