The first flush of enthusiasm at his discovery passed from Flamborough's thoughts at the tone of the Chief Constable's voice.
“I suppose you're right, sir,” he had to admit. “But there's another girl who'd have enjoyed the job—and that's the Hailsham girl. She'd have given a good deal just for the pleasure of seeing those two humiliated. She'd have gloated over the chance of giving that particular evidence in court and squaring accounts with young Hassendean and Mrs. Silverdale. It would have been all jam to her, sir. You can't deny that.”
Sir Clinton conceded the point without ado.
“I won't deny it,” he said curtly. “But you needn't let your mind run exclusively on the female population of Westerhaven in a matter of this sort. A man would be a much more convenient witness for Silverdale to take with him. Why leave Silverdale's male friends out of account?”
“If you're thinking of Markfield, sir, we'll not get much out of him, I'm afraid,” Flamborough pronounced. “So far, except when he couldn't help it, he's done his level best to refuse any information about Silverdale and his doings—if he hasn't actually served out misleading statements to us. I don't much care for Dr. Markfield's way of going about things.”
Sir Clinton crossed the room and took down his hat from its peg.
“Well, let's sample his methods once more, Inspector. We'll go round now to the Croft-Thornton and look into the question of the jacket. You can bear the burden of the interview, if you like; but I should prefer to hear what goes on. And you might press Silverdale a little more sharply about his doings on the night of the bungalow affair. We may as well give him a chance of second thoughts, though really I don't expect anything from him at this stage.”
Chapter XIV.
The Jacket
Sir Clinton and the Inspector found Markfield at work in his laboratory when they reached the Croft-Thornton Institute. Flamborough wasted no time in preliminaries, but plunged at once into the business which had brought him there.
“What do you make of that, Dr. Markfield?” he demanded, producing the shred of cloth with the button attached and showing them to the chemist.