"From Japan, I think, or China, or—"
"What's his name?"
"Shin Shira Scaramanga Manousa Yama Hama is his full name, but—"
The Police Inspector laid down his pen and stared again at me.
"It's a curious name," said he; "I'll get you to write it down for me. I don't think I should be surprised at anything happening to anyone with a name like that. Where do you say they were going?"
"Well," I explained, "they set out to go to Wimbledon to see a—"
"Wimbledon? Let's see, from Kensington they'd go by train I suppose, from High Street Station, and change at—"
"No, no," I interrupted, "they didn't go by train at all, they—" and here I paused, for I suddenly reflected how exceedingly unlikely the Inspector would be to believe me if I told him exactly how they set out for Wimbledon. "You see," I began by way of explanation, "I bought a rug this morning that—"
"Excuse me, sir," said the Inspector somewhat impatiently, "would you mind keeping to the subject. How did Mr. Shin—er—the foreigner I mean, and your cousin go to Wimbledon? If they didn't go by train, did they drive or go by motor, or what?"
"Well, I was trying to tell you. You see, I bought a rug this morning, that—"