"I didn’t make her a present of it," Silverdale answered promptly. "I believe she got it made by some jeweller or other. I remember a few years ago she took it into her head to seal all her letters—some passing fad in the crowd she used to associate with, I suppose. But once she started doing it, she kept it up. I think she must have got the signet ring made for that purpose."
Inspector Flamborough nodded thoughtfully as though he attached some importance to this information. Then, in a casual tone he inquired:
"You weren’t at home last night, of course? Where were you?"
"I was—"
Suddenly a thought seemed to cross Silverdale’s mind and he halted abruptly in his sentence. Then he amended his statement most obviously.
"I spent the night working here."
Inspector Flamborough noted the words in his pocket-book with marked deliberation. Then he looked round the room and seemed dissatisfied with something. As though to give himself time to think before asking another question, he moved over to the window and gazed down thoughtfully into the main thoroughfare below. Whatever his reflections may have been, the result of them was singularly feeble. He turned back to Silverdale and put a final question:
"I suppose you can’t think of any other point that might help us to throw light on this business, sir?"
Silverdale shook his head decidedly.
"I’m quite in the dark about it all."
The Inspector looked him up and down deliberately for a moment.
"Well, in that case, sir, I don’t think we need take up any more of your time. I’ll remove the police from your house. It’s been disinfected already by the sanitary people, so you can go back there any time you choose, now. Thanks for the help you’ve given us."
Flamborough did not speak to Sir Clinton until they had put the length of a corridor between themselves and Silverdale’s laboratory.
"I think I’ll drop in and see Dr. Markfield again, sir," he explained. "I’m not at all satisfied about some things."
"Do so, Inspector. I quite agree with you!"
"I’ll make an excuse about the arrangements for this analysis. Not that I’ll lay much stress on Markfield’s results when we get them, sir. He’s made a bad impression on me over that evidence he gave us before. People shouldn’t equivocate in a murder case merely to shield their friends. We’ve troubles enough without that sort of thing."
"Well, handle him tactfully, Inspector, or he may turn stubborn. If he takes refuge in ‘I don’t remember,’ or anything of that sort, you’ll not get much out of him." Sir Clinton observed.
"I shan’t frighten him," Flamborough assured him, as they approached Markfield’s room.
As they entered, Markfield looked up in surprise at seeing them once more.
"It’s just occurred to me that I forgot to make arrangements about handing that stuff over to you for analysis," Flamborough said, as he went forward. "It’ll be in sealed jars, of course; and I’d prefer to hand it over to you personally. I suppose I could always get hold of you either here or at your house?"
"You’d better come here. My housekeeper’s away just now nursing some relation who’s down with ’flu, and my house is empty except when I happen to be at home myself. You’ll find me here between nine in the morning and six at night—except for lunch-time, of course. I generally clear out of here at six and dine down town."
"I suppose you have a long enough day of it," the Inspector said in a casual tone. "You don’t come back here and work in the evening?"
"Sometimes, if there’s something interesting that brings me back. But I haven’t done that for weeks past."
"This place is shut up at night, isn’t it? I mean, you don’t keep a porter or a watchman on the premises?"
"No. But each of the seniors has a private key, of course. I can get in any time I wish. It’s the same at the Research Station."
The Inspector seemed to be struck by an idea.
"Any valuable stuff on the premises, by any chance?"
"Nothing a thief could make much out of. There’s a thousand or fifteen hundred pounds worth of platinum, dishes, electrodes, and so forth, in the safe. I believe the man on the beat is supposed to give special attention to the place and notify anything suspicious immediately; but I’ve never known anything of the sort to happen."
"Rather a difficult position for our men if the staff can come and go freely at night," the Inspector pointed out. "If a constable sees a light in the window, what’s he to make of it? Does Dr. Silverdale work late often?"
"I really couldn’t tell you."
"You don’t see much of him privately, sir?"
"Very little," Markfield answered. "Only when I run across him by accident down town, like last night."
"You met him, did you?"
"Hardly even that. I happened to drop into the Grosvenor for dinner after I left here. I can’t get meals at home just now unless I cook ’em myself. As I was finishing my coffee, Silverdale came into the dining-room with Miss Deepcar and took a table in the window recess. I didn’t disturb them, and I don’t think they noticed me."
