“She came from the lane?”
“Yes, I’ll show you.”
Full of eagerness, Miss Marple led us out into the garden and pointed out the lane that ran along by the bottom of the garden.
“The path opposite with the stile leads to the Hall,” she explained. “That was the way they were going home together. Mrs. Protheroe came from the village.”
“Perfectly, perfectly,” said Colonel Melchett. “And she went across to the Vicarage, you say?”
“Yes. I saw her turn the corner of the house. I suppose the colonel wasn’t there yet, because she came back almost immediately, and went down the lawn to the studio—that building there. The one the vicar lets Mr. Redding use as a studio.”
“I see. And—you didn’t hear a shot, Miss Marple?”
“I didn’t hear a shot then,” said Miss Marple.
“But you did hear one sometime?”
“Yes, I think there was a shot somewhere in the woods. But quite five or ten minutes afterwards—and, as I say, out in the woods. At least, I think so. It couldn’t have been—surely it couldn’t have been—”
She stopped, pale with excitement.
“Yes, yes, we’ll come to all that presently,” said Colonel Melchett. “Please go on with your story. Mrs. Protheroe went down to the studio?”
“Yes, she went inside and waited. Presently Mr. Redding came along the lane from the village. He came to the Vicarage gate, looked all round—”