But he had to make sure that his chosen key would not break in his hand. Decisively he picked up the telephone and dialled a number. A moment later he said, ‘Yes, I know it’s late. Do we have that firm of investigators still on our books? They helped us on the Lowrey case... Good! I want them to investigate Dr Nicholas Warren MD. Repeat that. It must be done discreetly. Everything there is to know about him, damn it! As fast as possible... a report in three days... oh, damn the expense!... charge it to my private account.’
Absently he picked up the decanter of whisky. ‘And another thing. Get the Research Department to find out all they can about drug smuggling — the drug racket in general. Again, a report in three days... Yes, I’m serious... it might make a good film.’ He paused. ‘Just one thing more; the Research Department mustn’t go near Dr Warren... Yes, they’re quite likely to, but they must steer clear of him — is that understood? Good!’
He put down the telephone and looked at the decanter in some surprise. He laid it down gently and went into his bedroom. For the first time in many years he ignored his normal meticulous procedure of hanging up his clothes and left them strewn about the floor.
Once in bed the tensions left him and his body relaxed. It was only then that the physical expression of his grief came to him and he broke down. Waves of shudders racked his body and this man of fifty-five wet the pillow with his tears.
Two
I
Warren was — and was not — surprised to hear from Hellier again. In the forefront of his mind he wondered what Hellier was after and was almost inclined to refuse to see him. In his experience prolonged post-mortems with the survivors did no one any good in the long run; they merely served to turn guilt into acceptance and, as a moral man, he believed that the guilty should be punished and that selfpunishment was the most severe form.
But in the remote recesses of his mind still lurked the nagging doubt which had been injected by Hellier’s final words and so, somewhat to his surprise, he found himself accepting Hellier’s invitation to meet him in the St James’s flat. This time, oddly enough, he was not averse to meeting Hellier on his own ground — that battle had already been won.
Hellier greeted him with a conventional, ‘It’s very good of you to come, Doctor,’ and led him into a large and softly luxurious room where he was waved courteously to a chair. ‘Drink?’ asked Hellier. ‘Or don’t you?’
Warren smiled. ‘I have all the normal vices. I’d like a Scotch.’
He found himself sipping a whisky so good that it was almost criminal to dilute it with water, and holding one of Hellier’s monogrammed cigarettes. ‘We’re a picturesque lot, we film people,’ said Hellier wryly. ‘Self-advertisement is one of our worst faults.’
Warren looked at the intertwined R H stamped in gold on the handmade cigarette, and suspected that it was not Hellier’s normal style and that he went about it coldbloodedly in what was a conformist industry. He said nothing and waited for Hellier to toss a more reasonable conversational ball.
‘First, I must apologize for the scene I made in your rooms,’ said Hellier.
‘You have already done so,’ said Warren gravely. ‘And in any case, no apology is necessary.’
Hellier settled in a chair facing Warren and put his glass on a low table. ‘I find you are very well thought of in your profession.’
Warren twitched an eyebrow. ‘Indeed!’
‘I’ve been finding out things about the drug racket — I think I have it pretty well taped.’
‘In three days?’ said Warren ironically.
‘In the film industry, by its very nature, there must be an enormous fund of general knowledge. My Research Department is very nearly as good as, say, a newspaper office. If you put enough staff on to a problem you can do a lot in three days.’
Warren let that go and merely nodded.
‘My research staff found that in nearly one-third of their enquiries they were advised to consult you as a leading member of the profession.’
‘They didn’t,’ said Warren succinctly.
Hellier smiled. ‘No, I told them not to. As you said the other day, you’re a very busy man. I didn’t want to disturb you.’
‘I suppose I should thank you,’ said Warren with a straight face.
Hellier squared his shoulders. ‘Dr Warren, let us not fence with each other. I’m putting all my cards on the table. I also had you independently investigated.’
Warren sipped whisky and kept steady eyes on Hellier over the glass. ‘That’s a damned liberty,’ he observed mildly. ‘I suppose I should ask you what you found.’
Hellier held up his hand. ‘Nothing but good, Doctor. You have an enviable reputation both as a man and as a physician, besides being outstanding in the field of drug addiction.’
Warren said satirically, ‘I should like to read that dossier some time — it would be like reading one’s obituary, a chance which comes to few of us.’ He put down his glass. ‘And to what end is all this... this effort on your part?’
‘I wanted to be sure that you are the right man,’ said Hellier seriously.
‘You’re talking in riddles,’ said Warren impatiently. He laughed. ‘Are you going to offer me a job? Technical adviser to a film, perhaps?’
‘Perhaps,’ said Hellier. ‘Let me ask you a question. You are divorced from your wife. Why?’
Warren felt outrage, surprise and shock. He was outraged at the nature of the question; surprised that the urbane Hellier should have asked it; shocked because of the intensive nature of Hellier’s investigation of him. ‘That’s my affair,’ he said coldly.
‘Undoubtedly,’ Hellier studied Warren for a moment. I’ll tell you why your wife divorced you. She didn’t like your association with drug addicts.’
Warren put his hands on the arms of the chair preparatory to rising, and Hellier said sharply, ‘Sit down, man; listen to what I’ve got to say.’
‘It had better be good,’ said Warren, relaxing. ‘I don’t take kindly to conversations of this nature.’
Hellier stubbed out his cigarette and lit another. ‘That tells me more about you than it does about your wife, whom I am not interested in. It tells me that the interests of your profession come ahead of your personal relationships. Are you aware that you are considered to be a fanatic on the subject of drugs?’
‘It has been brought to my attention,’ said Warren stiffly.
Hellier nodded. ‘As you pointed out — and as I have found in my brief study — drug addicts are not the most easy patients. They’re conceited, aggressive, deceitful, vicious, crafty and any other pejorative term you care to apply to them. And yet you persist against all the odds in trying to help them — even to the extent of losing your wife. That seems to me to show a great deal of dedication.’
Warren snorted. ‘Dedication my foot! It’s just what goes with the job. All those vices you’ve just mentioned are symptoms of the general drug syndrome. The addicts are like that because of the drugs, and you can’t just leave them to stew because you don’t like the way they behave.’ He shook his head. ‘Come to the point. I didn’t come here to be admired — especially by you.’
Hellier flushed. ‘I was making a point in my own peculiar way,’ he said. ‘But I’ll come to the nub of it. When I came to see you, you said that the problem was in stopping the inflow of illicit drugs and you said it was an international problem. You were also damned quick to say that you weren’t prepared to jump off to Iran on a crazy adventure.’ He stuck out his finger. ‘I think you know something, Dr Warren; and I think it’s something definite.’