―B is parkgate. Good.

His finger leaped and struck point after point, vibrating.

―T is viceregal lodge. C is where murder took place. K is Knockmaroon gate.

The loose flesh of his neck shook like a cock’s wattles. An illstarched dicky jutted up and with a rude gesture he thrust it back into his waistcoat.

―Hello? Evening Telegraph here⁠ ⁠… Hello?⁠ ⁠… Who’s there?⁠ ⁠… Yes⁠ ⁠… Yes⁠ ⁠… Yes⁠ ⁠…

―F to P is the route Skin-the-goat drove the car for an alibi. Inchicore, Roundtown, Windy Arbour, Palmerston Park, Ranelagh. F. A. B. P. Got that? X is Davy’s publichouse in upper Leeson street.