"Every detail," H.M. reassured him, "goes on the table tonight. For our conference. We've been dealt some awful good cards, but a little conjuror's hokey-pokey won't do any harm when it's our turn to deal."
"Then what was all that flummery a minute ago? First you started gabbling about a beach-chair, and then about the skeleton and Dr. Laurier…"
"Wait a minute! I didn't.."
"And," Masters rode him down, "you said they were connected by a real clue."
"Oh, Masters! The whole place is flooded with clues."
"Maybe so. You talked about a 'real' clue, that bonged down out of the air, like, and hit you on the head. I can't see the wood for the trees. I don't see anything, except that the alibi is a fake. Where did you get this 'real' clue? Where did it come from?"
H.M. pondered.
"Well," he said, "from my reincarnation."
Chapter 16
"Stop," said Masters, extending his arm like a traffic-policeman. "Stop just there."