Wimsey explained the failure of his researches at the Bellona.
"Thought I'd better get a line on it at this end," he added. "If we know exactly what time he left here in the morning, we ought to be able to get an idea of the time he got to the Club."
Fentiman screwed his mouth into a whistle.
"But, my dear old egg, didn't Murbles tell you the snag?"
"He told me nothing. Left me to get on with it. What is the snag?"
"Why, don't you see, the old boy never came home that night."
"Never came home?—Where was he, then?"
"Dunno. That's the puzzle. All we know is ... wait a minute, this is Woodward's story; he'd better tell you himself. Woodward!"
"Yes, sir."
"Tell Lord Peter Wimsey the story you told me—about that telephone-call, you know."