“Tell me,” I said softly, “what made you think that Ronald Thoyne had killed Clevedon? You were quite wrong, you know.”
“Wrong?”
“Yes, he had nothing to do with it.”
“Nothing?”
“Nothing at all—in the way you mean.”
“But—”
“I know what I am saying—nothing at all.”
“Is that—?”
“It is the absolute truth.”
There came an interruption in the form of a low knocking at the door, followed by the entry of Detective Pepster.