“Now you come to mention it, I believe I did,” Roger admitted. “Wanted change, you see.”
“Very well, then, we can assume that you dined at the Trocadero,” said Hannasyde. “What time was it when you left the restaurant?”
“I don't know,” said Roger.
There was no trace of his usual kindliness in the Superintendent's face by this time. His grey eyes were stern, his mouth set rather rigidly. “Very well, Mr Vereker. Do you happen to know what you did when you left the Trocadero?”
Roger performed a vague gesture with one hand. “Just drifted about here and there,” he said.
“Did you spend the night in a hotel or a boardinghouse?”
“No,” said Roger.
“You booked no room anywhere?”
“No,” repeated Roger, still amiably smiling. “Left my bag at the station.”
“Mr Vereker, you cannot have walked about London all night. Will you be good enough to put an end to this farce, and tell me without any more trifling - where you were?”