Poole laughed.
“No, sir; not always. As a matter of fact I shall knock off now; nothing more I can usefully do tonight.”
“I wish you’d take pity on a lonely man and come and dine with me—not here—too near our work. It would be a treat to me to have a yarn with someone who isn’t a stereotyped soldier or sailor.”
Poole was more than delighted to fall in with the suggestion and the two men spent a pleasant evening, dining at Pisotto’s in Greek Street and, after a leisurely meal strung out by much reminiscent conversation, turning in at the Avenue Pavilion to see the revival of one of Stroheim’s early masterpieces. It was twelve o’clock before Poole got into his bed in Battersea—tired, but much refreshed by his evening’s relaxation.
The following morning Poole had a long interview with Sir Leward Marradine and Chief Inspector Barrod, reporting the result of his visit to the Victory Finance Company’s office, his interviews with Mr. Blagge, Miss Saverel, and Captain Wraile—especially the relationship between the two last, and his failure to get in touch with Travers Lessingham. In his turn he learnt of Sir Leward’s interview with the Chairman of the Company and particularly of Sir Hunter’s declaration as to Wraile’s experience of such weapons as cross-bows—a regular genius in inventing devilments of that kind, Sir Hunter had reported his late Brigade Major to have been. As a result of the discussion that followed it was decided that warrants should be issued against Captain and Mrs. Wraile, to be executed in the event of Poole being able to break down their alibis, but that nothing definite could yet be charged against Lessingham; a good deal must depend on Sergeant Gower’s report and Poole’s subsequent interview. A statement from one or both of the Wrailes after arrest might, of course, implicate Lessingham, but Poole doubted if either of them was the type to give away a friend.
“And young Fratten?” asked Barrod. “What about him?”
“Oh surely you’re not still after him?” said Sir Leward, who was hoping to return to favour in Queen Anne’s Gate. “He’s cleared by the exposure of this Wraile conspiracy, isn’t he?”
“More likely to be in it,” growled Barrod. “Don’t forget that Poole saw him coming away from the Victory Finance offices the other day.”
“Fallows reports he’s been quite quiet lately, sir,” interposed Poole. “He hasn’t tried to give him the slip again. I haven’t forgotten about him though, sir—I’m trying to see where he fits in. There’s someone else I’m not quite happy about either.”
“Eh, who’s that?”