May 15, 2025 • 18 mins
Penned by Alfred Walter Stewart under the pseudonym J.J. Connington, Case With Nine Solutions introduces us to the astute and highly regarded police professional, Sir Clinton Driffield. Thrust into a tangled web of murder, Driffield and his loyal sidekick, Inspector Flamborough, must sift through nine possible scenarios to uncover the truth. This complex case brings a beguiling temptress, her unsuspecting husband, a clandestine admirer, and a smitten young man into the mix. As the pair delve deeper into the mystery, they navigate a labyrinth of scientific evidence, cryptic messages, and rely on their sharp deductive reasoning skills to solve the murder.
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Speaker 1 (00:00):
Chapter seventeen of the Case with Nine Solutions by J. J. Connington.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, mister Justice.
Just before entering the road in which Markfield lived, Sir
Clinton drew up his car, and as he did so,
a constable in plain clothes stepped forward. Doctor Markfield's and
(00:24):
his house. Sir. He announced he came home just before
dinner time. Sir Clinton nodded, led in his clutch, and
drove round the corner to Markfield's gate. As he stopped
his engine, he glanced at the house front. Note that
his garage is built into the house inspector. He pointed
out that seems of interest if there's a door from
(00:44):
the house directed into the garage. I think They walked
up the short approach and rang the bell. In a
few moments, the door was opened by Markfield's housekeeper, rather
to her surprise. Sir Clinton inquired about the health of
her relation, whom she had been nursing. Oh she's all
right again, sir, Thank you, I got back yesterday. She
(01:05):
paused a moment as though in doubt, then added, I'm
not sure if doctor Markfield is free this evening, Sir,
he's expecting a visitor. We shan't attain him if his
visitor arrived, Sir Clinton assured her his manner, leaving no
doubt in her mind as to the advisability of his
own admission. The housekeeper ushered them into Markfield's sitting room,
(01:25):
where they found him by the fire, deep in a book.
At the sound of Sir Clinton's name, he looked up
with a glance which betrayed his annoyance at being disturbed.
I'm rather at a loss to understand this visit, he
said stiffly. As they came into the room. Sir Clinton
refused to notice the obviously grudging tone of his reception.
We merely wish to have a few minutes talk doctor Markfield,
(01:47):
he explained pleasantly. Some information has come into my hands
which needs confirmation, and I think you'll be able to
help us. Markfield glanced at the clock. I'm in the
middle of an experiment, he said, gruffly. I've got to
run it through now that it started. If you're going
to be long, i'd better bring the things in here
and then I can oversee it while I'm talking to you.
(02:10):
Without waiting for permission, he left the room and came
back in a couple of minutes with a tray on
which stood some apparatus. Blamborough noticed a conical flask containing
some limpid liquid and a stoppered bottle. Markfield clamped a
dropping funnel, also containing a clear liquid, so that its
spout entered the conical flask, and by turning the top
(02:30):
of the funnel slightly, he allowed a little of the
contents to flow down into the flask. I hope the
smell doesn't trouble you, he said, in a tone of
sour apology. It's the triathlamine I'm mixing with the tetranatromethane,
and the flask rather a fishy stink it has. He
arranged the apparatus on the table so that he could
reach the tap conveniently without rising from his chair. Then,
(02:54):
after admitting a little more of the liquid from the
funnel into the flask, he seated himself once more and
gave Sir Clinton his attention. What is it you want
to know, he demanded abruptly. Sir Clinton refused to be hurried.
Putting his hand into his breast pocket, he drew out
some sheets of typewriting, which he placed on the table
before him, as though for future reference. Then he turned
(03:16):
to his host. Some time ago, a man named Peter
Wally came to us and made a statement, Doctor Markfield.
Markfield's face betrayed some surprise Wally. He asked, do you
mean the man who was murdered on the Lizardbridge Road.
