“If you must, you must,” he said.
“I want to ask you about Sir Garth’s business affairs. Have you any reason to suppose that one can get a line there as to the motive of his murder?”
“You’re convinced that it was murder?”
“Must have been—look at the wound—the bruising.”
“Couldn’t it have been done when he fell?”
“Hardly. The localized nature of . . .” Poole checked himself. “Anyhow, for the moment we are assuming that. Now, had he any business enemies?”
“Heaps I should think. But I don’t know of any. What I actually mean is that he must have run up against people from time to time, but I’ve never heard of anyone bearing him any malice.”
“You can’t suggest anything?”
“I can’t.”
“About his business papers—his personal ones; what’s become of them?”