“Impossible! He did not remotely resemble him. Besides, the man to whom you refer remained outside to receive other visitors. Oh, that’s out of the question, Inspector.”
“The light was very dim?”
“Very dim indeed, and Kazmah never once raised his head. Indeed, except for a dignified gesture of greeting and one of dismissal, he never moved. His immobility was rather uncanny.”
Kerry began to pace up and down the narrow room, and:
“He bore no resemblance to the late Sir Lucien Pyne, for instance?” he rapped.
Margaret laughed outright and her laughter was so inoffensive and so musical that the Chief Inspector laughed also.
“That’s more hopeless than ever!” she said. “Poor Sir Lucien had strong, harsh features and rather small eyes. He wore a moustache, too. But Sir Lucien, I feel sure, was one of Kazmah’s clients.”
“Ah!” said Kerry. “And what leads you to suppose Miss Halley, that this Kazmah dealt in drugs?”
“Well, you see, Rita Irvin was always going there to buy perfumes, and she frequently sent her maid as well.”
“But”—Kerry stared—“you say that the perfume was harmless.”