“My God,” I whispered, “who was it? What was it? Where did it come from?”
“As well ask where the shot came from, Knox. Out amongst all those trees, with a house that might have been built for a sounding-board, who could presume to say where either came from? One thing we know, that the shot came from the south.”
He leaned upon a corner of the table, staring at me intently.
“From the south?” I echoed.
Harley glanced in the direction of the open door.
“Presently,” he said, “we shall have to tell Aylesbury everything that we know. After all, he represents the law; but unless we can get Inspector Wessex down from Scotland Yard, I foresee a miscarriage of justice. Colonel Menendez lay on his face, and the line made by his recumbent body pointed almost directly toward
”I nodded, watching him.
“I know, Harley—toward the Guest House.”
Paul Harley inclined his head, grimly.
“The first light which we saw,” he continued, “was in a window of the Guest House. It may have had no significance. Awakened by the sound of a rifle-shot near by, any one would naturally get up.”
“And having decided to come downstairs and investigate,” I continued, “would naturally light a lamp.”
“Quite so.” He stared at me very hard. “Yet,” he said, “unless Mr. Colin Camber can produce an alibi I foresee a very stormy time for him.”
“So do I, Harley. A deadly hatred existed between these two men, and probably this horrible deed was done on the spur of the moment. It is of his poor little