'A-l, I hope,' said Dalziel when Connon reappeared.

'I hope not, Superintendent. That would mean I couldn't get better. And I don't think I've recovered from that knock yet. I hope we won't be much longer.' 'This is a murder enquiry, Mr Connon. We need your help. Your wife is dead.' I think that I am at least as aware of that as you, Superintendent. My daughter will be arriving home some time this morning. I'd like to be there to meet her.'

Dalziel looked sympathetic.

'Of course. A father's feelings. But have no worries on that score. My sergeant was just telling me. Your daughter's got here safe and sound. We were able to assist a little there.'

Connon stood up.

'Jenny? Here? You mean, hereT 'Oh no. Never worry yourself. I mean at home, of course. We wouldn't bring her here.'

'At home. Then I must go.'

Dalziel let him reach the door.

'Just one question, Mr Connon.'

'If you must.' 'You left the Club at twenty to six, and got home about six-thirty. Rather a long time isn't it? It's only seven or eight miles at the most. And there's not much traffic about at that time.'

'There was enough.'

Dalziel, expert at detecting ironies, thought he heard one here. 'You didn't stop for any reason? A drink perhaps? Or had you had enough at the Club?'

'Why do you ask?' said Connon quietly.

'Well, it's just that we've had a statement. Not guaranteed reliable, mark you. But admissible, and voluntary, and therefore carrying some weight. This man…'

'Which man?'

'A man called Fernie, says he met you last night. Is that true?'

'Yes.'

'About six-thirty?'

'Yes.'

'Outside your house?'

'Yes again.'

'He says that you were acting oddly. In various ways. He says, in fact he was willing to swear, but we introduced a degree of moderation, as is our wont. He says he got the distinct impression that you were drunk. Very drunk.' Thank you for telling me, Superintendent. Now I must go. Goodbye.'