Poole felt a slight stirring of interest as he listened, though he was not sure exactly what had aroused it. But he was now coming to the awkward part of his interrogation. “About the actual cause of Sir Garth’s death, sir. I understand about the aneurism bursting, but what exactly caused it to burst?” Sir Horace fidgeted with a paper-knife. “Surely,” he said, “your people read the papers? There was a slight accident, very slight. Someone stumbled against Sir Garth, upset him to a certain extent. No doubt it was a shock, as it was on the occasion of which I have already spoken—he was nearly run over in the City by a motor-bicycle. The shock and excitement were quite sufficient to burst the aneurism. I had no difficulty in deciding the cause of death and in giving a certificate to that effect.” Poole took the plunge. “You will forgive me, sir,” he said, “but I shall be glad if you will tell me whether you are quite sure that there is no possibility of mistake. Is it impossible that death was due to some other cause, such as a blow? Some deliberate cause, that is to say?” Sir Horace sat up abruptly. “What on earth do you mean, sir?” he exclaimed. “Are you throwing doubts upon my diagnosis?” “Not for a minute,” Poole hastened to assure him. “I fully accept the cause of death as being the rupture of the aneurism, but I would like to know whether it could possibly have been deliberately brought about—by a blow, for instance. May I ask whether you examined the body for any signs of a blow—any wounds or bruising?” Sir Horace sprang to his feet, his face flushed, his eyes congested with anger. “This is beyond sufferance!” he exclaimed. “You come here and cross-question me about the way I carry out my duties! Me, a Physician to His Majesty the King! Sir Wilfred (he was referring to the Home Secretary) shall hear of this! It is preposterous!” He struck a hand-bell angrily: “Of course there was no wound or bruising. The cause of death was quite simple and in accordance with my certificate. The whole of this questioning is ridiculous. Have the goodness to remove yourself, sir. Frazer, show this man out.” Inspector Poole retired with what grace he could, but with a smile at the back of his mouth. As the front door closed sharply behind him, he said to himself: “That chap’s got the wind up.” CHAPTER VII Significant Information