"Certainly not. I know of' many people who have thought for years that it was a pity Mrs. Carter ever married him, of course."
His tone was uncommunicative. The Inspector said: "It's a funny thing, doctor, but I get the impression that you're not being as open with me as I'd like."
"Sorry, I'm afraid there's nothing I can tell you," Chester answered. "I wasn't in Carter's confidence."
He turned to pick up his attache-case from the table, but before he could leave the house, Vicky had entered it, with Hugh Dering behind her.
"Oh, hallo!" Vicky said, mildly surprised to see the Inspector. "Hallo, Maurice! How's Ermyntrude?"
"Not very well. You ought to know that," Chester said, rather sternly.
"Poor sweet, I'm afraid she won't be until this is all over. Why didn't you come to the Inquest? I quite thought you'd be there, though as a matter of fact it turned out to be frightfully stagnant."
"I couldn't see that it concerned me," replied Chester. He nodded to the Inspector, told Vicky briefly not to agitate her mother, and left the house.
"But why is Maurice so curt and unloving?" wondered Vicky. "Did you annoy him, Inspector? And, I say, what are you doing here? Or can't you tell me?"
"Oh, there's no secret about what I'm doing," responded Hemingway. "I'm trying to discover who could have taken that rifle out of the house, and not getting much help either."