Marcus, who knew that the sum of Uncle William’s athletic prowess was represented by the silver mug gained at a preparatory school in 1881, frowned on this unwarrantable assertion, but the older man rattled on.
‘I asked Andrew afterwards—cautiously, you know—if he’d noticed anything odd. He asked me what I meant. He was as drunk as a bargee at the time, so I don’t suppose he did notice anything.’
‘And the third time?’ said Mr Campion curiously.
‘And the third time,’ said Uncle William grudgingly, ‘was more unfortunate still. The third time was on the Sunday that Andrew disappeared—in fact, actually at the time that he did disappear. That’s what makes it so awkward.’
Marcus started violently. ‘Mr Faraday!’ he protested. ‘You didn’t tell me this.’
‘I’m not a man who talks about my ailme
