“No, sir. I’ve had plenty of other cases to think about, but I’m not likely to forget such a case as that at Cheriton, a case in which I was worsted more completely than I have been in anything for the last ten years. I’ve thought about it a good bit, I can assure you, Mr. Dalbrook.”
“And do you see any new light?”
“No, sir. I stick pretty close to my original opinion. Sir Godfrey Carmichael was murdered by somebody that bore a grudge against him; and there’s a woman at the bottom of it.”
“Why a woman? Might not a man’s hatred be deadly enough to lead to murder?”
“Not unless he was egged on by a woman; or had been jilted by a woman; or was jealous of a woman; or thought he had a woman’s wrongs to avenge.”
“Is that what your experience teaches you, Mr. Churton?”
“Yes, Mr. Dalbrook, that is what my experience teaches me.”
“And you think it was an enemy of Sir Godfrey’s who fired that shot?”
“I do.”
“Do you think the enemy was a woman—the hand that pulled the trigger a woman’s hand?”