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cried. “I can just make the boat if I hurry, Inspector. Of course, you’re not going to hold me now.”

“But I do hold you,” Charlie answered. “Spencer, if this man makes another move, kindly place him beneath arrest.”

“Are you mad?” Jaynes cried. “You have your confession, haven’t you———”

“With regard to that,” said Charlie, “wait just a moment, please.” He turned back to Fyfe, who was standing quietly beside him. “You left the pavilion, Mr. Fyfe, at four minutes past eight?”

“I did.”

“You had already killed Shelah Fane?”

“I had.”

“You drove to the theater and were in the wings of same at twenty minutes past eight?”

“Yes—I told you all that.”

“The stage manager will swear that you were there at twenty minutes past eight?”

“Of course—of course.”

Chan stared at him. “Yet at twelve minutes past eight,” he said, “Shelah Fane was seen alive and well.”

“What’s that!” Tarneverro cried.

“Pardon—I am speaking with this other gentleman. At twelve minutes past eight, Mr. Fyfe, Shelah Fane was seen alive and well. How do you account for that?”

Fyfe dropped into a chair and covered his face with his hands.

“I do not understand you,” Charlie said gently. “You wish me to believe you killed Shelah Fane. Yet, of all the people in this room, you alone have unshakable alibi.”