He was murdered, certainly, Sir Clinton confirmed, But as I said,
he made a statement to us, I'm not very clear
(03:39):
about some points, and I think you might be able
to fill in one or two of the gaps. Markfield's
face showed a quick flash of suspicion. I'm not very
sure what you mean, he said, doubtfully. If you're trying
to trap me into saying things that might go against Silverdale,
I may as well tell you I have no desire
to give evidence against him. I'm sure he's innocent, and
(03:59):
I don't wish wish to say anything to give you
a handle against him. That's frank enough, isn't it. If
it relieves your mind, I may as well say I
agree with you on that point, Doctor Markfield. So there's
no reason why you shouldn't give us your help. Markfield
seemed slightly taken aback by this. But he did his
best to hide his feelings go on. Then he said,
(04:21):
what is it you want? Sir Clinton half opened the
paper on the table, then took away his hand, as
though he needed no notice at the moment. It appears
that on the night of the affair at the Bungalow,
when Missus Silverdale met her death, Peter Wally was walking
along the Lizardbridge Road coming towards town. Sir Clinton began,
it was a foggy night, you remember. He just passed
(04:43):
the Bungalow gate when he noticed ahead of him the
headlights of a car standing by the roadside, and he
appears to have heard voices. The inspector listened to this
with all his ears. Where had Sir Clinton fished up
this fresh stock of information? Evidently of crucial importance? Then
a recollection of the Chief Constable's warning flashed through his mind,
(05:04):
and he schooled his features into a mask of impassivity.
A glance at Markfield showed that the chemist, though outwardly uninterested,
was missing no detail of the story. It seems Sir
Clinton went on that the late mister Wally 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 mister Wally, from his limited experience,
(05:28):
inferred that she was intoxicated. The man, Wally thought, had
stopped the car to straighten her in the seat and
make her look less conspicuous, But as soon as Wally
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, doctor Markfield.
(05:54):
We have to take witnesses where we can get them. Frankly, then,
the late mister Wally 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 mister Walally's mind,
clothing them in vulgar language, They'd be here's a bit
(06:16):
of 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 mister Wally then
stared after the car, and, to his joy no doubt,
he saw it turn in at the gate of the bungalow.
(06:37):
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 analyze mister
Wally'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
(06:57):
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 brow slightly. The late mister Wally wasn't a perfect witness,
of course, and I'm inclined to think that at this
point I can supply missing detail in the story. A
second car came on the scene round about this period,
(07:20):
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 mister
Walley'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
(07:44):
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 Wally's statement wasn't
quite full, and that he's filling the gap with a
guess at his own. What a nerve, he commented to himself.
(08:07):
By the time the late mister Wally 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. Mister Wallly, its scenes, went gingerly up the approach,
and as he did so, a light went on in
one of the front rooms of the bungalow. The curtains
were drawn. The late mister Wally, with an eye to
(08:28):
future prophet, 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 perturb
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
(08:51):
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 mister Wally.
Sir Clinton continued when Markfield had finished his work. The
late mister Wally did not care about hanging round the
front of the bungalow. If he stood in front of
the lighted window, any one passing on the road would
(09:14):
be able to see him outlying 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
(09:35):
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 mister Wally tiptoed along 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
(09:57):
on to the flower bed, bent down, and peered through
the aperture. I hope I make myself clear, doctor Markfield, quite,
said Markfield curtly. Sir Clinton nodded in acknowledgment, glanced once
more at his papers, as though to refresh his memory,
and continued. What he saw was this. The girl was
(10:17):
lying in an arm chair near the fireplace. The late
mister Wally, again misled by his limited experience, thought she'd
fallen asleep the effects of alcohol. He supposed, I believe
the young man who was with her, we may save
the trouble by calling him Hassendean, I think, seemed rather agitated,
but not quite in the way that the late mister
Wally had anticipated. Hassendeen spoke to the girl and got
(10:40):
no reply. Evidently he shook her gently and so on,
but he got no response. I think we may cut
out the details. The net result was that to mister
Wally's inexperienced eye, the girl looked very far gone. Hassendeen
seemed to be thunderstruck by the situation, which puzzled the
late mister Wallykins considerably. At the time, Markfield, apparently unimpressed,
(11:04):
leaned across and ran some more of the liquid out
of his funnel. Flamborough guessed the movement might be intended
to conceal his features from easy observation. The next stage
in the proceedings took the late mister Wally by surprise.
