“I shouldn't be surprised, knowing him as I did. He would have put a saint's back up with his bounce and impertinence. But if you mean a grudge big enough to lead to murder, I can't say. I saw as little of him as possible even in working hours, and I had no interest in his private affairs.”
It was quite evident that nothing of real value was to be elicited along this line. The Inspector abandoned the subject of young Hassendean's personality and turned to a fresh field.
“Young Hassendean smoked cigarettes, didn't he?”
“I've seen him smoking them.”
“Is this his holder, by any chance?”
Flamborough produced the fly-in-amber holder as he spoke and laid it on the table. As he did so, he glanced at Markfield's face and was surprised to see the swift change of expression on it. A flash of amazement followed by something that looked like dismay, crossed his features; then, almost instantaneously, he composed himself, and only a faint trace of misgiving showed in his eyes.
“No, that isn't young Hassendean's holder,” he answered.
“You recognise it?”
Markfield bent forward to inspect the article, but it was evident that he knew it well.
“Do I need to answer these questions of yours?” he demanded, uncomfortably.