“Yes, yes, Inspector. I accept your rebuke; it would have been wiser to have been quite frank. Now about the past; there is really not much that I did not say in Court, though I noticed that the Coroner was not pressing me. Sir Garth Fratten was, as you know, married twice, his first wife dying in 1902 and his second in 1918. By the second wife he had one daughter, Miss Inez Fratten, born in 1905, but by his first wife he had no child. A child was, however, born to her a short time before their marriage. Sir Garth was, I believe, aware of what was about to occur before he asked her to marry him—he was deeply attached to his first wife, almost worshipped her—and, he adopted the child as his own son. That was Ryland Fratten. Sir Garth could, of course, make him his heir or co-heir, but that is quite a different thing to his becoming the automatic heir in the event of intestacy. It was for a similar reason, I believe, that Sir Garth refused the suggested offer of a baronetcy—he did not wish it known that Ryland was not his son. That is all, I think.” “Did Ryland know that he was not Sir Garth’s son?” “To the best of my belief he did not. Unless in that last quarrel that they had, Sir Garth divulged the fact to him; he did not tell me one way or the other, but evidently the break was very complete.” “Can you tell me who was Ryland’s father?” Mr. Menticle shook his head. “I never knew. I doubt if anyone does know, unless the man himself is still alive.” As there appeared to be nothing more to be learnt in this direction, Poole said good-night to Mr. Menticle and returned to the Yard. After arranging for the shadowing of Ryland Fratten, the detective made his way to Queen Anne’s Gate to keep his appointment. The butler, who evidently recognized him and had had his instructions, showed him straight into the morning-room, which was empty. He had not been waiting a minute, however, when the door opened and Inez Fratten came in. Poole inwardly cursed the butler for his stupidity, but Inez’s first words explained what had happened. “I’m so sorry to butt in, Mr. Poole,” she said. “I know you’ve come to see Ryland but I want to see you first. Ry came back from the inquest—I wasn’t there, you know; Mr. Menticle said I wasn’t needed—in an awful state. He seems to think that the police suspect him of murdering father. I needn’t tell you what nonsense that is, but I do want to know what has made him get that impression.” Poole fidgeted from one foot to the other. This was a new experience. Inez looked at him with growing wonder. “Good heavens, Mr. Poole,” she said, “surely _you_ don’t think that?” Her voice was strained and anxious, but her eyes were full of courage. Poole thought what a glorious creature she was and how much he would like to have such a sister to stick up for him when he was in trouble.