“I told her that I would prescribe cocaine for her on the distinct understanding that from the first dose she was to place herself under my care for a cure.” “She agreed?” “She agreed. Yesterday afternoon, while I was away at an important case, she came here. Poor Rita!” Margaret’s soft voice trembled. “Look—she left this note.” From a letter-rack she took a square sheet of paper and handed it to the Chief Inspector. He bent his fierce eyes upon the writing—large, irregular and shaky. “‘Dear Margaret,’” he read aloud. “‘Why aren’t you at home? I am wild with pain, and feel I am going mad. Come to me _directly_ you return, and bring enough to keep me alive. I—’, Hullo! there’s no finish!” He glanced up from the page. Margaret Halley’s eyes were dim. “She despaired of my coming and went to Kazmah,” she said. “Can you doubt that that was what she went for?” “No!” snapped Kerry savagely, “I can’t. But do you mean to tell me, Miss Halley, that Mrs. Irvin couldn’t get cocaine anywhere else? I know for a fact that it’s smuggled in regularly, and there’s more than one receiver.” Margaret looked at him strangely. “I know it, too, Inspector,” she said quietly. “Owing to the lack of enterprise on the part of our British drug-houses, even reputable chemists are sometimes dependent upon illicit stock from Japan and America. But do you know that the price of these smuggled drugs has latterly become so high as to be prohibitive in many cases?” “I don’t. What are you driving at, miss?” “At this: Somebody had made a corner in contraband drugs. The most wicked syndicate that ever was formed has got control of the lives of, it may be, thousands of drug-slaves!” Kerry’s teeth closed with a sharp snap. “At last,” he said, “I see where the smart from the Home office comes in.” “The Secretary of State has appointed a special independent commissioner to inquire into this hellish traffic,” replied Margaret quietly. “I am glad to say that I have helped in getting this done by the representations which I have made to my uncle, Lord Wrexborough. But I give you my word, Inspector Kerry, that I have withheld nothing from you any more than from him.” “Him!” snapped Kerry, eyes fiercely ablaze. “From the Home Office representative—before whom I have already given evidence.” Chief Inspector Kerry took up his hat, cane and overall from the chair upon which he had placed them and, his face a savage red mask, bowed with a fine courtesy. He burned to learn particulars; he disdained to obtain them from a woman. “Good morning, Miss Halley,” he said. “I am greatly indebted to you.” He walked stiffly from the room and out of the flat without waiting for a servant to open the door. PART SECOND MRS. SIN CHAPTER XII. THE MAID OF THE MASQUE