"The truth, Jerry." His eye met mine unflinchingly. "That's what you want, isn't it?"
"Where did you go?" I groaned. "You must have seen somebody who could identify or remember you?"
"Not a solitary human being to identify me. Those I passed—there were people out of course, late as it was—saw my headlights as I went by. But I was moving fast, Jerry. I was working off a grouch; I needed speed."
"Where did you go?"
"Straight down the peninsula on the main highway to Palo Alto, made the sweep across to the sea, and then up the coast road. I ran into the garage about dawn."
"No stops anywhere?"
He shook his head.
"And that's your alibi?"
"That's my alibi." Worth looked at me a long while before he said finally,
"Don't you see, Jerry, that the other side had all this before they encouraged Bowman to change his mind about when father was shot?"