He glanced at his watch.
“Half-past five. We may be able to get hold of her.”
He picked up the telephone from his desk and asked for a number while Flamborough waited with interest to hear the result.
“Is that the Croft-Thornton Institute?” Sir Clinton demanded at length. “Sir Clinton Driffield speaking. Can you ask Miss Hailsham to come to the telephone?”
There was a pause before he spoke once more.
“Miss Hailsham? I'm sorry to trouble you, but can you tell me if there's a microphotographic camera in the Institute? I'd like to know.”
Flamborough, all ears, waited for the next bit of the one-sided conversation which was reaching him.
“You have two of them? Then I suppose I might be able to get permission to use one of them, perhaps, if we need it. . . . Thanks, indeed. By the way, I suppose you're just leaving the Institute now. . . . I thought so. Very lucky I didn't miss you by a minute or two. I mustn't detain you. Thanks again. Good-bye.”
He put down the telephone and turned to Flamborough.
“You might ask Miss Morcott to come here, Inspector.”