"Well, you've stated that art is neither moral nor immoral,” Grayson said. "but in Dorian Gray, you have presented a young man who is utterly immoral, devoted only to his own pleasures and perverse desires, and in the portrait which ages in his stead. you clearly imply that it is not only age which results in the portrait's growing ugliness, but the immoral deeds committed by the ever youthful Gray: evil, as it were, having an obvious malforming effect upon the soul. A very Catholic idea, Mr Wilde, even a very moral one. And in the end of the story, Dorian Gray's sins finally catch up with him and he receives his, just desserts. One might well ask, how can a story be neither moral nor immoral, and yet still have a moral'?"
"Grayson, you positively overwhelm me!" Wilde said, beaming. "I refuse to even try to trump such a refreshingly original review! There is clearly more to you than meets the eye. Would you care to join us'?"
"No, thank you, Mr. Wilde," Grayson said. "I am afraid I have a number of inquiries yet to make."
"Well, then, I shall not waste any more of your time. How may I help you?"
"I understand you are familiar with the company currently playing the Lyceum." Grayson said.
"Henry Irving's production of Becket?" Wilde said. "Indeed, I am. Has there been some sort of trouble?”
"One of the young actresses has died," said Grayson. "A Miss Angeline Crewe. She collapsed on stage last night during a rehearsal. It seems she had not been well. The cause of death has not yet officially been determined and we are merely making some inquiries of her friends and co-workers, purely a routine matter."
"How tragic," Wilde said, "but I fear I did not know that young woman. That is to say, I did not know her very well. She was an understudy, I believe. Rather too prim and proper for an actress. We exchanged greetings on occasion, but that is all."
"Did she seem unwell to you at the time?" said Grayson.
"No, I would not say so," Wilde said. "A bit pale, perhaps, but then she was very fair complected."
"Yes, that would follow," Grayson said. "It seems that she was quite anemic. You would not, by any chance, happen to know if she was a bleeder?"
"Not to my knowledge,” Wilde said.
"Apparently she was keeping company with a certain young man," Grayson said. He consulted his notepad. "A Mr. Hesketh.”
"Tony Hesketh?" Lord Douglas said. surprised.
"Yes, that is the name." said Grayson. "You know the young man?"
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact, I do." said Douglas. Grayson noticed Wilde give Douglas a sidelong look. "I am surprised to hear that he was keeping company with… an actress."
"Friend of yours. Rosie?" said Wilde, a touch too casually.
"I haven't seen him for some time," said Douglas.
"It seems that no one has," said Grayson. "Any idea where I might find him, Lord Douglas?"
Douglas gave an elaborate shrug. "The last time I saw Tony, he was otherwise engaged. Not with an actress. I mean." He said "actress" as if it were a distasteful word. "He was with a dark, Mediterranean looking gentleman."
"Mediterranean?" said Grayson. "Could you describe him?"
"Tall, slim, black hair, swarthy. but in an elegant sort of way," said Douglas. "Well mannered and well dressed. A man of obvious means. He was foreign, a titled gentleman. He was a very striking looking man. I remember he wore a top hat and an opera cape. I do not recall his name."
"When exactly was this, Lord Douglas?" Grayson said. "Oh, I can't be sure," said Douglas. "Two weeks ago, perhaps'! Maybe three."
"And where was this?"
"Why, at the Lyceum," Douglas said.
"You would not, by any chance, happen to know where I could reach this gentleman'?" Grayson said.
"Haven't the faintest," Douglas said.
"Well, if you should happen to see him again, or Mr. Hesketh, perhaps you'd be kind enough to let me know," Grayson said,
Douglas shrugged.
"Something tells me, Inspector Grayson, that this matter is not entirely routine, as you put it." said Wilde. "Do you suspect some sort of foul play in this young woman's death?"