“You saw him quite clearly, sir?”
“Oh, yes—quite.”
“Is it possible that he was someone that you know by sight—disguised?”
Hessel stared at the detective.
“Who do you mean?” he asked.
“I am not for the moment suggesting that he was anyone in particular, but I should just like to be certain whether such a thing was or was not a possibility. If, as we think, this man made a deliberate attack upon Sir Garth, he would almost certainly be disguised. The old idea of the false beard and glasses is rather played out now—partly because beards are so little worn, partly because false ones seldom look real, and partly because it is now realized that a very slight alteration of a face can completely change it. This man wore a dark moustache; probably he was a clean-shaven man. I rather gather that his voice was ‘refined,’ but not quite that of a gentleman.” (For the moment, Poole thought it better to keep to himself Press’s evidence about the “gentlemanly oath.”) “A lower or middle class man would have difficulty in counterfeiting a gentleman’s voice, but a gentleman could easily convey the other impression—especially if he knew something about acting.”
Slowly an expression of astonishment, almost of horror, crept into Hessel’s face.
“Good God, Inspector,” he said. “You are suggesting that—that it might be Ryland!”
“Is it impossible, sir?” pressed Poole, leaning forward eagerly.
“Ryland! Ryland! His height, yes, perhaps—even his figure. But—oh no, it is impossible, Inspector. I should have recognized him, of course. Besides, the whole idea is unthinkable; he is a charming boy, devoted to his father. . . .”