"Is that so, miss? Why not?"
"Weill" Jenny laughed, not convincingly. "I didn't do it Grandmother certainly didn't For the rest, there's the alibi!"
"Oh, ah, miss? What do you know about an alibi?"
"Only what Ruth Callice told me yesterday." Jenny shivered violently; even her mouth seemed distorted; Martin quickly put his arm round her shoulder. "About a. blood-stained dagger somebody used to kill poor Enid Puckston, at half-past eleven or thereabouts."
"Anything else, miss?"
"Ruth said Mr. Stannard — he's a tremendous barrister — had suddenly snapped his fingers and said to her, 'You know, I was so tired and groggy I completely forgot to tell Inspector Drake about that alibi. No, wait' he said, 'let them find it out themselves.' But he told Ruth."
"You can forget the alibi too, miss," Masters remarked quietly. "It's shot to blazes."
From outside the window the churning tinkle of the merry-go-round, silent for a time, began to rise loudly with We're All Together Now. In the octagonal room, with its white walk and its red geraniums inside the window, the tune seemed to swirl round as in a bowl, above the babble of voices.
"So you did upset the alibi!" Martin muttered. "How?"
Masters looked complacent.