"If you're Mr. Dering," said Jones, "you're staying at the Manor. Had you been at Palings long?"
"No, I'd only just arrived there," Hugh responded. "Why?"
"Only that it struck me suddenly that you must have passed close by here on your way from the Manor," explained Jones. "What I mean is, you might have seen someone sneaking out of this blooming shrubbery on to the road."
"Sorry," said Hugh. "I didn't."
"Such questions, Mr. - er - Jones," interposed the doctor, with an air of disgust, "would be better left to the police." He nodded at Hugh. "Good afternoon, Dering. Didn't know you were at home."
"Just on a visit," said Hugh. "Nasty business, this."
"Quite shocking," replied the doctor repressively. "Such a thing has never happened in all the years I've been in practice here. Not a patient of mine, I'm glad to say.
"Well, I think I'll get back to the house," said Hugh, unwilling to appear like an onlooker at a street accident. "You don't want outsiders hanging about."
"Hold on a bit!" said White. "You were one of that shooting-party, yesterday, weren't you?"
"I was, yes. What's that got to do with it?"