“I expect we shall find him, Miss Fratten,” said Poole. “In the meantime, will you tell me the name of your father’s solicitor?”
And with the name and address of Mr. Septimus Menticle of Lincoln’s Inn, Poole took his departure.
Mr. Menticle, however, was not in, and Poole was wondering what else he could do to further the enquiry when it occurred to him that Sir Leward had added the name of Mr. Leopold Hessel to the list of his preliminary investigations. The detective had gathered that Mr. Hessel was a director of Fratten’s Bank, so turned his steps now in that direction. He was lucky enough to find Mr. Hessel still in the bank. As soon as Poole had explained his business, the banker motioned him to a chair and sent for an extra supply of tea.
“Now, just what is it you want to know, Inspector?” asked Hessel. “About the accident—though it was scarcely as much as that really—before Sir Garth’s death? I’ll tell it you as well as I can, though it’s extraordinarily difficult to be clear in one’s mind, even about the most trivial happenings, when one has to be exact. We were walking from my club in St. James’s Square towards Sir Garth’s house in Queen Anne’s Gate—you know it, I expect. He always walked home across the Park in the evening, though generally from his own club. On this occasion he happened to have had tea in my club and I was walking part of the way home with him; we got absorbed in a topic of conversation and I went on with him past the Athenæum and the Duke of York’s column, though I had not at first intended to go that way. As we went down the steps, some man, who was apparently in a hurry, stumbled and fell against Sir Garth, who in his turn knocked against me.”
“Just one minute, sir, please,” interrupted Poole. “I’d like to get it quite clear. You say that the man stumbled and fell against Sir Garth. Could you define that rather more closely? What was the actual degree of force with which he struck into Sir Garth?”
Hessel thought for a minute.
“It’s just as I said,” he replied—“so difficult to be exact. I was talking, of course, and not noticing very much what was going on around me. I think I was just conscious of some slight noise or commotion—an exclamation, perhaps, and then Fratten staggered against me. Not very heavily—I don’t think he would have fallen if I had not been there. But he was upset—clearly shaken—I suppose it was a shock. The man was very apologetic—seemed quite a decent fellow. As Fratten appeared to be really none the worse there seemed to be no point in detaining him—he was in a hurry—and said something about the Admiralty and a message. He ran on down the steps in that direction and Sir Garth and I walked slowly on—I took his arm in case he was still feeling shaken. Just after we had crossed . . .”
“May I interrupt again one minute, sir? Before you leave the incident on the Duke of York’s Steps—can you say definitely whether or not the man who stumbled against Sir Garth actually struck him? Struck him with his fist, that is to say, or some instrument, with sufficient force to cause his death?”
Hessel stared at the Inspector with surprise.
“I see,” he said. “That’s what you’ve got in your mind? I wonder what put the idea there—still, I suppose that’s not my business. No, I should say myself pretty definitely that such a thing did not occur. I feel quite sure that I must have been aware if any force of that kind had been used. Besides, there were any number of people about—there is always a stream of them going that way towards Victoria and Waterloo at that time of day. Some of them must surely have noticed if any blow had been struck.”