“Time of entering and leaving club—do you keep a check on that?”
“We do, as far as possible.” Captain Voilance turned to the house-telephone. “Send me up the entry book covering 24th October,” he said.
“Then,” continued Poole, “I want to know what Captain Wraile was doing while he was in the club—he says he had tea and that later a visitor came to see him—a Roumanian gentleman called Lukescu.”
“Better have the hall-porter up himself.” Captain Voilance had recourse once more to the house-telephone. Within half a minute the porter appeared—a well set-up, handsome man of about fifty, with a fine show of medals on his livery.
“Come in, Parlett. This is Inspector Poole, of Scotland Yard. He’s making some confidential enquiries about a member—Captain Wraile. I’ve heard all the facts of the case and decided that the club shall give Mr. Poole all the information it can; it’s really in Captain Wraile’s interest. Sit down, Parlett; now, Inspector, fire away.”
Poole drew out his note-book.
“You’ve got the Entry Book there, Mr. Parlett,” he said. “Can you tell me what time Captain Wraile entered the club on 24th October?”
Parlett turned the pages.
“5.45 p. m., sir. Colonel Croope came in at the same time.”
“And left?” More pages turned.