time.’ I told him of course that he had made a mistake, but it was odd, wasn’t it? With Una saying that about Devonshire that evening.”
“Very odd,” said Tommy. “Tell me, Mr. le Marchant, did anyone you know have supper near you at the Savoy?”
“Some people called Oglander were at the next table.”
“Do they know Miss Drake?”
“Oh yes, they know her. They are not frightful friends or anything of that kind.”
“Well, if there’s nothing more you can tell us, Mr. le Marchant, I think we will wish you good morning.”
“Either that chap is an extraordinary good liar,” said Tommy as they reached the street, “or else he is speaking the truth.”
“Yes,” said Tuppence. “I have changed my opinion. I have a sort of feeling now that Una Drake was at the Savoy for supper that night.”
“We will now go to the Bon Temps,” said Tommy. “A little food for starving sleuths is clearly indicated. Let’s just get a few girls’ photographs first.”
This proved rather more difficult than was expected. Turning into a photographer’s and demanding a few assorted photographs, they were met with a cold rebuff.
“Why are all the things that are so easy and simple in books so difficult in real life?” wailed Tuppence.
“How horribly suspicious they looked. What do you think they thought we wanted to do with the photographs? We had better go and raid Jane’s flat.”