“Now, Dr. Silverdale,” Flamborough went on, “this is a very nasty business, and I don't mind admitting that we're in the dark just now. Can you think of anything which might connect the deaths of the maid and Mrs. Silverdale?”
Silverdale stared at the floor for a time, as though turning possibilities over in his mind.
“I can't imagine how there could be any connection whatever,” he said at last.
Flamborough decided to approach the most awkward part of his subject. It was impossible to tell from his manner what was coming next, but it was clear that he had something important to ask.
“Now, Dr. Silverdale, I want to be as tactful as I can; but if I go over the score, I hope you'll take the will for the deed.”
“Oh, you can be as blunt as you like,” Silverdale retorted, with the first signs of impatience which he had shown. “Ask what you choose.”
“Thanks,” the Inspector answered with apparent relief. “Then I'll come straight to the point. What precisely were the relations existing between Mrs. Silverdale and young Hassendean?”
Silverdale's face paled slightly and his lips tightened as this blunt response to his offer fell on his ears. He seemed to consider his reply carefully.
“I suppose you mean: ‘Was she unfaithful to me with young Hassendean?’ Then my answer would be: ‘So far as my information goes, no.’ She flirted with the young cub certainly; and they behaved, to my mind, very injudiciously; but to the best of my knowledge it went no further than that. I'd have brought them up with a round turn if they'd given me cause.”
“That's your candid opinion?” the Inspector demanded. “You're keeping back nothing?”