They're not Gerda Christow's, nor the Savernake's, nor our Veronica's, nor her ladyship's, nor the little dark girl's! They're not even the kitchen maid's-let alone any of the other servants!"

Poirot made condoling noises. The sad voice of Inspector Grange went on:

"So it looks as though, after all, it was an outside job. Someone, that is to say, who had a down on Dr. Christow, and who we don't know anything about! Someone invisible and inaudible who pinched the guns from the study, and who went away after the shooting by the path to the lane. Someone who put the gun in your hedge and then vanished into thin air!"

"Would you like my finger-prints, my friend?"

"I don't mind if I do! It strikes me, M.

Poirot, that you were on the spot, and that taking it all round you're far and away the most suspicious character in the case!"