The Chief Constable declined to be drawn into a general discussion on the Universe.
“I am afraid it is scarcely a matter for the police, Mr. Renard. Wills hardly fall into our province, you know, unless a case of forgery turns up; and in this case there's nothing of that sort. The only advice I could give you would be to consult a lawyer, but as you've already had the legal position made clear, I don't see that there's anything to be done.”
Inspector Flamborough took his cue and, without more ado he hinted to Renard very plainly that enough time had been spent on the matter. At length the little Frenchman withdrew, leaving the two officials together.
“I don't much care for his way of telling his story, sir,” Flamborough remarked, “but I'm not sure, if I were in his shoes, that I wouldn't feel much the same as he seems to do. It must be a bit galling to lose £12,000 by a few hours’ delay. And he's quite reasonably suspicious, evidently.”
Sir Clinton refused to be drawn.
“Don't let's be too much influenced by the stop press news, Inspector. Renard's evidence is the latest we have; but that adds nothing to its value, remember. Look at the case as a whole and try to reckon up the people who could conceivably gain anything by the crime. Then you can assess the probabilities in each case—apart altogether from the order in which the facts have come to light.”
The Inspector had evidently considered the matter already from this stand-point. He hardly paused before offering his views.
“Well, sir, if you ask me, Silverdale had at least two sound motives for committing murder. By getting his wife out of the way, he opened the road to a marriage with the Deepcar girl, whom he's obviously keen on. Also, if Renard's story's true, the death of his wife at that particular juncture put £12,000 into his pocket, which he'd have lost if Mrs. Silverdale had lived a day or two longer.”
“One has to admit that he hadn't evidence to get a divorce, which would have been an obvious alternative to murder,” Sir Clinton acknowledged. “And the cash affair makes the death of Mrs. Silverdale peculiarly opportune. It's no use burking the plain fact that either money or a woman might tempt a man to murder; and when you've got both of them together, one can't brush them aside cavalierly. But go on with your list, Inspector.”
“There's that money-lender, Spratton,” Flamborough pursued. “If young Hassendean's death can be proved to be a murder, then Spratton lifts some thousands out of the pocket of the insurance company in return for the payment of a single premium. That's a motive, certainly.”