“He — he — I think he said something about — did I remember what we’d said.”

“What did he mean?”

“About Courtney and the money.”

“Now think carefully and answer me truthfully. It’s important. Who first made the suggestion that Broadhead might have taken that money — you or Mr. Liversidge?”

“He did, of course,” said Gordon at once.

“Ah, yes,” said Alleyn.

He sat down on the end of the bed and again he contemplated Gordon. It seemed to him that after all the boy was not so intolerably sophisticated. “His sophistication is no more than a spurious glaze over his half-baked adolescence,” thought Alleyn. “Under the stress of this affair it has already begun to crack. Perhaps he may even read detective stories.” And suddenly he asked Gordon:

“Are you at all interested in my sort of job?”

“I was, rather, in the abstract,” said Gordon.

“I’m puzzled by your reactions to this affair. Last night, you know, you were so very alert and cock-a-hoop. Your attack on Broadhead! It was most determined.”

“I hadn’t had time to think. It didn’t seem real then. None of it seemed real. Just rather exciting.”

“I know. Perhaps you are one of the people that ricochet from a shock, as a bullet does from an impenetrable surface. You fly off at an uncalculated angle, but do not at once lose speed.”

“Perhaps I am,” agreed Gordon, cheered by the delicious promise of self-analysis. “Yes, I think I am like that. I—”

“It’s a very common reaction,” said Alleyn. “Let us see how the theory may be applied to your case. A man was murdered almost under your nose, and instead of screaming like Miss Gaynes, or being sick like Mr. Mason, you found yourself sailing along in a sort of unreal state of stimulation. You felt rather intoxicated and into your mind, with startling insistence, came a little sequence of ideas about Courtney Broadhead. You thought of your discussion with Mr. Liversidge and — an additional fillip — he actually reminded you of it in the passage. Still sailing along, you were seized with the idea of bringing off one of those startling coups, which, unfortunately for us, occur more often in fiction than in police investigations. You would confront Broadhead with his infamy and surprise him into betraying himself. It’s a typical piece of adolescent behaviourism. Very interesting in its way. A projection of the king-of-the-castle phantasy — I forget the psycho-analytical description.”

He paused. Gordon, very red in the face, was silent.

“Well,” continued Alleyn, “when that little affair was over you began to lose speed and come to earth. You had time to think. You tell me that as the others went out, one by one, until only you and Mr. Weston were left under Packer’s eye, you began to get the jim-jams. You got them so badly that when we sent for you, you bolted. I can’t help wondering if there was some additional cause for this — if perhaps you had remembered something that seemed to throw a new light on this crime.”

Still watching the boy, Alleyn thought: “Really, he changes colour like a chameleon. If he goes any whiter he’ll faint.”

“What do you mean?” said Gordon.

“I see I am right You did remember something. Will you tell me what it was?”

“I don’t even know what you are talking about.”

“Don’t you? It doesn’t seem very difficult. Well, I had better leave it for the moment and ask a few routine questions. Let me see, you came round from the front of the house to the stage as soon as the show was over?”

“Yes.”

“Did you walk straight on to the stage and remain there?”

“Yes.”

“You did not go to any of the dressing-rooms?”

“No. I wanted to go to Carolyn’s room but Ted Gascoigne was stupid about it so I didn’t.”

“Right. After the disaster, when I suggested that you should wait somewhere with your cousin until the police arrived, did you both keep together?”

“We went to the wardrobe-room. Geoff took me there.”

“Right. Now about this tiki. What were you going to say about that when I questioned Miss Dacres in the wardrobe-room?”

“Nothing.”

“Shall I make another guess? When I asked Miss Dacres where the tiki was, she put her hand up to her dress with that quick, almost involuntary gesture a woman uses when she has something hidden in what used to be called her bodice. You saw that gesture, and a moment afterwards you made an exclamation and then refused to explain it. That was because you remembered that during the supper-party you saw Miss Dacres slip the tiki under the bodice of her dress.”

“How do you know? I–I wasn’t sure. I only thought—”

“A moment afterwards, she looked in her bag and then said she did not remember handling the tiki after she had put it down on the table.”

“There’s nothing in that,” said Gordon hotly. “She’d simply forgotten. That’s not surprising after what happened. She wasn’t trying to tell lies, if that’s what you mean. She’d forgotten, I tell you. Why, I only happened to remember because of her hand—”

“I merely wanted to be sure that you’d seen her do it.”

“Well, if I did, what of it?”

“Nothing at all. And now I shall leave you to arise and greet the latter half of the morning. I suggest two aspirins, some black coffee and a brisk walk to the police station where Inspector Wade will be delighted to receive your apologies for your offensive behaviour. I forget what the penalty is for running away from the police in the execution of their duty. Something with a little boiling oil in it, perhaps. I suppose you loathe The Mikado?”

“Look here, sir, what’ll they do.to me?”

“If you tell them, nicely, what you’ve just told me, I shall try and stay their wrath. Otherwise—”

Alleyn made a portentous grimace and walked out of the room.

Chapter XVII

CHANGE OF SCENE

When Alleyn returned to the lounge he found Wade there, waiting for him. They retired to Alleyn’s room where he related the gist of his conversation with Gordon.

“I’ve told him to give you the whole story himself.”

“I still don’t see why he cleared out on us,” said Wade.

“I fancy it was partly because he’d worked himself up into a blue funk over the whole business. His nerves are in a lamentable state, silly little creature. And I do think, Wade, that he’s in a devil of a twit over this business of the tiki.”

“Yee-es? And why’s that, sir?”

Alleyn hesitated for a moment. A curious look of reluctance came into his face. When he spoke his voice was unusually harsh.

“Why? Because he caught Carolyn Dacres lying. Last night when I asked her about the tiki her hand went to her breast. She fingered her dress, expecting to feel the hard little tiki underneath. Then she said she had not handled it since it was left on the table. She looked in her bag. The only honest thing she did was involuntary — that movement of her hand. I’ve told you young Palmer started to speak, and stopped dead. This morning I trapped him into as good as admitting he’d seen her put the tiki into her dress.”

“But why did he stop? He couldn’t have known where we found it, could he?”

“No. The young booby’s head over ears in calf-love with her. He sensed the lie, as I did, and wouldn’t give her away.”

“I reckon I’ll talk to Miss Carolyn Dacres-Meyer before I do another thing. This looks like something, sir. And she could have gone up there. She could have done it all right.”

“Yes. Wade, at the risk of making an intolerable nuisance of myself, I’m going to ask a favour of you. Will you allow me to speak to her first? I–I’ve a perfectly legitimate reason for wanting to do this. At least,” said Alleyn with a wry smile, “I think it’s legitimate. It’s just possible she may feel less on the defensive with me. You see — I know her.”

“You go to it, sir,” said Wade, with a violent heartiness that may possibly have concealed a feeling of chagrin. “You do just as you please, and we’ll be more than satisfied. That’ll be quite O.K. As you say, you’ll get a lot more out of her than we would, seeing she looks on you as a friend.”