“Ping.”
“That must have rocked them.” Alleyn said.
“ ’Can say that again. What a turn-up! Oh, dear!”
“How did you do it? Just like that? With your mouth?”
The house-surgeon stirred restively. The sister gave a starched little cough.
“Do you mind,” Trevor said. “My mum plays the old steely,” he added, and then, with a puzzled look: “Hey! Was that when I got knocked out or something! Was it?”
“That was a bit later. You had a fall. Can you remember where you went after you banged the stage-door?”
“No,” he said impatiently. He sighed and shut his eyes. “Do me a favour and pack it up, will you?” he said and went to sleep again.
“I’m afraid that’s it,” said the house-surgeon.
Alleyn said : “May I have a word with you?”
“Oh, certainly. Yes, of course. Carry on, Sister, will you? He’s quite all right”
Alleyn said, “Stick it out, Grantley.”
The house-surgeon led him into an office at the entrance to the ward. He was a young man and, although he observed a markedly professional attitude, he was clearly intrigued by the situation.
“Look here,” Alleyn said, “I want you to give me your cold-blooded, considered opinion. You tell me the boy is unlikely to remember what happened just before he went overboard. I gather he may recall events up to within a few minutes of the fall?”
“He may, yes. The length of the ‘lost’ period can vary.”
“Did you think he was on the edge of remembering a little further just now?”
“One can’t say. One got the impression that he hadn’t the energy to try and remember.”
“Do you think that if he were faced with the person whom he saw attacking the caretaker, he would recognize him and remember what he saw?”
“I don’t know. I’m not a specialist in amnesia or the after-effects of cranial injury. You should ask someone who is.” The doctor hesitated and then said slowly: “You mean would the shock of seeing the assailant stimulate the boy’s memory?”
“Not of the assault upon himself but of the earlier assault upon Jobbins which may be on the fringe of his recollection—which may lie just this side of the blackout.”
“I can’t give you an answer to that one.”
“Will you move the boy into a separate room—say tomorrow—and allow him to see three—perhaps four—visitors: one after another? For five minutes each.”
“No. I’m sorry. Not yet.”
“Look,” Alleyn said, “can it really do any harm? Really?”
“I have not the authority.”
“Who has?”
The house-surgeon breathed an Olympian name.
“Is he in the hospital? Now?”
The house-surgeon looked at his watch.
“There’s been a board meeting. He may be in his room.”
“I’ll beard him there. Where is it?”
“Yes, but look here—”
“God bless my soul,” Alleyn ejaculated. “I’ll rant as well as he. Lead me to him.”
“Ten past four,” Alleyn said, checking with Big Ben. “Let’s do a bit of stocktaking.” They had returned to the car.
“You got it fixed up for this show with the boy, Mr. Alleyn?”
“Oh, yes. The great panjandrum turned out to be very mild and a former acquaintance. An instance, I’m afraid, of Harry Grove’s detested old-boymanship. I must say I see Harry’s point. We went to the ward and he inspected young Trevor who was awake, as bright as a button, extremely full of himself and demanding a nice dinner. The expert decided in our favour. We may arrange the visits for tomorrow at noon. Out of visiting hours. We’ll get Peregrine Jay to call the actors and arrange the timetable. I don’t want us to come into it at this juncture. We’ll just occur at the event. Jay is to tell them the truth: that the boy can’t remember what happened and that it’s hoped the encounters with the rest of the cast may set up some chain of association that could lead to a recovery of memory.”
“One of them won’t fancy that idea.”
“No. But it wouldn’t do to refuse.”
“The nerve might crack. There might be a bolt. With that sort of temperament,” Fox said, “you can’t tell what may happen. Still, we’re well provided.”
“If anybody’s nerve cracks it won’t be Miss Destiny Meade’s. What did you make of that scene in her flat, Fox?”
“Welclass="underline" to begin with, the lady was very much put out by my being there. In my view, Mr. Alleyn, she didn’t fancy police protection within the meaning of the code to anything like the extent that she fancied it coming in a personal way from yourself. Talk about the go-ahead signal! It was hung out like the week’s wash,” said Mr. Fox.
“Control yourself, Fox.”
“Now, on what she said we only missed Mr. Knight by seconds. She makes out he rang up and abused her to such an extent that she decided to call you and that he walked in while she was still talking to you.”
“Yes. And they went bang off into a roaring row which culminated in him handing her a tuppenny one to the jaw after which he flung out and we, within a couple of minutes minced in.”
“No thought in her mind, it appears,” Fox suggested, “of ringing Mr. Grove up to come and protect her. Only you.”
“I daresay she’s doing that very thing at this moment. I must say, I hope he knows how to cope with her.”
“Only one thing to do with that type of lady,” Fox said, “and I don’t mean a tuppenny one on the jaw. He’ll cope.”
“We’ll be talking to Conducis in half an hour, Fox, and it’s going to be tricky.”
“I should damn well think so,” Fox warmly agreed. “What with orchids and her just seeing him quietly from time to time. Hi!” he ejaculated. “Would Mr. Grove know about Mr. Conducis and would Mr. Conducis know about Mr. Grove?”
“Who is, remember, his distant relation. Search me, Fox. The thing at the moment seems to be that Knight knows about them both and acts accordingly. Big stuff.”
“How a gang like this hangs together beats me. You’d think the resignations’d be falling in like autumn leaves. What they always tell you, I suppose,” Fox said. “The Show Must Go On.”
“And it happens to be a highly successful show with fat parts and much prestige. But I should think that even they won’t be able to sustain the racket indefinitely at this pitch.”
“Why are we going to see Mr. Conducis, I ask myself. How do we shape up to him? Does he matter, as far as the case is concerned?”
“In so far as he was in the theatre and knows the combination, yes.”
“I suppose so.”
“I thought him an exceedingly rum personage, Fox. A cold fish and yet a far from insensitive fish. No indication of any background other than wealth, or of any particular race. He carries a British passport. He inherited one fortune and made Lord knows how many more, each about a hundred per cent fatter than the last. He’s spent most of his time abroad and a lot of it in the Kalliope, until she was cut in half in a heavy fog under his feet. That was six years ago. What did you make of Jay’s account of the menu card?”
“Rather surprising if he’s right. Rather a coincidence, two of our names cropping up in that direction.”
“We can check the passenger list with the records; But if s not really a coincidence. People in Conducis’s world tend to move about expensively in a tight group. There was, of course, an inquiry after the disaster and Conducis was reported to be unable to appear. He was in a nursing home on the Cote d’Azur suffering from exhaustion, exposure and severe shock.”