"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?"
"Why, man, I’d have given . . ." Silverdale broke out. Then he stopped short in mid-sentence. "It’s my candid opinion, as you put it," he ended tamely.
Flamborough, it seemed, had extracted the information he wanted. He left the subject and took up a fresh one.
"Do you recall anything important which happened in the year 1925?"
"Yes, I left London and took up my post here."
"You were married in 1923, weren’t you?"
"Yes."
"Had your wife any relations in this country? She was French, wasn’t she?"
"She had a brother, Octave Renard, who was in business in London. Still is, as a matter of fact. An old aunt is the only other relation I know of."
"Before you left London, had you any difficulties with Mrs. Silverdale—I mean anything like young Hassendean?"
"Nothing that came to my notice," Silverdale answered, after consulting his memory.
"Can you recall any friend of yours or of hers who had the initial B? Either in the Christian name or the surname, I mean. It might be either a man or a woman."
This question evidently surprised Silverdale.
"The initial B?" he repeated. "No. I can’t recall anyone to fit that."
He seemed to be running over a list of people in his mind, but at the end of half-a-minute he shook his head decidedly.
"No. I can’t think of anyone with that initial."
Flamborough’s face betrayed his dissatisfaction. He had evidently built some hopes on getting the information.
"Now, another point, Dr. Silverdale. Have you any reason to suppose that Mrs. Silverdale was addicted to drugs?"
This time, Silverdale’s surprise at the question was quite unfeigned:
"Drugs? Of course not! Unless you count cocktails as drugs. What on earth put that into your mind?"
The Inspector rather shamefacedly abandoned this line of inquiry, and turned to something else.
"I’d like to hear anything you can tell me about young Hassendean, sir. He worked here in the Institute, didn’t he?"
"That depends a good deal on what precise meaning you attach to the word ‘work,’ Inspector. He certainly loafed about the premises, but he did as little as he could."
"Well," said Flamborough, impatiently, "can you tell me anything else about him? Everyone I’ve interviewed yet has told me he was idle. I’d rather have something more to the point."
Silverdale thought for a moment or two.
"He was a nuisance from the start. When he came here first—some three years ago—he spent his time hanging round one of the girl-assistants: Miss Hailsham. He interfered with her work, and I had to speak to him about it several times. Then she got engaged to him. Some time after, my wife took him up, and he broke off his engagement to Miss Hailsham—possibly to please my wife. I remember it made things rather unpleasant here when the engagement was broken, because Miss Hailsham took it rather badly. She’d every reason to do so, though she wasn’t losing much, it seemed to me."
Inspector Flamborough pricked up his ears at this information.
"Is this Miss Hailsham still an assistant here?" he asked.
"Yes," Silverdale explained. "She’s one of my private assistants. I have several girls who do routine work; but Miss Hailsham and Miss Deepcar—the girl who came in here a moment ago—are a shade better than the usual run."
"Could you make an excuse to let me have a look at Miss Hailsham?" Flamborough inquired.
"She’s not here to-day," Silverdale answered. "Off with a sore throat, or something of that sort. But if you’ll come back another time, I can take you to her room if you wish. You can pose as a visitor whom I’m showing round, if you don’t want to appear officially."
"Very good, sir. I’ll drop in some other day. Now, another point, if you don’t mind. Mrs. Silverdale wore a signet ring. Can you tell me anything about it? Did she get it from you or did she buy it herself?"
