“To get my overcoat. I was shivering.”

“How long were you in the dressing-room?”

“About five minutes.”

“Five minutes to fetch a coat?’

“Well—Branny was there.”

“Who’s he?”

“Brandon Vernon—the heavy. I told you we share the dressing-room. Branny had a flask there. We had a nip. Needed it. Frankie came in later and had one, too. Then we all went to the wardrobe-room.”

“To get to the dressing-room, you passed the iron ladder that goes up to the platform?”

“What platform?”

“I think it’s called the grid,” said Alleyn diffidently. “Or is it the flies?”

“Oh,” said Broadhead. “Yes. I suppose we did. It’s just by the dressing-room passage, isn’t it?”

Wade shifted his position and became elaborately casual.

“You didn’t happen to glance up towards the platform at all, I suppose?”

“Good Lord, I don’t know. Why should I?”

“You didn’t get the impression anyone was up there?”

“I didn’t get any impression at all.”

“Did you all leave the stage together—the whole company, I mean, and the guests?”

“Pretty well. Everyone was very quiet. The guests just petered away as soon as they could. We stood for a moment by the entrance to the passage to let Miss Dacres go first. Then we followed.”

“All together?”

“We didn’t make a football scrum of it,” said Broadhead crossly. “It’s a narrow passage.”

“When you got to the wardrobe-room, was everyone there?”

“I wasn’t the last.”

“Who came in after you, Mr. Broadhead?”

“Oh, Lord!” said Broadhead again. “Let’s see. Well, Gascoigne was after me, and Mr. Mason. Susan and Hailey Hambledon came in just before that, I think, with Miss Dacres. I’m not sure. No, by George, Mr. Alleyn was last.”

“Quite right,” agreed Alleyn. “I was a bad last.”

“Well,” said Wade, “I think that’ll be all, sir. If you’ve no objection, I’ll get you to sign these notes later on when they’ve been put into longhand. We’ve got your address. Perhaps you’d look in some time tomorrow morning at the station.”

“Where is it?”

“Hill Street, Mr. Broadhead. Top of Ruru Street. Anyone will direct you.”

“I suppose so. I could ask a policeman. At least he would know that.”

“Good night, Mr. Broadhead,” said Wade coldly.

CHAPTER TEN

The Case Is Wide Open

“I WISH I knew,” said Alleyn when Broadhead had gone, “whether to give myself a kick in the neck or a slap on the back.”

“How’s that, sir?” asked Wade.