alibi; and my brother had just given me the summons he'd been handed in Boonton. It was a ready-made alibi right in my hand. So I used it."
"Why did you need an alibi?"
"I didn't need it; but I thought it might save me trouble. People knew I'd been running round with the Odell girl; and some of them knew she'd been blackmailing me—I'd told 'em, like a damn fool. I told Mannix, for instance. We'd both been stung."
"Is that your only reason for concocting this alibi?" Markham was watching him sharply.
"Wasn't it reason enough? Blackmail would have constituted a motive, wouldn't it?"
"It takes more than a motive to arouse unpleasant suspicion."
"Maybe so. Only I didn't want to be drawn into it.—You can't blame me for trying to keep clear of it."
Markham leaned over with a threatening smile.
"The fact that Miss Odell had blackmailed you wasn't your only reason for lying about the summons. It wasn't even your main reason."
Cleaver's eyes narrowed, but otherwise he was like a graven image.
"You evidently know more about it than I do." He managed to make his words sound casual.
"Not more, Mr. Cleaver," Markham corrected him, "but nearly as much.—Where were you between eleven o'clock and midnight Monday?"
"Perhaps that's one of the things you know."
"You're right.—You were in Miss Odell's apartment."
Cleaver sneered, but he did not succeed in dis-
