“ ’Tics, I suppose?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And now you’ve taken to police work—C.I.D. Very interesting career. And I suppose you want to forget all about Oxford when you’re on your job?”
“That’s exactly what I do want, sir. Curiously enough it’s come out twice today, and I’m rather annoyed with myself for letting it.”
“Well, Inspector, I’ll forget about it now. What did you want to see me about?”
“It’s about the death of Sir Garth Fratten, sir.”
Poole was watching the lawyer very closely when he said this, and he thought he saw a shadow of distress or anxiety come into his eyes. He gave no other sign, however, and the detective continued.
“We have been given to understand that there are some grounds for uncertainty about the circumstances of the death. I must say frankly that so far we have very little to go on, but I have been instructed to make certain preliminary investigations, in which you, sir, as the family solicitor, naturally take a prominent place.”
Mr. Menticle nodded but did not volunteer any statement.
“There are one or two points, sir,” Poole continued, “which I thought might help us. In the first place, the will. I could of course, get particulars from Somerset House, but I shall get a very much clearer idea of it if you will go through the principal features of it with me.”