"You had rather a shocking experience here, in Mr. Fleming's death," Rand
said, over his shoulder, to the butler.

"Oh, yes indeed, sir!" Walters seemed relieved that Rand had broken the
silence. "A great loss to all of us, sir. And so unexpected."

He didn't seem averse to talking about it, and went on at some length.
His story closely paralleled that of Gladys Fleming.

"Mr. Varcek called the doctor immediately," he said. "Then Mr. Dunmore
pointed out that the doctor would be obliged to notify either the coroner
or the police, so he called Mr. Goode, the family solicitor. That was
about twenty minutes after the shot. Mr. Goode arrived directly; he was
here in about ten minutes. I must say, sir, I was glad to see him; to
tell the truth, I had been afraid that the authorities might claim that
Mr. Fleming had shot himself deliberately."

Somebody else doesn't like the smell of that accident, Rand thought.
Aloud, he said:

"Mr. Goode lives nearby, then, I take it?"

"Oh, yes, sir. You can see his house from these windows. Over here, sir."

Rand looked out the window. The rain-soaked lawn of the Fleming residence
ended about a hundred yards to the west; beyond it, an orchard was
beginning to break into leaf, and beyond the orchard and another lawn
stood a half-timbered Tudor-style house, somewhat smaller than the
Fleming place. A path led down from it to the orchard, and another led