It seems, Sir Clinton went on leaving the girl where
she was. Young Hassendein left the room for a minute
or two. When he came back, he had a pistol
(11:26):
in his hand. This was not at all what the
late mister Wally had been expecting. Least of all did
he expect to see young Hassendein go up to the
girl and shoot her in the head at close quarters.
I'm sure you'll appreciate the feelings of the late mister
Wally at this stage. Doctor Markfield. Surprising, Markfield commented abruptly.
(11:46):
Sir Clinton nodded in agreement. What must have been even
more surprising was the sequel. The glass of the front
window broke with a blow and form behind the curtains
a man appeared who fell upon Hassendein. There was a struggle,
a couple of shots from Hassendine's pistol, and then Hassendeen
fell on the ground dead, as Wally supposed. At the time,
(12:08):
Blamborough stared hard at Markfield, But at that moment the
chemist again turned in his chair, ran the remainder of
the liquid from the funnel into his flask, and then
refilled the funnel from the bottle on the tray. This done,
he turned once more with an impassive face to Sir Clinton.
By this time the late mister Wallly seems to have
seen all that he wanted. Just as he was turning
(12:30):
away from the window, he noticed the newcomer take some
small object from his waistcoat pocket and drop it on
the floor. Then mister Wallly felt it was time to
make himself scarce. He stepped back on to the path,
made his way round the bungalow, hurried down the approach
to the gate. There he came across a car, evidently
the one in which the assailant had arrived. The late
(12:52):
mister Wallly, even at this stage, was not quite free
from this second idea, What is there in it for me?
He took the number of the car, and then he
made himself scarce Sir Clinton's thought for a moment or two,
and gazed across at Markfield with an inscrutable face. By
the way, Doctor Markfield, he added, in a casual tone,
(13:13):
what was the pet name that missus Silverdale used to
call you when you were alone together? The one beginning
with B. This time it was evident to the inspector
Sir Clinton had got home under Markfield's guard. The chemist
glanced up with more than a shade of apprehension on
his face. He seemed to be making a mental estimate
of the situation before he replied, Hum, you know that,
(13:37):
do you? He said, finally, then there's no use denying it.
I suppose she used to call me bear usually, she said,
I had the manners of one at times, and perhaps
there was something in that. Sir Clinton showed no sign
that he attached much importance to Markfield's explanation. H became
intimate with her some time in nineteen twenty five. I
(13:57):
think just after the Silverdales came here. Markfield nodded his assent,
and very shortly after that you and she thought it
best to conceal your liaison by seeing as little of
each other as possible in public, so as not to
draw attention to your relations That's true. And finally she
got hold of young Hastendine to serve as a blind
(14:19):
advertise herself with him openly, whilst you stayed in the background.
You seem to know a good deal about it, Markfield admitted, coldly.
I think I know all that matters. The Chief Constable commented,
you've lost the game, doctor Markfield. Markfield seemed to consider
the situation rapidly before he spoke again. You can't make
(14:40):
it worse than manslaughter, he said at last, It's no
more than that on the evidence you've given me just now.
I saw him shoot Uvon and then in the struggle afterwards,
as pistol went off twice by accident and hit him.
You couldn't call that a case of murder. I shall
plead that it was done in self defense, and you
haven't Wally to put into the box against me. Sir
(15:01):
Clinton took no pains to conceal a sardonic smile. It
won't do, doctor Markfield, he pointed out, you might get
off on that plea if it were only the bungalow
business that you were charged with. But there's the murder
of the maid at Heatherfield as well. You can't twist
that into a self defense affair. No jury would look
at it for a moment. You seem to know a
(15:22):
good deal about it, Markfield repeated, thoughtfully. I suppose what
you really wanted at Heatherfield was a packet of your
love letters to missus Silverdale, Sir Clinton asked. Markfield confirmed
this with a nod. That's all you have against me,
I suppose, he demanded. After a pause, Sir Clinton shook
his head. No, he said, there's the affair of the
(15:43):
late mister Wally as well. Markfield's face betrayed neither surprise
nor chagrin at this fresh charge. That's all, then, he questioned, again,
with apparent unconcern. All that's of importance, Sir Clinton admitted.
