'You know,' Starkwedder went on, 'I don't think that your husband was quite the fine sporting fellow you think he was. I have an idea he mightn't have waited for a count of three. You say he was a damn good shot, but this time he missed, and the bullet went out here' – he gestured as he walked out onto the terrace – 'into the garden where there are a good many other bullets. But MacGregor doesn't miss. He shoots and kills.' Starkwedder came back into the room. 'He drops his gun by the body, takes Richard's gun, goes out of the window, and presently he comes back.'
'Comes back?' Laura asked. 'Why does he come back?'
Starkwedder looked at her for a few seconds without speaking. Then, taking a deep breath, he asked, 'Can't you guess?'
Laura looked at him wonderingly. She shook her head. 'No, I've no idea,' she replied.
He continued to regard her steadily. After a pause, he spoke slowly and with an effort. 'Well,' he said, 'suppose MacGregor has an accident with his car and can't get away from here. What else can he do?
Only one thing – come up to the house and discover the body!'
'You speak-' Laura gasped, 'you speak as though you know just what happened.'
Starkwedder could no longer restrain himself. 'Of course I know,' he burst out passionately. 'Don't you understand? I'm MacGregor!' He leaned back against the curtains, shaking his head desperately.
Laura rose, an incredulous look on her face. She stepped towards him, half raising her arm, unable to grasp the full meaning of his words. 'You –' she murmured. 'You –'
Starkwedder walked slowly towards Laura. 'I never meant any of this to happen,' he told her, his voice husky with emotion. 'I mean – finding you, and finding that I cared about you, and that – Oh, God, it's hopeless. Hopeless.' As she stared at him, dazed, Starkwedder took her hand and kissed the palm. 'Goodbye, Laura,' he said, gruffly.
He went quickly out through the french windows and disappeared into the mist. Laura ran out onto the terrace and called after him, 'Wait – wait. Come back!'
The mist swirled, and the Bristol fog signal began to boom. 'Come back, Michael, come back!' Laura cried. There was no reply. 'Come back, Michael,' she called again. 'Please come back! I care about you too.'
She listened intently, but heard only the sound of a car starting up and moving off. The fog signal continued to sound as she collapsed against the window and burst into a fit of uncontrollable sobbing.
