Barrod held him for nearly a minute under his stare.
“And who, sir, was this—er—lady?”
“I can’t tell you.”
“Do you mean you can’t or you won’t?”
“I can’t tell you,” Fratten repeated.
Barrod opened his mouth as if to renew his interrogation, but, apparently changing his mind, resumed his seat, with a sardonic expression.
“That’s all, sir,” he said, rising and bowing to the Coroner.
Mr. Menticle had boldly walked across to Ryland’s side and engaged him in a whispered conversation. The Coroner indulged him by writing up his notes. Having finished his colloquy, Mr. Menticle turned to the Coroner.
“Mr. Fratten has asked me to represent him, sir,” he said. “I trust I have your permission.”
The Coroner looked at him, a curious expression on his face.