“Look here!” he exclaimed, “I don’t want you to be on the defensive with me, Mr. Garlett. If, as I trust will be the case, these inquiries of mine show that everything occurred in—well, in a regular and proper manner, no one will be more pleased than I shall be. I am not trying to catch you out in any way.”
Garlett’s face lightened. “Thank you for saying that. But—but I feel so bewildered, Mr. Kentworthy.”
“I understand that. Still, in your own interest I beg you to tell me, as clearly as possible, whatever details you may remember as to your wife’s sudden death. I propose to make a shorthand note of all you say, and then, after I have transcribed it, to ask you to read it over and sign the statement.”
He waited a moment, then added:
“I need hardly say that if you would prefer to ask your solicitor to be present, I shall raise no objection.”
“I would far rather say the little I have to say to you alone,” exclaimed Harry Garlett eagerly. “I have a very strong reason for hoping that the matter will never be known to any one but to us two—and, I suppose I must add, to Dr. Maclean?”
“Of course I shall have to see Dr. Maclean,” answered the police inspector. “But now, Mr. Garlett, go ahead! I would, however, suggest that you give orders that we be not interrupted. A great deal depends on your statement, as well as on that of Mrs. Garlett’s medical attendant. If they both prove satisfactory, the Home Office will not issue what it is always reluctant to do—an exhumation order.”
“An exhumation order?”
As he repeated those ominous words, there was a tone of utter dismay and horror in Harry Garlett’s voice, and the older man threw him a quick, suspicious glance. Why did the suggestion of an exhumation order cause Emily Garlett’s widower such unease? Then he reminded himself that, after all, an absolutely innocent man might well quail before an ordeal which, whatever the precautions taken, was bound to become public.
“That would obviously be the next step,” he said reluctantly.