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Chan sadly shook his head. “I had nothing but plenty good sleep. And you?”

The other smiled. “I’m afraid I weakly fell into a dreamless slumber too. No—I have thought hard, but I’m afraid I can’t help you much. There are so many possibilities. Shall we go over them? Rita and Wilkie Ballou. Both in Hollywood at the time of Denny Mayo’s death. Mayo was said to be a bit careless with the ladies—and it is clear that Ballou is a notably jealous man.”

“I think about Ballou,” remarked Chan slowly.

“It might pay,” Tarneverro agreed. “He was wandering about—came into the living-room to get a cigarette—claims he stayed there. Turning from him for the time being, there’s Alan Jaynes. His state of mind was rather emotional last night. Who knows anything about him? Suppose that like that of Ballou, his is a wildly jealous nature. He saw those flowers—not his—on the shoulder of the woman he loved. We found them trampled under foot, as though in rage. The Mayo affair, as I believe you pointed out, may have had nothing to do with Miss Fane’s murder, after all. Perhaps it was just a case of mad unreasoning jealousy——”

“Perhaps,” answered Chan calmly. “There is also Martino.”

“Yes—Martino,” repeated the fortune-teller. A black look swept across his handsome face. “It would give me great pleasure to help you pin this thing on him. He has made some very rude remarks about me——”

“What sort of man you call him?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, he seems to have brains,” Tarneverro ad-