The Inspector had an excellent memory, and he said at once: "Are you the gentleman who arrived at Palings shortly after the murder?"
"Me," said Hugh cheerfully. "Don't ask me if I'm sure I didn't see a suspicious stranger, because I don't think I can bear it! Are you on your way to Palings now? Can I give you a lift? My car's just down the street."
"Well, that's very kind of you, sir. I'll be glad to go along with you. I'll just have a word with my Sergeant, if you'll wait a minute."
Hugh nodded, and watched him walk over to the police-car. "I hoped this wasn't going to happen," he remarked.
"It was bound to. The gentleman from Scotland Yard seems a decent chap, however. How are they, up at Palings?"
"I haven't been there today. They were all right last night. I suppose you've heard that one of the late Fanshawe's rifles was found in the shrubbery?"
"Yes, I'd heard, but I don't know that I set much store by it."
The Inspector, having given his Sergeant certain instructions, came walking back to them, and went off down the street with Hugh to where Hugh's car was parked.
"Nasty case, Inspector," said Hugh, opening the door for him.
"Oh, I don't know about that, sir!" Hemingway replied. "It's got some very classy features, besides showing me a bit of real high life. Foreign princes," he added, as Hugh looked a trifle mystified.