Now, as he walked, he deliberately forced himself to review the ugly subject again. Silence had told him that on 17th October, a week before Sir Garth’s death, Ryland Fratten had borrowed from him £15,000—at an exorbitant rate of interest—on the sole security of a note from Sir Horace Spavage saying that Sir Garth’s expectation of life was very short. The money was lent for three months only, so that Ryland must have expected the death within that period. What justification had he for doing so? Sir Horace Spavage certainly had put no such limit on his patient’s life, though he had not been in the least surprised when death had come to him so suddenly. He determined to try and see the actual note, or at any rate to get Sir Horace’s version of what it contained.
In the meantime he resolved to review Ryland Fratten’s connection with the case, to keep a closer eye upon his movements, and to thrust all unprofessional sympathy out of his mind. He had taken up the trail of Lessingham and the Wrailes with such keenness that he had neglected his first objective; it was not impossible that Ryland might be involved with them.
CHAPTER XXIV.
Alibi
The two trails that Poole was now following—excluding, for the moment, Ryland Fratten—had diverged; one remained in London, the other led to Belgium—Brussels. He had to decide which to follow himself and which to allot to an assistant. His inclination was to give Lessingham the place of honour, but if he were to go off to Brussels now he would be out of touch with events in London—and he had a feeling that events would soon become more rapid. It was possible, too, that though Lessingham’s trail led to Brussels, he himself might still be in London. Poole decided, therefore, to send Sergeant Gower to the address in the Rue de Canetons, whilst he himself investigated the alibis so kindly provided for him by Captain and Mrs. Wraile.
Returning to Scotland Yard, he sent for Sergeant Gower and told him to look up the train and air services to the Belgian capital and to be ready to catch whatever would get him there quickest. Gower, who had the reputation of being a walking Bradshaw, replied at once that there was an 8.30 p. m. train from Liverpool Street to Harwich which would get him to Brussels some time after 9 a. m. the following morning. As it was not barely six there would be no difficulty about catching it; what were his instructions? The question at once brought Poole to a realization of the difficulty that confronted him. It was easy enough to say: find Lessingham; but, if found, what was to be done with him? It was not, as yet, a question of arrest; when that time came the Belgian police might have to be called in. It was rather a question of interrogation and Poole wanted to do that himself. For the moment, therefore, he instructed Sergeant Gower to investigate the address; if possible get in touch with Lessingham, and then telephone to him, Poole, for further instructions. He gave certain definite hours at which he would try to be on the end of the telephone at Scotland Yard.
When Gower had gone, Poole took a sheet of foolscap and started to work on the Wraile alibis. Assuming for the moment that Mrs. Wraile was the driver of the car, and Wraile the man who had first jostled and then shot Sir Garth, he jotted down the times within which each of them must have been away from their alibi. Reviewing all the evidence as to time, it seemed fairly certain that the accident on the Duke of York’s Steps had taken place at 6.30 p. m., the death a few minutes later. With that assumption the time-table worked out as follows:
Mrs. Wraile must have been in position near the Admiralty Arch by 6.25 p. m. at the latest, probably by 6.20 p. m. In a car, it would take her quite 15 minutes to get from Ald House to the Admiralty Arch. She might therefore have left Ald House at 6.5 or 6.10 p. m. That was a significant time: it allowed the remainder of the staff to have left (and supplied her with the first part of her alibi) before she left herself. As for her return, she would probably have dropped her husband somewhere near his alibi (Pall Mall) and driven straight back to Ald House; getting there any time after 6.45. Canting, the hall-porter, had said that she left the building just before he went off duty at 7 p. m. It was a close squeeze, but just possible. How she dodged Canting so as to make him think that was the first time she left the building that evening, had yet to be shown.
Now for Captain Wraile. He must have been near the top of the Duke of York’s Steps by about 6.20 p. m. That was, at the most, five minutes’ walk from his club (The Junior Services in Pall Mall) which he must have left at 6.15. If, after the shooting of Fratten, Mrs. Wraile had driven straight up the Mall and turned past Marlborough House into Pall Mall she could have dropped her husband near his club by 6.40. Wraile had, therefore, only to be absent from his club from 6.15 to 6.40 p. m. It remained for Poole to find out whether that could have been done.
Having completed his schedule, the detective looked at his watch; it was twenty minutes to seven, a comparatively quiet time at clubs—and the same staff would probably be on duty as were there at the time of Wraile’s alibi for 24th October. Poole put on his hat and coat, walked out into Whitehall, flung himself on to a 53 bus as it gathered way past the Home Office, and was duly dropped as it swung past the Guards Memorial in Waterloo Place. From there it was two minutes’ walk to the Junior Services—at least two minutes to come off Wraile’s danger-period.
Poole knew the ways—the excellent ways—of Club servants; they would give him no information whatever concerning their members. He therefore asked for the Secretary and was lucky enough to find him in.