“I am asking you,” replied Hannasyde.
“I know you are, and that's just the trouble. The point is, if I know just how much you know, it'll save a great deal of bother. I mean, it's no use my telling you I went to the Zoo if you're going to prove I spent the day in the British Museum. At the same time, I don't want to tell you anything I needn't. You see my difficulty?”
Giles Carrington interposed before Hannasyde could reply: “May I give you a piece of advice, Roger?”
“Anybody can do whatever they like as far as I'm concerned,” said Roger. “Mind you, I don't particularly want your advice, because as far as I can see you're hand in glove with this Superintendent Osric - no, not Osric, but, anyway, whatever his name is.”
Giles disregarded this. “Don't play the fool. You're not dealing with a fool.”
“Is that your advice?” demanded Roger incredulously. “It is.”
“Well, I don't think much of it. You can't expect me to change my habits at my time of life. I've always had a gift for taking things cheerfully.”
“This particular brand of cheerfulness is likely to land you in trouble,” said Giles rather sternly.
There was a distinct gleam of intelligence in the hazy, bloodshot eyes. “Oh no, it isn't!” said Roger. “Nobody's going to land me in trouble. Of course, I don't say that there may not be a Beat deal of unpleasantness. I daresay there will be. But Tony's been telling me all about this murder, and it looks pretty water-tight to me. You haven't got any clues at all, not even a finger print; you don't know who was with Arnold that night - in fact, you don't know anything at all except that he was murdered.”
“We have one clue,” said Hannasyde. “The weapon which was used.”