Of course, in the guise of our friend miss to Justice,
you did your best to throw suspicion on Silverdale. That's
(16:04):
a minor point, so far as you're concerned. Now, it's
curious how you murderers can't leave well alone. If you
hadn't played the fool there, you'd have given us ever
so much more trouble. Markfield made no answer at the moment.
He seemed to be reviewing the whole situation in his mind,
thinking hard before he broke the silence. Good thing, the
(16:26):
scientific training, he said at length, rather unexpectedly. It teaches
one to realize the bearing of plain facts. My game
seems to be up. You've been too smart for me,
he paused, and a grim smile crossed his face, as
though he found something humorous in the situation. You seem
to have enough stuff there to pitch a tale to
(16:46):
a jury, he continued, And I dare say you've more
in reserve. I'm not inclined to be dragged squalling to
the gallows. Too undignified for my taste. I'll tell you
the facts. Flamborough, eager that things should be done in
proper form, interposed the usual official cautionary statement. That's all right,
Markfield answered, carelessly. You'll find paper over yonder on my
(17:09):
desk beside the typewriter. You can take down what I
say and I'll sign it afterwards, if you think that necessary.
When I've finished, the Inspector crossed the room, picked up
a number of sheets of typewriting paper, and returned to
the table. He pulled out his fountain pen and prepared
to take notes. Mind if I like my pipe, Markfield inquired.
(17:31):
As the chemist put his hand to his pocket. Flamborough
half rose from his seat, but he sank back again
into his chair when the tobacco pouch appeared instead of
a pistol, which he had been afraid might be produced.
Markfield threw him a glance which showed he had fathomed
the meeting of the Inspector's start. Don't get nervous, he said, contemptuously.
There'll be no shooting. This isn't a film, you know.
(17:54):
He reached up to the mantelpiece for his pipe, charged it,
deliberately lighted it, and then turned to Sir Clinton. You've
got a warrant from my rest, I suppose, he asked,
in a tone which sounded almost indifferent. Sir Clinton's affirmative
reply did not seem to disturb him. He settled himself
comfortably in his chair, and appeared interested chiefly in getting
(18:14):
his pipe to burn well. I'll speak slowly, he said
at last, turning to the inspector. If I go too fast,
just let me know. Flamborough nodded and sat pen in hand,
waiting for the opening of the narrative end of Chapter seventeen.
Chapter seventeen of the Case with Nine Solutions by J. J. Connington.
This LibriVox recording is in the public domain, mister Justice.
Just before entering the road in which Markfield lived, Sir
Clinton drew up his car, and as he did so,
a constable in plain clothes stepped forward. Doctor Markfield's and
(00:24):
his house. Sir. He announced he came home just before
dinner time. Sir Clinton nodded, led in his clutch, and
drove round the corner to Markfield's gate. As he stopped
his engine, he glanced at the house front. Note that
his garage is built into the house inspector. He pointed
out that seems of interest if there's a door from
(00:44):
the house directed into the garage. I think They walked
up the short approach and rang the bell. In a
few moments, the door was opened by Markfield's housekeeper, rather
to her surprise. Sir Clinton inquired about the health of
her relation, whom she had been nursing. Oh she's all
right again, sir, Thank you, I got back yesterday. She
(01:05):
paused a moment as though in doubt, then added, I'm
not sure if doctor Markfield is free this evening, Sir,
he's expecting a visitor. We shan't attain him if his
visitor arrived, Sir Clinton assured her his manner, leaving no
doubt in her mind as to the advisability of his
own admission. The housekeeper ushered them into Markfield's sitting room,
(01:25):
where they found him by the fire, deep in a book.
At the sound of Sir Clinton's name, he looked up
with a glance which betrayed his annoyance at being disturbed.
I'm rather at a loss to understand this visit, he
said stiffly. As they came into the room. Sir Clinton
refused to notice the obviously grudging tone of his reception.
We merely wish to have a few minutes talk doctor Markfield,
(01:47):
he explained pleasantly. Some information has come into my hands
which needs confirmation, and I think you'll be able to
help us. Markfield glanced at the clock. I'm in the
middle of an experiment, he said, gruffly. I've got to
run it through now that it started. If you're going
to be long, i'd better bring the things in here
and then I can oversee it while I'm talking to you.
