"Scotland Yard," he said.

It was not yet four o'clock when he got there, but the chief inspector was in and could see him. He went up at once.

"Hullo, Bathgate," Alleyn said. "What's the matter with you? Found the murderer again?"

"Please don't rag me," Nigel begged him. "It's not a theory I've come to give you. It's a statement."

"Sit down. Now then, what is it?"

"I suppose you won't understand how awful this feels, Alleyn. To you, it's all got to be completely impersonal. I can't feel like that. It's been rather an effort to come to you with this information. That sounds theatrical, I know, but you see—it's a woman."

"What do you mean?" said Alleyn harshly. "What's this information? You say you've got a statement to make—well, make it. I beg your pardon, Bathgate—I'm unbearable these days, aren't I?"

Nigel gulped.

"I've overheard a confession," he said.

Alleyn waited a second, and then took up a pencil.

"When?"

"This afternoon about an hour ago."

"Where?"

"At Felix's flat."

"All right. Go ahead."

"It's soon told. I went up into his little lobby, without knocking and I heard voices in the 'studio' as he calls, it. A woman said: 'If I did, it was for you, Felix. He was your worst enemy.' Felix said: 'I can't believe it. I can't believe it,' and she began to laugh, horribly, and said: 'It was all for nothing. Never mind, I don't regret it. Do you hear that? But I don't think you were worth it.' Then I shut the front door noisily and called out. Felix came and let me in. She was there."

"It was—?"

"Stephanie Vaughan."

"Impossible," said Alleyn fiercely.

"You don't think I could make a mistake over a thing like that, do you? I tell you I'll never forget their voices for as long as I live."

Alleyn was silent for so long that Nigel stared at him in some discomfort. He looked as though he had made a shutter of his face. At last he said:

"After all, Bathgate, this is not conclusive. 'If I did, it was for you. He was your worst enemy.' Suppose she had told Gardener that she had used some threat to Surbonadier, to choke him off, and that she believed she had driven him to suicide? Suppose they were not speaking of Surbonadier?"

"If you had seen Felix you wouldn't suggest that."

"Why—what do you mean?"

"He's a broken man," said Nigel simply.

"A broken man! A broken man! You're getting as stagy as any of them. Barclay Crammer was a 'broken man' in the witness-box this morning, silly old ass."

Nigel got up.

"Well, that's all," he said. "If you don't think it's conclusive, I'm damn' thankful."

Alleyn leant over the desk and looked at him as though he were a museum piece.