‘He’s an idiotic cub,’ said Gaunt. ‘What’s Questing got to do with the price of stalls?’

‘He’s been talking big business, sir. Young Simon thinks he’s lent a good bit to the Colonel on this show. He thinks the Colonel can’t pay up and Mr Questing’s going to shut down on them and run the place on his pat. Young Simon’s that disgusted he’s taken a scunner on anything that looks like smart business.’

‘Yes, but—’

‘He’s funny. I had it out with him. He told me what he’d been saying to you, and I said he’d acted very silly. “I’ve been with my gentleman for ten years,” I told him, “and there’s not much we don’t know about the show business. I seen him when he was a small-part actor playing a couple-of-coughs-and-a-spit in stock,” I said, “and he may be getting the big money, but how long’ll it last?”’

‘What the hell did you mean by that?’

‘We’re not as young as we was, sir, are we? “You don’t want to talk silly,” I said. “Questing’s one thing and my gentleman’s another.” But no. “You’re no better than a flunkey,” he says. “You’re demeaning yourself.” I straightened him up about that. “There’s none of the blooming vally about me,” I says, “I’m a dresser and make-up, and what I do on the side is done by me own choice. I’m in the game with my gentleman.” “It’s greed for money,” he howls, “that’s ruining the world. Big business started this war,” he says, “and when we’ve won it us chaps that did the fighting are going to have a say in the way things are run. The Questings’ll be wiped right off the slate.” That’s the way he talks, you see, sir. Mind, I feel sorry for him. He’s got the idea that his dad and ma are going to just about conk out over this business and to his way of thinking Questing’s as good as a murderer. He says Smith knows something about Questing and that’s why he had to jump for it when the train come. You’ve had fifteen minutes on them muscles and that’ll do you.’

‘You’ve damned nearly flayed me alive.’

‘Yes,’ said Colly, flinging a blanket over his victim and going into the next room to wash his hands. ‘He’s morbid, is young Sim. And of course Mr Questing’s little attempts at the funny business with Miss Barbara kind of put the pot on it.’

Dikon, who had been clattering his typewriter, paused.

‘What’s that?’ said Gaunt, suddenly alert.

‘Had you missed the funny business, sir?’ said Colly from the next room. ‘Oh, yes. Quite a bit of trouble she has with him, I understand.’

‘What did I tell you, Dikon?’