"Here's the burnin' question," he snapped. "You or I got testimony, today or yesterday evening, from all the witnesses who weren't dead or out of reach. Does it agree with what they said twenty years ago?"
"Ah. Almost to a T." Masters's eye grew thoughtful. "Almost too close, don't you think?"
"No, son. Oh, my eye, no! You're not likely to forget the first HE bomb that fell close to you; now are you? Or the circumstances? No. And that's a great help."
"It's a great help to know there aren't any contradictions?"
"That's right."
Masters shut his eyes. "Anything else?"
"You don't mention Dr. Hugh Laurier as bein' there. Or wasn't he qualified for medicine yet?"
"He'd qualified a few years before; he was helping his father. But he was in London that day. He missed the train, and didn't get back till later."
"I see," observed H.M. in a colourless tone, and dropped his hands. "Finally, son, in that brief-case you got the Scotland Yard dossier, in a blue folder, with the statements of Simon Frew and Arthur Puckston. One with the binoculars, the other with the telescope." H.M. stretched out his hand and waggled the fingers. "Gimme that folder!"
And now they both saw, with growing alarm, the extent of H.M.s disquiet