"I think I know your name," Shayne lied tranquilly.
"I assure you that I did not kill her, Shayne," His voice broke on a falsetto key like the changing voice of a teenaged boy.
"But you have no alibi for before seven?" Shayne said.
"Precisely. And even though that alibi is sufficient, you can readily understand that a police investigation would bring the whole story to light . . . and ruin me."
"Naturally," Shayne scowled heavily, wondering how long he could keep the man talking without giving away the fact that he hadn't the faintest idea what he was talking about.
(from This Is It, Michael Shayne," by Brett Halliday)
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