The lame man leaned forward in his chair and made his voice sharp, provocative.
"You're not as clever as you think you are. You lied when you made your statement about the night Mrs. Withers was murdered. Now, come through with that—the truth about it!"
Morley, utterly bewildered, stared and said nothing.
"What did you do that night? Where were you?"
Bristow left his chair and, going round the table, stood in front of Morley.
"I told you that once. I wasn't anywhere near Manniston Road."
"Yes, you were! We've got proof of it. You were there!"
"What proof?"
"You're curious about that, are you? I thought you would be! For one thing, the imprint of your rubber shoe on the porch floor of Number Five—"
"No! No! I wasn't on the porch. I——" He checked the words, realizing that he had betrayed himself.