"It seems," Sir Clinton went on, "that the late Mr. Whalley came up to the car and found a man and a girl in the front seat. The girl seemed to be in an abnormal state; and Mr. Whalley, from his limited experience, inferred that she was intoxicated. The man, Whalley thought, had stopped the car to straighten her in the seat and make her look less conspicuous; but as soon as Whalley appeared out of the night, the man started the car again and drove slowly past him towards the bungalow."
Sir Clinton mechanically smoothed out his papers, glanced at them, and then continued:
"The police can’t always choose their instruments, Dr. Markfield. We have to take witnesses where we can get them. Frankly, then, the late Mr. Whalley was not an admirable character—far from it. He’d come upon a man and a girl alone in a car, and the girl was apparently not in a fit state to look after herself. An affair of this sort would bring two ideas into Mr. Whalley’s mind. Clothing them in vulgar language, they’d be: ‘Here’s a bit o’ fun, my word!’ and ‘What is there in it for me?’ He had a foible for trading on the weaknesses of his fellow-creatures, you understand?"
Markfield nodded grimly, but made no audible comment.
"The late Mr. Whalley, then, stared after the car; and, to his joy, no doubt, he saw it turn in at the gate of the bungalow. He guessed the place was empty, since there hadn’t been a light showing in it when he passed it a minute or two before. Not much need to analyse Mr. Whalley’s ideas in detail, is there? He made up his mind that a situation of this sort promised him some fun after his own heart, quite apart from any little financial pickings he might make out of it later on, if he were lucky. So he made his best pace after the car."
Sir Clinton turned over a page of the notes before him and, glancing at the document, knitted his brows slightly.
"The late Mr. Whalley wasn’t a perfect witness of course, and I’m inclined to think that at this point I can supply a missing detail in the story. A second car came on the scene round about this period—a car driving in towards town—and it must have met the car with the man and the girl in it just about this time. But that’s not in Mr. Whalley’s statement. It’s only a surmise of my own, and not really essential."
Inspector Flamborough had been growing more and more puzzled as this narrative unfolded. He could not imagine how the Chief Constable had accumulated all this information. Suddenly the explanation crossed his mind.
"Lord! He’s bluffing! He’s trying to persuade Markfield that we know all about it already. These are just inferences of his; and he’s put the double bluff on Markfield by pretending that Whalley’s statement wasn’t quite full and that he’s filling the gap with a guess of his own. What a nerve!" he commented to himself.
"By the time the late Mr. Whalley reached the bungalow gate," Sir Clinton pursued, "the man had got the girl out of the car and both of them had gone into the house. Mr. Whalley, it seems, went gingerly up the approach, and, as he did so, alight went on in one of the front rooms of the bungalow. The curtains were drawn. The late Mr. Whalley, with an eye to future profit, took the precaution of noting the number of the motor, which was standing at the front door."
Flamborough glanced at Markfield to see what effect Sir Clinton was producing. To his surprise, the chemist seemed in no way perturbed. With a gesture as though asking permission, he leaned over and ran a little of the liquid from the funnel into the flask, shook the mixture gently for a moment or two, and then turned back to Sir Clinton. The Inspector, watching keenly, could see no tremor in his hand as he carried out the operations.
"The late Mr. Whalley," Sir Clinton continued, when Markfield had finished his work. "The late Mr. Whalley did not care about hanging round the front of the bungalow. If he stood in front of the lighted window, anyone passing on the road would be able to see him outlined against the glare; and that might have led to difficulties. So he passed round to the second window of the same room, which looked out on the side of the bungalow and was therefore not so conspicuous from the road. Just as he turned the corner of the building, he heard a second car stop at the gate."
Sir Clinton paused here, as though undecided about the next part of his narrative. He glanced at Markfield, apparently to see whether he was paying attention; then he proceeded.
"The late Mr. Whalley tip-toed along to this side-window of the lighted room, and, much to his delight, I’ve no doubt, he found that the curtains had been carelessly drawn, so that a chink was left between them through which he could peep into the room. He stepped on to the flower-bed, bent down, and peered through the aperture. I hope I make myself clear, Dr. Markfield?"
"Quite," said Markfield curtly.
Sir Clinton nodded in acknowledgment, glanced once more at his papers as though to refresh his memory, and continued:
