"
"Oh, obscenity! Is that what it's about?" Rand exclaimed in disgust.
"Yes, Gresham told me about that. He didn't have the drink, and he wasn't
smoking a cigar in the shop, and he left a little after nine. He got home
at nine twenty-two. I can testify to that, myself; I was there at the
time, and so were seven other people." Rand named them. "They dribbled
away at different times during the evening, but Philip Cabot and I stayed
till around eleven." He mentioned the approximate time at which the
others had left. "What time was Rivers killed, or hasn't the time been
fixed?"
"The M.E. says around ten to two," McKenna said.
"He could be wrong; them guys only guess, half the time," Olsen argued.
"And besides, Gresham had it in for Rivers. And that ain't all, neither;
he knew how to use a bayonet, too. I seen him, myself, during the war,
showin' the Home Guard how to do it, just the way Rivers was killed!" he
produced triumphantly.
McKenna used a dirty word. "So what? Anybody who's ever had infantry
training knows that butt-stroke-and-lunge," he retorted. "I learned it
myself, when I was a kid, in '24 and '25, in C.M.T.C. Hell, anybody who's
ever seen a war-movie.... If you hadn't lammed out of Sweden when you
were sixteen, to duck conscription, you'd of known it, too.
Pages:
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177