“Did you?”
He shook his head. “I didn’t return for my messages until Monday. Besides, everyone in my business says it is urgent. I was not about to set aside my schedule for a switchboard girl. Although now…I rather wish I had.” He closed his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was dozing or thinking.
“Perhaps you can make up for the lapse,” she said. “Can you remember back to the afternoon of June twenty-sixth? That was the date of the call. Did you happen to dine at the club that day?”
He opened his eyes, but they seemed unfocused as he retrieved the memory. “Hmm, yes, I was there. It was a Monday. I remember the club being particularly well attended. Several of us used the telephone. It is situated in a booth, for privacy.” He looked across the lawn, lost in thought, muttering to himself.
