“It’s a very common reaction,” said Alleyn. “Let us see how the theory may be applied to your case. A man was murdered almost under your nose, and instead of screaming like Miss Gaynes, or being sick like Mr. Mason, you found yourself sailing along in a sort of unreal state of stimulation. You felt rather intoxicated and into your mind, with startling insistence, came a little sequence of ideas about Courtney Broadhead. You thought of your discussion with Mr. Liversidge and—an additional fillip—he actually reminded you of it in the passage. Still sailing along, you were seized with the idea of bringing off one of those startling coups, which, unfortunately for us, occur more often in fiction than in police investigations. You would confront Broadhead with his infamy and surprise him into betraying himself. It’s a typical piece of adolescent behaviourism. Very interesting in its way. A projection of the king-of-the-castle phantasy—I forget the psycho-analytical description.”

He paused. Gordon, very red in the face, was silent.

“Well,” continued Alleyn, “when that little affair was over you began to lose speed and come to earth. You had time to think. You tell me that as the others went out, one by one, until only you and Mr. Weston were left under Packer’s eye, you began to get the jim-jams. You got them so badly that when we sent for you, you bolted. I can’t help wondering if there was some additional cause for this—if perhaps you had remembered something that seemed to throw a new light on this crime.”

Still watching the boy, Alleyn thought: “Really, he changes colour like a chameleon. If he goes any whiter he’ll faint.”

“What do you mean?” said Gordon.

“I see I am right. You did remember something. Will you tell me what it was?”

“I don’t even know what you are talking about.”

“Don’t you? It doesn’t seem very difficult. Well, I had better leave it for the moment and ask a few routine questions. Let me see, you came round from the front of the house to the stage as soon as the show was over?”

“Yes.”

“Did you walk straight on to the stage and remain there?”

“Yes.”

“You did not go to any of the dressing-rooms?”

“No. I wanted to go to Carolyn’s room but Ted Gascoigne was stupid about it so I didn’t.”

“Right. After the disaster, when I suggested that you should wait somewhere with your cousin until the police arrived, did you both keep together?”

“We went to the wardrobe-room. Geoff took me there.”

“Right. Now about this tiki. What were you going to say about that when I questioned Miss Dacres in the wardrobe-room?”

“Nothing.”