"As a mere amateur at this sort of thing, I wondered whether he was punished for singing too much, or whether he was choked off before he really hit a tune. What's your opinion?"
Simon let the question go unanswered while he tasted his sherry again, and when he put his glass down he seemed to have a convenient impression that he had already answered and could start again on another tack.
"He made quite a lot of headlines," he observed idly.
"fie was quite a figure in his business, you know," Uttershaw J said.
"You must have known him, of course."
"Fairly well. He bought his iridium from my firm — in the good old days when we had some."
"And then?"
Uttershaw spread his hands.
"Then, I suppose, the poor devil dipped into the black market, with the results already noted. You probably know much more about that than I do. How deeply was he mixed up in it?"
Simon waited until the sole was in front of them and he had enjoyed his first taste; and then he said directly, but with the same amiable presupposition of a common intelligence: "How would it be if you told me why I should tell you anything, before you ask too many questions?"