Markfield, obviously puzzled, went over to a drawer and pulled out a notebook which he passed to the Chief Constable. Again Sir Clinton skimmed over the pages, apparently at random, and then left the second book open beside the first one. Flamborough, determined to miss nothing, examined the exposed page in Markfield's notebook, and was rewarded by this:—
| Weight of U-tube | = | 24.7792 | gms. |
| Weight of U-tube + H₂O | = | 24.9047 | gms. |
| ─────────── | |||
| Weight of H₂O | = | 0.1255 | gms. |
“Damned if I see what he's driving at,” the Inspector said savagely to himself. “It's Greek to me.”
“A careless young fellow,” the Chief Constable pronounced acidly. “My eye caught three blunders in plain arithmetic as I glanced through these notes. There's one on this page here,” he indicated the open book. “He seems to have been a very slapdash sort of person.”
“An unreliable young hound!” was Markfield's slightly intensified description. “It was pure influence that kept him here for more than a week. Old Thornton, who put up most of the money for building this place, was interested in him—knew his father, I think—and so we had to keep the young pup here for fear of rasping old Thornton's feelings. Otherwise. . . .”
The gesture accompanying the aposiopesis expressed Markfield's idea of the fate which would at once have befallen young Hassendean had his protector's influence been withdrawn.
The Chief Constable appeared enlightened by this fresh information.
“I couldn't imagine how you came to let him have the run of the place for so long,” he confessed. “But, of course, as things were, it was evidently cheaper to keep him, even if he did no useful work. One can't afford to alienate one's benefactors.”
After a pause, he continued, reverting apparently to an earlier line of thought:
“Let's see. You made out that something like twelve times the normal dose of hyoscine had been administered?”