"You men," said Alleyn to the constables, "take everyone to the wardrobe-room. One of you stay outside and one at the stage door. Nobody to come out or go in. Mr. Simpson will show you. He goes in too. Please, Mr. Simpson."

The stage manager started forward and looked wanly round the stage.

"Everybody in the wardrobe-room, please," he said, as though he was calling a rehearsal. He turned to the constables. "This way, please," he added.

He walked off the stage, a policeman following him. A second man waited a moment and then said:

"Just move along, please, ladies and gentlemen." Old Susan Max, roundabout, sensible, said: "Come along, dear," to Miss Vaughan. Miss Vaughan stretched out her hands dumbly to Gardener, who did not look at her. She turned towards Alleyn, who watched her curiously, and then, with a very touching dignity, she let herself be led off by Susan Max. At the doorway she turned and looked again at the dead man, shuddered, and disappeared into the wings.

"Lovely exit, wasn't it?" said the inspector.

"Alleyn!" exclaimed Nigel, really shocked.

Miss Janet Emerald, the "heavy" woman, said: "Bounder!" from behind a piece of scenery.

"Let us go," replied the voice of J. Barclay Crammer. "We are in these people's hands." He appeared on the stage, crossed it, and gripped Gardener's hand. "Come, old man," he said. "With me. Together."

"Oh, get along, the whole lot of you," exclaimed Alleyn with the utmost impatience. Mr. Crammer looked at him, more in sorrow than in anger, and did as he suggested. Gardener straightened his back and managed the veriest ghost of a smile. "You agree with me about actors, I see," he said.

Alleyn responded instantly: "They are a bit thick, aren't they?"

"I want to say," said Gardener, "that I know I've killed him; but, before God, Mr. Alleyn, I didn't load that revolver."

"Don't talk," said Nigel. "They'll find out everything—they'll clear you. Don't worry more than you can help, you know."

Gardener waited a moment. He looked like a man coming round from concussion to realise gradually his abominable surroundings.

"Look here," he said suddenly. "Somebody must have——" He stopped short. A terrified look came into his eyes. Nigel took him by the elbow again and gently urged him forward. "You're a decent old sausage, Nigel," he said uncertainly. "Oh, well——"

"Now!" said Alleyn with relief.

They all turned to him.

"Can we have the whole story?" asked the older of the two C.I.D. men.

"You can. Here it is——"

Alleyn was interrupted by a shrill scream that seemed to come from the dressing-room passage. A woman's voice raised in hideous falsetto was mingled with an exasperated baritone. "Let me alone, let me alone, let me alone!"

"Oh, Lord, more highstrikes!" said Chief Detective-Inspector Alleyn. "Go and see what it's about, Bailey."