(02:10):
Without waiting for permission, he left the room and came
back in a couple of minutes with a tray on
which stood some apparatus. Blamborough noticed a conical flask containing
some limpid liquid and a stoppered bottle. Markfield clamped a
dropping funnel, also containing a clear liquid, so that its
spout entered the conical flask, and by turning the top
(02:30):
of the funnel slightly, he allowed a little of the
contents to flow down into the flask. I hope the
smell doesn't trouble you, he said, in a tone of
sour apology. It's the triathlamine I'm mixing with the tetranatromethane,
and the flask rather a fishy stink it has. He
arranged the apparatus on the table so that he could
reach the tap conveniently without rising from his chair. Then,
(02:54):
after admitting a little more of the liquid from the
funnel into the flask, he seated himself once more and
gave Sir Clinton his attention. What is it you want
to know, he demanded abruptly. Sir Clinton refused to be hurried.
Putting his hand into his breast pocket, he drew out
some sheets of typewriting, which he placed on the table
before him, as though for future reference. Then he turned
(03:16):
to his host. Some time ago, a man named Peter
Wally came to us and made a statement, Doctor Markfield.
Markfield's face betrayed some surprise Wally. He asked, do you
mean the man who was murdered on the Lizardbridge Road.
He was murdered, certainly, Sir Clinton confirmed, But as I said,
he made a statement to us, I'm not very clear
(03:39):
about some points, and I think you might be able
to fill in one or two of the gaps. Markfield's
face showed a quick flash of suspicion. I'm not very
sure what you mean, he said, doubtfully. If you're trying
to trap me into saying things that might go against Silverdale,
I may as well tell you I have no desire
to give evidence against him. I'm sure he's innocent, and
(03:59):
I don't wish wish to say anything to give you
a handle against him. That's frank enough, isn't it. If
it relieves your mind, I may as well say I
agree with you on that point, Doctor Markfield. So there's
no reason why you shouldn't give us your help. Markfield
seemed slightly taken aback by this. But he did his
best to hide his feelings go on. Then he said,
(04:21):
what is it you want? Sir Clinton half opened the
paper on the table, then took away his hand, as
though he needed no notice at the moment. It appears
that on the night of the affair at the Bungalow,
when Missus Silverdale met her death, Peter Wally was walking
along the Lizardbridge Road coming towards town. Sir Clinton began,
it was a foggy night, you remember. He just passed
(04:43):
the Bungalow gate when he noticed ahead of him the
headlights of a car standing by the roadside, and he
appears to have heard voices. The inspector listened to this
with all his ears. Where had Sir Clinton fished up
this fresh stock of information? Evidently of crucial importance? Then
a recollection of the Chief Constable's warning flashed through his mind,
(05:04):
and he schooled his features into a mask of impassivity.
A glance at Markfield showed that the chemist, though outwardly uninterested,
was missing no detail of the story. It seems Sir
Clinton went on that the late mister Wally 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 mister Wally, from his limited experience,
(05:28):
inferred that she was intoxicated. The man, Wally thought, had
stopped the car to straighten her in the seat and
make her look less conspicuous, But as soon as Wally
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, doctor Markfield.
(05:54):
We have to take witnesses where we can get them. Frankly, then,
the late mister Wally 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 mister Walally's mind,
clothing them in vulgar language, They'd be here's a bit
(06:16):
of 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 mister Wally then
stared after the car, and, to his joy no doubt,
he saw it turn in at the gate of the bungalow.
(06:37):
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 analyze mister
Wally'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
(06:57):
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 brow slightly. The late mister Wally wasn't a perfect witness,
of course, and I'm inclined to think that at this
point I can supply missing detail in the story. A
second car came on the scene round about this period,
(07:20):
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 mister
Walley'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
(07:44):
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 Wally's statement wasn't
quite full, and that he's filling the gap with a
guess at his own. What a nerve, he commented to himself.
