Te Pokiha put out his thin dark hand as though to take up the tiki. Then he paused and drew back his hand.

“The demi-god Tiki was the father of mankind. These little symbols are named after him. They do not actually represent him but rather the human embryo and the fructifying force in mankind. The ornament and carving is purely phallic. I know something of the history of this tiki. It was tapu. Do you know what that means?”

“Sacred? Untouchable?”

“Yes. Long ago it was dropped from the breast of a woman in a very tapu place, a meeting-house, and remained there, unnoticed, for a long time. It therefore became tapu itself. The meeting-house was burned to the ground and a pakeha found and kept the tiki, afterwards telling where he had found it. My grandfather would have said that this in itself was a desecration, a pollution. The pakeha, not long afterwards, was drowned in attempting to ford a river. The tiki was found in his pocket and given, by his son, to the father of the man from whom you have bought it. Your man was once a very prosperous run-holder, but lost almost everything during the depression. Hence his desire to sell the tiki.”

“Miss Gaynes has repeatedly expressed her opinion that the tiki is unlucky,” said Alleyn dryly. “It seems that she is right. What would your grandfather have thought of the reception they gave it last night? Poor little Meyer was very facetious, wasn’t he, pretending to say his prayers to it?”

“Not only facetious but ill-bred,” said Te Pokiha quietly.

“I felt rather ashamed of my compatriots, Dr. Te Pokiha, and, as I told you at the time, I regretted my impulse.”

“You need not regret it. The tiki is revenged.”

“Very much so. I shall ask Miss Dacres to return it to me, I think.”

Te Pokiha looked at him, hesitated a moment and then said: “I do not think she need fear it.”

“Tell me,” said Alleyn, “if it’s not an impertinent question, do you yourself feel anything of—well, anything of what your ancestors would have felt in regard to this coincidence?”

There was a long pause.

“Naturally,” said Te Pokiha, at last, “I do not feel exactly as a European would feel about the tiki. What do your gipsies say? ‘You have to dig deep to bury your daddy.’”

“Yes,” murmured Alleyn, “I suppose you do.”

“I hear you are working personally on the case,” said Te Pokiha after another silence. “May one ask if you feel confident that the murderer will be found?”

“Yes, I am confident.”

“That is excellent,” said Te Pokiha, tranquilly.

“It is simply a question of eliminating the impossible. And, by the way, you can help us there.”

“Can I? In what way?”