"I'm sorry." Gardener dropped into a chair and pressed his hand over his eyes. "I'm making an ass of myself. Fire away."

"Do you remember the Jacob Saint libel case?" Gardener stared.

"It's funny you should ask that. I suddenly thought of it a little while ago."

"That's good. Think again. Did you know Surbonadier then?"

"He was sent down soon after I went to Cambridge, and we were at different colleges. His real name was Simes. Yes, I'd met him."

"Did you ever think he wrote the article in the Morning Express that Saint brought the case about?"

"I'm afraid I'm rather vague about it now, but I remember hearing third-year men talk about it at the time."

"Well, the article was sent in by an unknown writer purporting to be one of the 'Mex' staff. It came from Mossburn, near Cambridge."

"I remember, now." Gardener paused for a moment. "I should think it most unlikely Surbonadier wrote it. He'd hardly want to kill the goose that laid the golden eggs."

"He was supposed to be on bad terms with his uncle."

"Yes, that's true. I remember hearing it. He was a most unaccountable chap, and subject to fits of the vilest sort of temper."

"Why was he sent down?"

"On several accounts. A woman. And then he was mixed up with a drug-taking set. Fearful scandal."

"Drugs, eh?"

"Yes. When Saint found out, he threatened to cut him off altogether. He survived that, and went down for good over some affair with a farmer's daughter, I imagine. Oh, Lord, what's the good of all this?"

"Can't you see? If he wrote that article it's quite possible he's been blackmailing Saint for years."

"You mean Saint—oh no."

"Somebody did it."

"I'm half inclined to think he did it himself. He'd have loved to send me to the gallows." Gardener looked as though he forced himself to say this for the sheer horror of hearing the words. He reminded Nigel of a child opening the pages of a book that he knew would terrify him.

"Do get that idea out of your head, Felix. You're the last man they're thinking of," he declared, and hoped he spoke the truth. "Can you remember the names of any men who were friendly with Surbonadier then?"

"There was a fearful swine called—what was his name?—oh, Gaynor. I can't think of anyone else. He was killed in an aeroplane accident, I believe."

"Not much good. If you remember anything more let me know. I'll go now, and do, for the love of Mike, pull yourself together, old thing."

"I'll try. Good-bye, Nigel."

"Good-bye. Don't ring, I'll let myself out."

Gardener walked to the door and opened it. Nigel paused to collect his cigarette-case, which had slipped into a crevice of his chair. That was why Stephanie Vaughan didn't see him as she came to the door.