Hastings?" he inquired, a curiously effective sarcasm in his voice. "A statement covering every second from the time you waked up Saturday night until you saw the body." "A statement! Reporters!" He was snarling on that. "What's got into you, anyway? What are you trying to do make people suspect me of the murder-make 'em suspect Berne?" He threw away the cigarette and shook his fist at Hastings.