There was a sudden outcry of angry voices, the laurels heaved as two men struggled together.
A high-pitched American voice sang out resolutely:
"I've got you, you damned scoundrel!
Drop that gun!"
Two men struggled out into the open.
The young gardener who had dug so industriously that morning was writhing in the powerful grip of a man nearly a head taller.
Poirot recognized the latter at once. He had already guessed from the voice.
Frank Carter snarled: "Let go of me!
It wasn't me, I tell you!
I never did."
Howard Raikes said: "Oh! no?
Just shooting at the birds, I suppose!"
He stopped – looking at the newcomers.
"Mr. Alistair Blunt?
This guy here has just taken a pot shot at you.
I caught him right in the act."
Frank Carter cried out: "It's a lie!
I was clipping the hedge. I heard a shot and the gun fell right here at my feet.
I picked it up – that's only natural, that is, and then this bloke jumped on me."
Howard Raikes said grimly:
"The gun was in your hand and it had just been fired!"
With a final gesture, he tossed the pistol to Poirot.
"Let's see what the dick's got to say about it!
Lucky I got hold of you in time.
I guess there are several more shots in that automatic of yours."
Poirot murmured: "Precisely."
Blunt was frowning angrily. He said sharply: "Now then, Dunnon – Dunbury – what's your name?"
Hercule Poirot interrupted, He said: "This man's name is Frank Carter."
Carter turned on him furiously.
"You've had it in for me all along!
You came spying on me that Sunday.
I tell you, it's not true.
I never shot at him."
Hercule Poirot said gently, "Then, in that case, who did?"
He added:
"There is no one else here but ourselves, you see."
III Jane Olivera came running along the path. Her hair streamlined back behind her.
Her eyes were wide with fear. She gasped: "Howard?"
Howard Raikes said lightly: "Hullo, Jane.
I've just been saving your uncle's life."
"Oh!"
She stopped. "You have?"
"Your arrival certainly seems to have been very opportune, Mr. – er -" Blunt hesitated.
"This is Howard Raikes, Uncle Alistair.
He's a friend of mine."
Blunt looked at Raikes – he smiled.
"Oh!" he said. "So you are Jane's young man!
I must thank you."
With a puffing noise as of a steam engine at high pressure Julia Olivera appeared on the scene. She panted out.
"I heard a shot.