'What did she mean by that?'

'Well,' said Alice, 'I'm not sure…' 'Come off it, Alice,' said Fernie. 'She meant that if he didn't get home on time he'd get his own tea. She was a stickler for that, you've often told me. And he didn't get home on time either.'

'How do you know that?'

'I saw him. About half past six. And I'll tell you something else.'

'Dave!' said Alice with real annoyance in her voice.

'What's that?'

'He was drunk. Could hardly stand.'

The constable scribbled assiduously in his notebook.

'You're certain of that?'

'Dave!' said his wife again.

'Oh yes,' said Fernie, looking at his wife. She ignored his glance. 'If you're finished with me, I think I'll go back to bed,' said Alice, standing up so that her housecoat fell open revealing her thin nightdress. 'Thank you very much, Mrs Fernie,' said Edwards. 'You've been most helpful. We might want to see you again.'

'I'll be ready.'

She went out, leaving the constable smiling and her husband scowling. 'Now, Mr Fernie. What exactly happened when you met Mr Connon last night?'

'So that's all you can tell me, Mr Connon?'

That's right, Superintendent.'

'You got home about half past six. How positive is that time?'

'I don't know. Pretty approximate.'

'That's a help. You say the television was on when you stuck your head into the lounge?' 'That's right. I see what you mean. There was some variety show. Dancers, girls, not much on. Dancing behind a singer. Big youth, rather Italianate, singing something about flowers.'

Dalziel smiled sardonically.

'So you were out for four hours?'

That's right.'

'Nasty that. What'd your doctor say?' 'I don't know what his diagnosis was. He just seemed concerned with getting me to bed.'