“Is he at all insane, do you think?”
“Insane? My dear Inspector, who can define the borders of * abnormality?”
“That is quite true,” said Alleyn patiently. “Would you say that Mr. Garcia is far from being abnormal?”
“Perhaps not.”
“Is he in the habit of taking drugs, do you know?”
Malmsley leant forward and dropped his cigarette on an ash-tray. He examined his jade rings and said:
“I really have no idea.”
“You have never noticed his eyes, for instance?” continued Alleyn, looking very fixedly into Malmsley’s. “One can usually tell, you know, by the eyes.”
“Really?”
“Yes. The pupils are contracted. Later on they occasionally become widely dilated. As you must have observed, Mr. Malmsley, when you have looked in a mirror.”
“You are wonderfully learned, Mr. Alleyn.”
“I ask you if, to your knowledge, Garcia has contracted this habit. I must warn you that a very thorough search will be made of all the rooms in this house. Whether I think it advisable to take further steps in following up evidence that is not relevant to this case, may depend largely upon your answer.”
Malmsley looked quickly from Fox to Nigel.
“These gentlemen are with me on this case,” said Alleyn. “Come now, Mr. Malmsley, unless you wish to indulge the — what was Mr. Malmsley’s remark about nervous enjoyment, Bathgate?”
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.”