Something enormous that flashed down among them, jolting the table. Valerie Gaynes screaming. Broken glass and the smell of champagne. Champagne flowing over the white cloth. A thing like an enormous billiard ball embedded in the fern. Red in the champagne. And Valerie Gaynes, screaming, screaming. Carolyn, her arm still raised, looking down. Himself, his voice, telling them to go away, telling Hambledon to take Carolyn away.

“Take her away, take her away.”

And Hambledon: “Come away. Carolyn, come away.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Intermezzo

“NO, DON’T MOVE him,” said Alleyn.

He laid a hand on Hambledon’s arm. Dr. Te Pohika, his bronze fingers still touching the top of Meyer’s head, looked fixedly at Alleyn.

“Why not?” asked Hambledon.

George Mason raised his head. Ever since they had got rid of the others Mason had sat at the end of the long table with his face buried in his arms. Ted Gascoigne stood beside Mason. He repeated over and over again:

“It was as safe as houses. Someone’s monkeyed with it. We rehearsed it twelve times this morning. I tell you there’s been some funny business, George. My God, George, there’s been some funny business.”

“Why not?” repeated Hambledon. “Why not move him?”

“Because,” said Alleyn, “Mr. Gascoigne may be right.”

George Mason spoke for the first time.

“But who’d want to hurt him? Old Alf! He hasn’t an enemy in the world.” He turned a woebegone face to Te Pokiha.

“You’re sure, Doctor, he’s—he’s—gone?”

“You can see for yourself, Mr. Mason,” said Te Pokiha; “the neck is broken.”

“I don’t want to,” said Mason, looking sick.

“What ought we to do?” asked Gascoigne. They all turned to Alleyn. “Do I exude C.I.D.?” wondered Alleyn to himself, “or has Hambledon blown the gaff?”

“I’m afraid you must ring up the nearest police station,” he said aloud. There was an instant outcry from Gascoigne and Mason.

“Good God, the police!”

“What the hell!”

“…but it was an accident!”

“That’d be finish!”

“I’m afraid Mr. Alleyn’s right,” said Te Pokiha; “it is a matter for the police. If you like I’ll ring up. I know the superintendent in Middleton.”

“While you’re about it,” said Mason with desperate irony, “you might ring up a shipping office. As far as this tour’s concerned—”

“Finish!” said Gascoigne.

“We’ve got to do something about it, Ted,” said Hambledon quietly.

“We built it up between us,” said Mason suddenly. “When I first met Alf he was advancing a No. 4 company in St. Helens. I was selling tickets for the worst show in England. We never looked back. We’ve never had a nasty word, never. And look at the business we’ve built up.” His lips trembled. “By God, if someone’s killed him—you’re right, Hailey. I’m—I’m all anyhow—you fix it, Ted. I’m all anyhow.”