“Do you happen to know anything about an alkaloid called hyoscine, Miss Hailsham?”
“Hyoscine?” she repeated. “Yes, Avice Deepcar's working on it just now. She's been at it for some time under Dr. Silverdale's direction.”
Flamborough, glancing surreptitiously at Markfield, noted an angry start which the chemist apparently could not suppress. Put on the alert by this, the Inspector reflected that Markfield himself must have had this piece of information, and had refrained from volunteering it.
“I meant as regards its properties,” Sir Clinton interposed. “I'm not an expert in these things like you chemical people.”
“I'm not an alkaloid expert,” Miss Hailsham objected. “All I can remember about it is that it's used in Twilight Sleep.”
“I believe it is, now that you mention it,” Sir Clinton agreed, politely. “By the way, have you a car, Miss Hailsham?”
“Yes. A Morris-Oxford four-seater.”
“A saloon?”
“No, a touring model. Why do you ask?”
“Someone's been asking for information about a car which seems to have knocked a man over on the night of the last fog. You weren't out that night, I suppose, Miss Hailsham?”