“It isn’t what I think, Miss Fratten,” he said, realizing that he must say something. “The investigation has not got very far yet—we certainly haven’t reached the stage of accusing anybody.” “But you are frightening Ryland; you must be, or he wouldn’t be in such a state. I don’t mean that he’s _frightened_,” she hurried to correct an unfortunate impression, “but he’s frightfully miserable. What is it?” “I’m afraid I really can’t tell you, Miss Fratten. I’m not at liberty to . . .” “Oh, rot!” Inez tapped the floor impatiently with her foot. “I don’t want any deadly secrets, but I must know why you have got your knives into Ry. Come, Mr. Poole, you must see that I’ve got to know—put yourself in my place. He’s my brother—all I’ve got now. And who can I ask except you? You must tell me.” Poole took a minute to think over his position. Obviously he could not give away the cards that the police held. Still, he would like to help the girl if he could do so consistently with his duty, and it was possible that he might get useful information at the same time. “I’ll do what I can, Miss Fratten,” he said at last, “and you might be able to help. As you yourself appear to have suspected from the first, your father’s death was not due to an accident—it was deliberately brought about—and apparently by somebody who knew and took advantage of his dangerous state of health. Having established that much, we have to look about for a probable author of the crime. When there is nothing more direct to go on, one usually turns first to two considerations: motive and opportunity. Taking motive first, the most direct line to follow is pecuniary advantage—the will. In Sir Garth’s will, the only people who benefit largely are yourself and your brother, Mr. Ryland Fratten. That is nothing in itself, but there are one or two other points that make it impossible for us to overlook Mr. Fratten in our search.” “And me, I suppose,” said Inez. “The ‘other points’ that I spoke of don’t refer to you, Miss Fratten.” “What are they?” “I can’t tell you that. That’s motive—not so important by itself, but combined with opportunity, very vital. Now, this is where you may be able to help, Miss Fratten—your brother as well as us. At the inquest this afternoon Mr. Fratten was asked where he had been at the time that your father was killed. He answered that he was in St. James’s Park—not half a mile from the spot—waiting for a lady to pick him up in a car. He wouldn’t give her name.” “Good Lord,” said Inez, “sounds thin doesn’t it?” “It does.” “But then you don’t know Ryland. He’s a hopeless fool about women. You want me to find out about her?” “I’m not asking you to, Miss Fratten. But if your brother really has a sound explanation of what certainly sounds like a very poor alibi—the sooner we know about it the better.” “I’ll do what I can. But look here, Mr. Poole, why should you put so much emphasis on the will as a motive? Surely there may be plenty of others?”