"Had time to have a good think about things, haven't you? What made you fly off the handle last night? Bit jumpy, weren't you?" "I can't remember anything about last night," said Stebbins. "Must have been drunk." "Well, I wouldn't altogether say that." Labar's tone was that of friendly disagreement. He stirred a little paper package that lay on the edge of his desk with a long forefinger. "I guess you'd had a shot too much, but it wasn't drink, eh?" "Right oh," agreed the other languidly. "I was doped." "Want me to have that written down?" asked Labar. "You know I may have to use any statement you may make as evidence?" "You've got me. I may as well shoot the whole works." He stretched out a shaking hand and Labar gently removed the package of heroin beyond reach. "Give me just a nip of that and I'll tell you where I got it." "No. You must ask the doctor presently. Now tell me why you didn't skip as you were advised to?" "Advised to?" Stebbins shook his head blankly. Labar held a dirty piece of paper in front of him and read. "The point is full of the greatest possible interest to me. I shall be glad to see you at some time and discuss it in detail. You will of course let me know when you are coming. These things can be settled so much more easily by word of mouth." There was a gleam of intelligence in Stebbins' eyes that swiftly faded to be replaced by a sullen mask of bewilderment. "That's Greek to me," he declared. "I thought you were going to come clean," observed Labar mildly. "Let me remind you of one or two things. I don't know what you've been doing this past eight or nine years, but if you've been going straight you'll get the credit, if you don't try to fool me. Now last night I sent your finger-prints to the Yard and had you looked up. You came out from a three years sentence nine years ago. Before that you had done terms in the States and one or two sentences of hard labour here. All of these are on record. Now this letter." He tapped the paper beneath his hand. "I don't know whether you've forgotten the properties of gum arabic, or whether you were too fuddled yesterday to make use of your knowledge." He breathed on the paper and crossing to the grate scraped up some dust with his fingers and sprinkled it over the letter. Irregular block letters appeared between the lines and he thrust the slip beneath the face of the man. "See that. 'Panjandrum says get out at once. Splits know of your business. Get under cover right away.' Now who sent you that? Who is Panjandrum?" Stebbins puffed hard at his cigarette and his eyebrows drew together in an attempt at concentration. "Guess that was sent to me," he said slowly. "Perhaps someone slipped it to me. I dunno. I must have forgot it. If I'd read it I would have been where you wouldn't have found me." "Who is Panjandrum?" repeated Labar. "Panjandrum. Why! that'll be the boss. I don't know who he is. I've never seen him."