(08:07):
By the time the late mister Wally 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. Mister Wallly, its scenes, went gingerly up the approach,
and as he did so, a light went on in
one of the front rooms of the bungalow. The curtains
were drawn. The late mister Wally, with an eye to
(08:28):
future prophet, 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 perturb
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
(08:51):
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 mister Wally.
Sir Clinton continued when Markfield had finished his work. The
late mister Wally did not care about hanging round the
front of the bungalow. If he stood in front of
the lighted window, any one passing on the road would
(09:14):
be able to see him outlying 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
(09:35):
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 mister Wally tiptoed along 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
(09:57):
on to the flower bed, bent down, and peered through
the aperture. I hope I make myself clear, doctor Markfield, quite,
said Markfield curtly. Sir Clinton nodded in acknowledgment, glanced once
more at his papers, as though to refresh his memory,
and continued. What he saw was this. The girl was
(10:17):
lying in an arm chair near the fireplace. The late
mister Wally, again misled by his limited experience, thought she'd
fallen asleep the effects of alcohol. He supposed, I believe
the young man who was with her, we may save
the trouble by calling him Hassendean, I think, seemed rather agitated,
but not quite in the way that the late mister
Wally had anticipated. Hassendeen spoke to the girl and got
(10:40):
no reply. Evidently he shook her gently and so on,
but he got no response. I think we may cut
out the details. The net result was that to mister
Wally's inexperienced eye, the girl looked very far gone. Hassendeen
seemed to be thunderstruck by the situation, which puzzled the
late mister Wallykins considerably. At the time, Markfield, apparently unimpressed,
(11:04):
leaned across and ran some more of the liquid out
of his funnel. Flamborough guessed the movement might be intended
to conceal his features from easy observation. The next stage
in the proceedings took the late mister Wally by surprise.
It seems, Sir Clinton went on leaving the girl where
she was. Young Hassendein left the room for a minute
or two. When he came back, he had a pistol
(11:26):
in his hand. This was not at all what the
late mister Wally had been expecting. Least of all did
he expect to see young Hassendein go up to the
girl and shoot her in the head at close quarters.
I'm sure you'll appreciate the feelings of the late mister
Wally at this stage. Doctor Markfield. Surprising, Markfield commented abruptly.
(11:46):
Sir Clinton nodded in agreement. What must have been even
more surprising was the sequel. The glass of the front
window broke with a blow and form behind the curtains
a man appeared who fell upon Hassendein. There was a struggle,
a couple of shots from Hassendine's pistol, and then Hassendeen
fell on the ground dead, as Wally supposed. At the time,
(12:08):
Blamborough stared hard at Markfield, But at that moment the
chemist again turned in his chair, ran the remainder of
the liquid from the funnel into his flask, and then
refilled the funnel from the bottle on the tray. This done,
he turned once more with an impassive face to Sir Clinton.
By this time the late mister Wallly seems to have
seen all that he wanted. Just as he was turning
(12:30):
away from the window, he noticed the newcomer take some
small object from his waistcoat pocket and drop it on
the floor. Then mister Wallly felt it was time to
make himself scarce. He stepped back on to the path,
made his way round the bungalow, hurried down the approach
to the gate. There he came across a car, evidently
the one in which the assailant had arrived. The late
(12:52):
mister Wallly, even at this stage, was not quite free
from this second idea, What is there in it for me?
He took the number of the car, and then he
made himself scarce Sir Clinton's thought for a moment or two,
and gazed across at Markfield with an inscrutable face. By
the way, Doctor Markfield, he added, in a casual tone,
(13:13):
what was the pet name that missus Silverdale used to
call you when you were alone together? The one beginning
with B. This time it was evident to the inspector
Sir Clinton had got home under Markfield's guard. The chemist
glanced up with more than a shade of apprehension on
his face. He seemed to be making a mental estimate
of the situation before he replied, Hum, you know that,
(13:37):
do you? He said, finally, then there's no use denying it.
