“What with?” he asked blankly.
“The Stanworth affair of course, you idiot!” shouted the exasperated Alec.
“Ah, yes, of course. The Stanworth affair,” Roger replied innocently. “Did I do that bit well, Alec?” he asked with a sudden change of tone.
“What bit?”
“When I said, ‘What with?’ Did I say it with an air of bland innocence? The best detectives always do, you know. When they reach this stage of the proceedings they always pretend to have forgotten all about the case in hand. Why they do so, I’ve never been able to imagine; but it’s evidently the correct etiquette for the job. By the way, Alec,” he added kindly, “you did your part very well. The idiot friend always shouts in an irritated and peevish way like that. I really think we make quite a model pair, don’t you?”
“Will you stop yapping and tell me whether you’ve got any farther with Stanworth’s murder?” Alec demanded doggedly.
“Oh, that?” said Roger with studied carelessness. “I solved that exactly forty-three minutes ago.”
“What?”
“I said that I solved the mystery exactly forty-three minutes ago. And a few odd seconds, of course. It was an interesting little problem in its way, my dear Alexander Watson, but absurdly simple once one had grasped the really vital factor in the case. For some extraordinary reason I appeared to have overlooked it before; hence the delay. But don’t put that bit in when you come to write up the case, or I shall never land the next vacancy for a stolen-crown-jewels recoverer to an influential emperor.”
“You’ve solved it, have you?” Alec growled sceptically. “I seem to have heard something like that before.”