“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You mean you don’t know Tidings?”
“No,” Freel said defiantly. “I don’t know who he is.”
“You’ve been reading about it in the paper,” Mason said.
“Oh, that! You mean the man who was found dead?”
“That’s the way murdered people are generally found.”
“I just happened to be reading about him. I didn’t even connect the name.”
“Well,” Mason said, “the name connected you.”
Freel straightened and inched forward to sit on the extreme edge of the thin mattress. “Now you look here,” he said. “You can’t come in here and pull this kind of stuff on me. You can’t…”
“Forget it,” Mason interrupted. “Quit trying to dodge the question. When did you last see Tidings alive?”