Nigel looked at his notes.

“The full gamut of nervous luxury?” he said.

“That’s it. Unless you feel like experiencing the full gamut of such nervous luxury as police investigations can provide, you will do well to answer my question.”

“He could not afford it,” said Malmsley. “He is practically living on charity.”

“Have you ever treated him to — let us say — to a pipe of opium?”

“I decline to answer this question.”

“You are perfectly within your rights. I shall obtain a search-warrant and examine your effects.”

Malmsley shrank a little in his chair.

“That would be singularly distasteful to me,” he said. “I am fastidious in the matter of guests.”

“Was Garcia one of your guests?”

“And if he was? After all, why should I hesitate? Your methods are singularly transparent, Inspector. You wish to know if I have ever amused myself by exploring the pleasures of opium. I have done so. A friend has given me a very beautiful set in jade and ivory, and I have not been so churlish as to neglect its promise of enjoyment. On the other hand, I have not allowed myself to contract a habit. In point of fact, I have not used half the amount that was given to me. I am not a creature of habit.”

“Did you invite Garcia to smoke opium?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Last Friday afternoon.”

“At last,” said Alleyn. “Where did you smoke your opium?”

“In the studio.”

“Where you were safe from interruption?”

“Where we were more comfortable.”

“You had the six o’clock bus to catch. Surely you felt disinclined to make the trip up to London?”

Malmsley moved restlessly.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “I did not smoke a full pipe. I did not wish to. I merely started one and gave it to Garcia.”

“How many pipes did you give him?”

“Only one.”

“Very well. You will now, if you please, give us an exact account of the manner in which you spent your afternoon. You went to the studio immediately after lunch. Was Garcia there?”

“Yes. He had just got there.”

“How long was it before you gave him opium?”

“My dear Inspector, how should I know? I should imagine it was round about four o’clock.”

“After your conversation about the model and so on?”

“It followed our conversation. We discussed pleasure. That led us to opium.”

“So you went to the house and fetched your jade and ivory paraphernalia?”

“Ah — yes.”

“In your first account you may remember that you told me you did not leave the studio until it was time to change and catch your bus?”

“Did I? Perhaps I did. I suppose I thought that the opium incident would over-excite you.”

“When you finally left the studio,” said Alleyn, “what was Mr. Garcia’s condition?”

“He was very tranquil.”

“Did he speak after he had begun to smoke?”

“Oh, yes. A little.”

“What did he say?”

“He said he was happy.”

“Anything else?”

“He said that there was a way out of all one’s difficulties if one only had the courage to take it. That, I think, was all.”

“Did you take your opium and the pipe back to the house?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“The housemaid had said something about changing the sheets on my bed. I didn’t particularly want to encounter her.”

“Where did you put the things then?”

“In a box under Garcia’s bed.”

“And collected them?”

“This morning before class.”

“Had they been disturbed?”

“I have no idea.”

“Are you sure of that?”

Malmsley moved irritably.

“They were in the box. I simply collected them and took them up to the house.”

“How much opium should there be?”

“I don’t know. I think the jar must be about half full.”

“Do you think Garcia may have smoked again, after you left?”

“Again I have no idea. I should not think so. I haven’t thought of it.”

Alleyn looked curiously at Malmsley.

“I wonder,” he said, “if you realize what you may have done?”

“I am afraid I do not understand.”

“I think you do. Everything you have told me about Mr. Garcia points, almost too startlingly, to one conclusion.”

Malmsley made a sudden and violent gesture of repudiation.

“That is a horrible suggestion,” he said. “I have told you the truth — you have no right to suggest that I have — that I had any other motive, but — but— ”

“I think I appreciate your motives well enough, Mr. Malmsley. For instance, you realised that I should discover the opium in any case if I searched your room. You realised that if Mr. Garcia makes a statement about Friday, he will probably speak of the opium you gave him. You may even have known that a plea of irresponsibility due to the effect of opium might be made in the event of criminal proceedings.”

“Do you mean — if he was tried for murder, that I— I might be implicated? That is monstrous. I refuse to listen to such a suggestion. You must have a very pure mind, Inspector. Only the very pure are capable of such gross conceptions.”

“And only the very foolish attitudinise in the sort of circumstances that have risen round you and what you did on Friday afternoon. Come, Mr. Malmsley, forget your pose for a moment. To my aged perceptions it seems a little as if you were mixing Dorian Grey with one of the second-rate intellectuals of the moment. The result is something that — you must forgive me — does not inspire a policeman with confidence. I tell you quite seriously that you are in a predicament.”

“You suspect Garcia?”

“We suspect everyone and no one at the moment. We note what you have told us and we believe that Garcia was alone in the studio in a semi-drugged condition on Friday evening when we suppose the knife was thrust through the throne. We learn that you drugged him.”

“At his own suggestion,” cried Malmsley.

“Really? Will he agree to that? Or will he say that you persuaded him to smoke opium?”

“He was perfectly ready to do it. He wanted to try. And he only had one pipe. A small amount. He would sleep it off in a few hours. I tell you he was already half asleep when I left.”

“When do you think he would wake?”

“I don’t know. How should I know? The effect varies very much the first time. It is impossible to say. He would be well enough in five hours at all events.”

“Do you think,” said Alleyn very deliberately, “that Garcia set this terrible trap for Sonia Gluck?”

Malmsley was white to the lips.

“I don’t know. I know nothing about it. I thought he must have done it. You have forced me into an intolerable position. If I say I believe he did it — but not because of the opium — I refuse to accept— ”

His voice was shrill, and his lips trembled. He seemed to be near to tears.

“Very well. We shall try to establish your own movements after you left the house. You caught the six o’clock bus?”

Malmsley eagerly gave an account of his week-end. He had attended the private view, had gone on to the Savoy, and to a friend’s flat. They had sat up till three o’clock. He had spent the whole of Saturday with this friend, and with him had gone to a theatre in the evening, and again they had not gone to bed until very late. Alleyn took him through the whole business up to his return on Sunday. Malmsley seemed to be very much shaken.

“Excellent, so far,” said Alleyn. “We shall, of course, verify your statements. I have looked at your illustrations, Mr. Malmsley. They are charming.”

“You shake my pleasure in them,” said Malmsley, rallying a little.

“I particularly liked the picture of the three little men with scythes.”

Malmsley looked sharply at Alleyn but said nothing.

“Have you ever visited Chantilly?” asked Alleyn.

“Never.”

“Then you have not seen Les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry?”

“Never.”

“You have seen reproductions of the illustrations, perhaps?”