“Chick,” said Nick, “Masson was in his club from six o’clock in the evening until ten at night. Three men stand to swear to it.”
“What time did Ethel Romney leave her home last night?” asked Chick.
“About eight o’clock.”
“It’s a puzzle; more puzzling the deeper you get into it,” said Chick. “If these three men stand firm, Masson can prove an alibi, if charged.”
“Chick, one man stands ready to swear that he saw Eric Masson in Fifty-eighth Street at nine o’clock, for he had just looked at his watch as he saluted Masson.
“Another stands ready to swear that he met and spoke to Eric Masson at about half-past nine, at the corner of Fifty-seventh Street and Fifth Avenue.”
“And this is the result of your inquiries since I parted with you?” asked Chick.
“You think that instead of clearing things they are worse muddled.”
“It would look that way.”
“Well, you’re right. I can’t even imagine an explanation of these contradictions.”