“Now you’re here, sir,” continued Poole, “perhaps I may ask you one or two questions. I’ve already explained to Mr. Blagge and Miss Sav—Mrs. Wraile, that I am here in connection with the death of Sir Garth Fratten. It has been suggested that the possibility of Sir Garth joining the Board was not welcomed by some of the directors; can you tell me about that?”
Poole noticed that Mrs. Wraile evidently intended to remain in the room while he interrogated her husband; in the ordinary course he did not like to question anyone in the presence of a third person, but in this case he realized that whatever passed would be discussed by Wraile and his wife whether she was there or not; he thought it might even be useful to have her there as he might intercept some glance between the two that might be a guide to him. It was even yet possible that their connection with the case might be an innocent one; their joint attitude now might give him an indication as to whether it was or not.
Wraile had received the detective’s question, first with surprise and then with a frown of thought.
“I expect I know what you mean, Inspector,” he said at last, “but though there was some disagreement about it I don’t think it amounted to anything at all significant. I saw the account of the Inquest; I gather that you think Sir Garth may have been murdered and that you’re looking about for a motive. There may have been some lack of enthusiasm about his joining the Board but it was a molehill that you mustn’t make a mountain out of.”
Wraile’s smile was disarming.
“I don’t know whether you know our chairman—Sir Hunter Lorne? A damn good fellow and a fine soldier, but not brimming over with tact. He threw this business at us like a bomb—without a word of warning—said he’d invited Sir Garth to join the Board and that he’d as good as accepted. Of course he’d got no right to invite him without our consent—or at any rate without consulting us—he’s got a majority of shares so of course he can outvote us. But his inviting Fratten without consulting us put us in a very awkward position and he made out he’d done something wonderful and was only waiting for the applause. Lessingham was furious and I confess I was a good deal irritated myself. When I’d had time to think it over I came to the conclusion that Fratten’s joining the Board would, on balance, be a good thing; I told Sir Hunter so. I don’t know whether Lessingham came to that conclusion or not—I’ve only seen him once since and we didn’t refer to it then—it was after Fratten’s death. You’d better ask him yourself if you want to know.”
The detective thanked Wraile for his very lucid and helpful explanation and asked his “routine” question about his whereabouts on the evening of 24th October. Wraile looked in his diary and replied that he must have been at his office—the Ethiopian and General Development Company’s office—till nearly half-past five as he had had an appointment with a man named Yardley, managing-director of Canning, Herrup, at five and their talk couldn’t have lasted much less than half an hour—Yardley might be able to confirm that. He had then gone to his club, the Junior Services, in Pall Mall, had tea, and had another interview there with a potential client—Lukescu, the Roumanian company promoter. He was at the club certainly till seven, if not half-past, because Lukescu had been late for his appointment. There should be no difficulty in proving that because he had been very annoyed about being kept waiting and had more than once enquired whether the man had not come. Probably the hall-porter or one of the waiters would remember something about it.
Poole made careful notes of this story and tried to pin Captain Wraile down to more exact time, but the latter did not appear to take great interest in the subject and declared himself quite incapable of being more exact. The detective realized that he must go to the club and make some very close enquiries—an extremely difficult task, as clubs are very reticent about the doings of their members. There was other work nearer at hand, however, and Poole, taking a respectful leave of Captain and Mrs. Wraile, made his way down the four flights of stairs and introduced himself to the hall-porter.
Mr. Canting proved to be a man who did the duty that he was paid for. His employer gave him, he said, a good wage to be on duty in the hall, or in his cubby-hole looking into it, or working the lift, between the hours of 9 a. m. and 7 p. m. on week-days, 9 and 1.30 on Saturdays, with reasonable time off for meals. Being an old soldier (his row of medals—M.M., 1914 star; British and Allied Victory Medals; Belgian Croix de Guerre—showed that his had been no hollow service) he knew his duty and did it. He remembered 24th October because General Lorne, under whom he had served and who had got him this job, had given him a tip for the Ormonde Plate which had come off. The General always put him on to anything good that was going and very seldom let him down—if he did he sometimes gave him something to make up for it—a proper gentleman he was. On this occasion the General had said early in the morning he was going to Newbury and would not be back again that day.
That same evening, just before he went off duty at 7 p. m., he remembered Miss Saverel, as she went out, saying something to him about “Blue Diamond” having won—had chaffed him about his “Turf successes,” as she called them. A very nice young lady, pleasant but not familiar—always said good-night to him when she left. This had been one of her late evenings; about once a week on an average she stayed for an hour or two after the others had gone—probably finishing up some work. In reply to Poole’s enquiry, Canting was quite sure that she had not left earlier and come back, as he had been in the hall or his office (as he rather euphemistically described his cubby-hole) all the evening—he always was. Oh yes, he sometimes left it to work the lift—often during the daytime but seldom in the evening—it was all “down and out,” not “in and up” then. After 6 he didn’t suppose he worked that lift once in a blue moon—certainly he hadn’t within the last month or so. No, there was no back- or side-door; everyone coming out had to pass him.