“Quite sure.”
“Did you see anyone go by the path into the wood that afternoon?” I asked. “Or come from it?”
“Oh, yes, quite a number of people. Dr. Stone and Miss Cram went that way—it’s the nearest way to the barrow for them. That was a little after two o’clock. And Dr. Stone returned that way—as you know, Mr. Redding, since he joined you and Mrs. Protheroe.”
“By the way,” I said. “That shot—the one you heard, Miss Marple. Mr. Redding and Mrs. Protheroe must have heard it too.”
I looked inquiringly at Lawrence.
“Yes,” he said, frowning. “I believe I did hear some shots. Weren’t there one or two shots?”
“I only heard one,” said Miss Marple.
“It’s only the vaguest impression in my mind,” said Lawrence. “Curse it all, I wish I could remember. If only I’d known. You see, I was so completely taken up with—with—”
He paused, embarrassed.
I gave a tactful cough. Miss Marple, with a touch of prudishness, changed the subject.
“Inspector Slack has been trying to get me to say whether I heard the shot after Mr. Redding and Mrs. Protheroe had left the studio or before. I’ve had to confess that I really could not say definitely, but I have the impression—which is growing stronger the more I think about it—that it was after.”