“I did not really notice the car, Inspector,” he said at last. “I was watching the men. I should say that it was certainly a closed car and not a large one; I think it was dark in colour.”
“You did not notice whether it was driven by a man or a woman—or a chauffeur?”
“I’m afraid I didn’t.”
“Did anything strike you about the way it was driven—was it slower than was natural on such a road? Did it go very near the two gentlemen?”
Mr. Smythe shook his head.
“I’m afraid I didn’t notice anything special—it certainly wasn’t going very fast.”
“Would you say it was a saloon, or a coupé, or just an open car with the hood up?”
“I should say certainly not the latter; probably it was a small saloon—but it might have been a coupé. I couldn’t really be sure.”
“Could you swear it was not an open car with the hood up?”
“Not swear, no—I didn’t notice particularly enough; but I have a very strong impression that it was not.”