“Around four o’clock you and Hawthorne had discussed shooting a hawk?”
“The hawk was there, flying around, over towards the woods. Ames had told me it had got a chicken the day before, and I told Noel. He wanted to shoot it. He liked to shoot things. I don’t. I found Ames and told him to give Noel his shotgun, and Noel went off with it. I went the other way, around back of the sheds, to let off steam splitting wood.”
“Did Hawthorne himself suggest shooting the hawk? Or did you suggest it to get rid of him?”
“He suggested it.” Dunn was frowning. “See here. You’d better put me at the end of the list. I’m aware what you’re capable of, and I don’t swagger. It wouldn’t be in me to put you on this as a finesse if my own heel was exposed.”
“But it’s my job now, Mr. Dunn. Were others present when the hawk was discussed?”
“Yes, we were having tea on the lawn. Most of us.”
“Then I can ask them. Even if there were something to fish out of you, I doubt if I could do it; you’ve had long training. Do you know of anything that happened that afternoon that you think might help me? Anything at all?”
“No. Nothing is in my mind now.”
“Do you suspect anyone of murdering Hawthorne?”
“Yes, I suspect his wife. His widow.”