“It was all a joke. Meyer took it the wrong way. Look here Mr.—Mr. Nixon—”

“You are speaking to Mr. Alleyn, you know,” said Nixon, placidly.

“Yes, but—well then.” He turned, reluctantly, to Alleyn. “It was this way. You must believe me, I swear I’m telling the truth. I’d been ragging Val about the way she left her money lying about. I said she’d have it pinched. She just laughed. It was when she’d got out some notes to pay her poker debts. I went back to the cabin and I—well, I took out the money and filled up the case with—er—with—er—toilet-paper. Just for a joke to make her more careful. That was all. Honestly. Honestly!”

“Why didn’t you tell Mr. Meyer this?”

“I tried to but he wouldn’t listen,” said Liversidge, moistening his lips. “He’d got no sense of humour.”

“Pity. Why did you prompt young Palmer to accuse Broadhead of the theft?”

“I didn’t—I didn’t mean it that way. I told you. He took me up all wrong. It was all a joke. Can’t you see it was all a joke?”

“I’ve got no sense of humour, either,” said Alleyn, “but I dare say a jury would laugh till they cried.”

“A jury! My God—”

“Now, Mr. Liversidge,” continued Alleyn, composedly, “the inquest on this case will be held tomorrow. Mr. Mason will, of course, be one of the witnesses. As I expect you know—”

“I don’t know anything about inquests,” interrupted Liversidge, in a hurry.

“Then it will be an interesting experience for you. If you’d like to give us a statement—a true statement—of this affair and we find it has no direct bearing on the murder—”

“The murder! My God, I swear—”

“We may possibly not think it necessary to bring it out in evidence. If, on the other hand, you prefer that the whole thing be left until the inquest—”

“I’ll make a statement,” said Liversidge, and did so there and then, signing it, and taking himself off in extreme disorder.

“You gave him a nice thrashing,” said Nixon appreciatively when Liversidge had gone.

“I still think it looks good enough for a warrant,” said Wade. “We’ve got everything, sir; motive, opportunity—everything. Meyer may even have threatened him with exposure.”

“He may,” agreed Alleyn. “You’re quite right, Wade, but all the same I would like to look up Hambledon’s dresser, Bob Parsons. I can’t help feeling his evidence may be very useful. I think we ought to have it before we crystallise on Liversidge.”

“If Liversidge prompted young Palmer to fake this charge against Broadhead,” said Nixon, “it looks as if he’s a more than usual thoroughgoing bad hat.”

“He’s all that,” agreed Alleyn, “but still—”