Revolvers go off accidentally; and when they have gone off,
people lose their heads and run away, fearing that their story
will not be believed. Nevertheless, when people run away,
whether innocently or guiltily, one can't help wondering which
way they went.
"I suppose this way," said Antony aloud, looking out of the
window.
"Who?" said Cayley stubbornly.
"Well, whoever it was," said Antony, smiling to himself. "The
murderer. Or, let us say, the man who locked the door after
Robert Ablett was killed."
"I wonder."
"Well, how else could he have got away? He didn't go by the
windows in the next room, because they were shut."
"Isn't that rather odd?"
"Well, I thought so at first, but--" He pointed to the wall
jutting out on the right. "You see, you're protected from the
rest of the house if you get out here, and you're quite close to
the shrubbery. If you go out at the French windows, I imagine
you're much more visible. All that part of the house--" he waved
his right hand--"the west, well, north-west almost, where the
kitchen parts are--you see, you're hidden from them here.
Pages:
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53