“Kazmah!” shouted Kerry. “Excuse me, miss, but I see I’ve been wearing blinkers without knowing it! Kazmah’s was a dope-shop?” “That has been my belief for a long time, Inspector. I may add that I have never been able to obtain a shred of evidence to prove it. I am so keenly interested in seeing the people who pander to this horrible vice unmasked and dealt with as they merit, that I have tried many times to find out if my suspicion was correct.” Inspector Kerry was writhing his shoulders excitedly. “Did you ever visit Kazmah?” he asked. “Yes. I asked Rita Irvin to take me, but she refused, and I could see that the request embarrassed her. So I went alone.” “Describe exactly what took place.” Margaret Halley stared reflectively at the blotting-pad for a moment, and then described a typical seance at Kazmah’s. In conclusion: “As I came away,” she said, “I bought a bottle of every kind of perfume on sale, some of the incense, and also a box of sweetmeat; but they all proved to be perfectly harmless. I analyzed them.” Kerry’s eyes glistened with admiration. “We could do with you at the Yard, miss,” he said. “Excuse me for saying so.” Margaret smiled rather wanly. “Now—this man Kazmah,” resumed the Chief Inspector. “Did you ever see him again?” “Never. I have been trying for months and months to find out who he is.” Kerry’s face became very grim. “About ten trained men are trying to find that out at the present moment!” he rapped. “Do you think he wore a make-up?” “He may have done so,” Margaret admitted. “But his features were obviously undisguised, and his eyes one would recognize anywhere. They were larger than any human eyes I have ever seen.” “He couldn’t have been the Egyptian who looked after the shop, for instance?” “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.”