“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Horace whispered. “He is willing to talk.”
Judy was not so sure. “Did what?” she asked. “Did Roger Banning hurt you?”
“The time ... what time is it?”
“He must be delirious,” Horace whispered. “He doesn’t understand what you said.”
“What time is it?” the voice from behind the door was asking again.
Horace told him the exact time, adding that his watch was accurate. “I checked it with my car radio this morning.”
“What day?”
“It’s Tuesday, the third of December.”
This simple statement was greeted with a moan of despair. “Eleven o’clock ... Tuesday ... the very day ... the very hour!”
“Is something timed?” asked Judy, thinking that the fountain might be turned off and on by some sort of a timing device.