But when Constable Mather, a freckle-faced and serious young man, came in, he said regretfully that when he passed up Barnsley Street he had seen nothing of any man in evening dress.
"There you are!" said Hemingway, exasperated. "What did I tell you? Just making up a good tale, that's all the silly little fool was doing."
Hannasyde addressed the young policeman. "When you passed, did you happen to notice whether the light was on in the basement of No. 43?"
"That's Mrs. Prim's," said Mather. "If you'll excuse me, I'll have to think a minute, sir."
The Sergeant regarded him with bird-like curiosity, and said: "Either you know or you don't."
The grave grey eyes came to rest on his face. "Not till I've walked up the road, sir. I'm doing that now - if you wouldn't mind waiting a minute. I find I can think back if I do that."
"Carry on," said Hannasyde, quelling the sceptical Sergeant with a frown.
There was a pause, during with PC Mather apparently projected his spirit back to Barnsley Street. At last he said with decision: "Yes, sir, it was. No. 39 - that's Mrs. Dugdale's - had a window open, but she's got bars up, so it didn't matter. Then the next house, which is No. 41, was all dark, and after that there was one with the basement light on. That was No. 43."
"I see," Hannasyde said. "You feel sure of that?"
"Yes, sir."