“Well, and then he walked in. And I stayed on the outside of the door. He didn’t tell me to, but I reckoned if I stayed out he’d get them to talk. I left the door a crack open and I walked noisily away and then quiet back again. I dunno what old Sam Wade would ’uv said if he’d come along. He’d ’uv gone horribly crook at me for not staying inside. Well, as soon as the Chief walks in they all start in squealing. ‘Oh, Mr. Alleyn, what’s happening? Oh, Mr. Alleyn, what’s the matter?’ The girl Gaynes—Valerie Gaynes. You know—”

“She’s the one that wore that corking dress in the play. I think she’s lovely.”

“She makes me tired. She started squealing about the disgraceful way she’d been treated, and how she’d write to her old man and complain, and how they’d never dream of shutting her up like this in England, and how she reckoned the police in this country didn’t know the way to behave. Give you a pain in the neck, dinkum, she would. Well, as I was telling you.”

Packer told his girl many times of this scene.

The fact of the matter was that Alleyn got an unpleasant shock when he walked into the wardrobe-room. He suddenly remembered that, during that night in the train, Carolyn had told Valerie Gaynes he was a C.I.D. official, and here was Valerie Gaynes rushing at him with complaints about the New Zealand police, about the way she was being treated. Any moment she might give the show away. He glanced at Carolyn. She called Miss Gaynes, murmured something in her ear, and drew her down beside her.

“Oh!” said Valerie Gaynes flatly. “Well, I think—”

“Of course you do,” said Carolyn quickly, “but if you could manage not to talk quite so much, darling, it would be such a good idea.’

“But, Miss Dacres—”

“Yes, darling, but do you know, I think if I were you, I should. Just go all muted—like you did over your money, do you remember, when Mr. Alleyn offered to look at your note-case.”

Valerie Gaynes suddenly sat down.

“That’s right, darling,” said Carolyn jerkily. “Come and sit down, Mr. Alleyn. It seems we are all to be shut up in here while they find out whether my poor Pooh was—whether it was all an accident or not.”

Her voice was pitched a note too high and her hands moved restlessly in her lap.

“That’s the idea, I believe,” said Alleyn.

“What are they doing out there?” asked little Ackroyd peevishly.

“How much longer—”

“Mr. Alleyn, can you tell us—”

They all began again.

“I know no more than you do,” said Alleyn, at last. “I believe they propose to interview us all, singly. I’ve just had my dose. I got ticked off for loitering.”