I suppose she used to call me bear usually, she said,
I had the manners of one at times, and perhaps
there was something in that. Sir Clinton showed no sign
that he attached much importance to Markfield's explanation. H became
intimate with her some time in nineteen twenty five. I
(13:57):
think just after the Silverdales came here. Markfield nodded his assent,
and very shortly after that you and she thought it
best to conceal your liaison by seeing as little of
each other as possible in public, so as not to
draw attention to your relations That's true. And finally she
got hold of young Hastendine to serve as a blind
(14:19):
advertise herself with him openly, whilst you stayed in the background.
You seem to know a good deal about it, Markfield admitted, coldly.
I think I know all that matters. The Chief Constable commented,
you've lost the game, doctor Markfield. Markfield seemed to consider
the situation rapidly before he spoke again. You can't make
(14:40):
it worse than manslaughter, he said at last, It's no
more than that on the evidence you've given me just now.
I saw him shoot Uvon and then in the struggle afterwards,
as pistol went off twice by accident and hit him.
You couldn't call that a case of murder. I shall
plead that it was done in self defense, and you
haven't Wally to put into the box against me. Sir
(15:01):
Clinton took no pains to conceal a sardonic smile. It
won't do, doctor Markfield, he pointed out, you might get
off on that plea if it were only the bungalow
business that you were charged with. But there's the murder
of the maid at Heatherfield as well. You can't twist
that into a self defense affair. No jury would look
at it for a moment. You seem to know a
(15:22):
good deal about it, Markfield repeated, thoughtfully. I suppose what
you really wanted at Heatherfield was a packet of your
love letters to missus Silverdale, Sir Clinton asked. Markfield confirmed
this with a nod. That's all you have against me,
I suppose, he demanded. After a pause, Sir Clinton shook
his head. No, he said, there's the affair of the
(15:43):
late mister Wally as well. Markfield's face betrayed neither surprise
nor chagrin at this fresh charge. That's all, then, he questioned, again,
with apparent unconcern. All that's of importance, Sir Clinton admitted.
Of course, in the guise of our friend miss to Justice,
you did your best to throw suspicion on Silverdale. That's
(16:04):
a minor point, so far as you're concerned. Now, it's
curious how you murderers can't leave well alone. If you
hadn't played the fool there, you'd have given us ever
so much more trouble. Markfield made no answer at the moment.
He seemed to be reviewing the whole situation in his mind,
thinking hard before he broke the silence. Good thing, the
(16:26):
scientific training, he said at length, rather unexpectedly. It teaches
one to realize the bearing of plain facts. My game
seems to be up. You've been too smart for me,
he paused, and a grim smile crossed his face, as
though he found something humorous in the situation. You seem
to have enough stuff there to pitch a tale to
(16:46):
a jury, he continued, And I dare say you've more
in reserve. I'm not inclined to be dragged squalling to
the gallows. Too undignified for my taste. I'll tell you
the facts. Flamborough, eager that things should be done in
proper form, interposed the usual official cautionary statement. That's all right,
Markfield answered, carelessly. You'll find paper over yonder on my
(17:09):
desk beside the typewriter. You can take down what I
say and I'll sign it afterwards, if you think that necessary.
When I've finished, the Inspector crossed the room, picked up
a number of sheets of typewriting paper, and returned to
the table. He pulled out his fountain pen and prepared
to take notes. Mind if I like my pipe, Markfield inquired.
(17:31):
As the chemist put his hand to his pocket. Flamborough
half rose from his seat, but he sank back again
into his chair when the tobacco pouch appeared instead of
a pistol, which he had been afraid might be produced.
Markfield threw him a glance which showed he had fathomed
the meeting of the Inspector's start. Don't get nervous, he said, contemptuously.
There'll be no shooting. This isn't a film, you know.
(17:54):
He reached up to the mantelpiece for his pipe, charged it,
deliberately lighted it, and then turned to Sir Clinton. You've
got a warrant from my rest, I suppose, he asked,
in a tone which sounded almost indifferent. Sir Clinton's affirmative
reply did not seem to disturb him. He settled himself
comfortably in his chair, and appeared interested chiefly in getting
(18:14):
his pipe to burn well. I'll speak slowly, he said
at last, turning to the inspector. If I go too fast,
just let me know. Flamborough nodded and sat pen in hand,
waiting for the opening of the narrative end of Chapter seventeen.
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