Gardener looked with quick apprehension at Nigel. "Shall I implicate anyone by this?"

"For Heaven's sake," said Nigel, "tell the truth."

Gardener was silent for a moment. "No," he said at last. "If I had an idea, it was altogether too slight to be of use, and it would carry undue weight; you couldn't help yourself—you'd be influenced. I can see that. I've done enough harm for one night, haven't I?" He stared fiercely at Alleyn.

Alleyn smiled.

"I'm not terribly easily influenced," he said, "and I promise it won't carry one ounce overweight."

"No," said Gardener obstinately. "I'm not even sure myself. The more I think the less sure I get."

"Was it something to do with your sense of smell?"

"My God!" whispered Gardener.

"Thank you," said Alleyn.

Gardener and Nigel stared at him. Gardener began to laugh hysterically.

"Proper detective stuff. 'This man is clever.' Actor-proof part."

"Be quiet," said Alleyn. "I don't want any more histrionics. I'm sick of scenes, Mr. Gardener."

"Sorry."

"So I should hope. Now this revolver. I understand it belonged to your brother. How long have you had it, please?"

"Ever since he died."

"Had you any ammunition?"

"I gave Props the cartridges he turned into dummies."

"Any more at home?"

"No, couldn't find any more. Just the six that were in it. Oh, I supplied everything."

"What did you do after you ran into the man in the dark offstage?"

"Swore and rubbed my foot. It was still hurting when the lights went up."

"Did you go anywhere near the desk that was standing on the stage—almost in the wings?"

"I've no idea. I suppose I must have done so. You mean the desk that—the cartridges were in. It must have been close by."

"About that scene we all witnessed in Miss Vaughan's dressing-room. Why did Surbonadier make that very unpleasant to-do?"

"He was tight."

"Nothing else behind it?"

"He disliked me. I told you that."

"So you did," agreed Alleyn. "But it seemed to me that he disliked you for more reason than that of professional jealousy."

"Yes. You must have seen how it was."

"Miss Vaughan?"

"At least, let us keep Stephanie out of this."

"She is in it. She must take her place in the jigsaw puzzle. I'm sorry. The nicer delicacies do not enter into murder cases. I take it you are engaged to Miss Vaughan and that Surbonadier was the unsuccessful suitor."

"We are not publicly engaged. We're not. I've no doubt killed my chances along with my only serious rival. The engagement was to be announced at our supper-party."

"Yes, I see. Mr. Gardener, have you a pair of gloves here in your dressing-room?"

Gardener turned very white.

"Yes," he said, "I have."

"Where?"

"I don't know. Probably in my overcoat pocket. I don't wear any in the piece."