“You knew I was on the island,” I pinned him down.
“You used to come to the island,” he corrected. “I’ve just explained how. But you were not there much, or we should have been able to lay hands on you. We wanted to. There was a warrant out after you tried to murder us. But you had been smuggled away by Ramon.”
I tried again:
“You have heard of my brother-in-law, Sir Ralph Rooksby?”
I wanted to show that, if I hadn’t rings, I had relations.
“Nevah heard of the man in my life,” he said.
“He was the largest land proprietor on the island,” I said.
“Dessay,” he said; “I knew forty of the largest. Mostly sharpers in the boosing-kens.” He yawned.
I said viciously:
“It was your place to know the island. You knew Horton Pen—the Macdonalds?”