Chapter 8 Chapter 8 The Mystery of the Photo

They stared at each other for a moment as they tried to adjust themselves to the mutant situation. "It couldn't have been anyone else," said Bobby. "He's the only one who's had the chance." "Unless, as we said, there are two pictures." "We all agreed that the two photos were not of the same person. If there were two photos, they would try to identify the deceased with both photos, not just one." "It's easy to figure out, however many there are," said Frankie, "and we can ask the police. For now, let's assume there's only one photograph, the one you put back in his pocket after seeing it. You leave him When the police came, the picture was gone, so the only person who could take it and replace it with another one was Bassington-French. What did he look like, Bobby ?”

Bobby frowned, trying to remember. "An indescribable kind of guy. Nice voice, gentlemanly manners and all. I didn't really pay much attention to him. He said he was a stranger here, looking for a house or something." "Anyway, we can confirm it," said Frankie. "Wheeler and Orne are the only real estate agents." She shuddered suddenly. "Bobby, have you thought about it? If Pritchard The one who was pushed down, Bassington-French must be the one who did it..." "That's horrible," said Bobby. "He seemed like a nice-looking guy. But you know, Frankie, we can't be sure that the dead man was really pushed down. That's just how you keep thinking." .”

"No, I just wish it was that way, because it would make the case more exciting. And now it's sort of confirmed. If it was a murder, everything would have happened. You're out of the blue. The murderer's plans were disrupted by showing up. You found the picture, so you must be killed." "There's a loophole here," said Bobby. "What? You are the only one who has seen that picture. When Bassington-French was left alone with the dead man, he replaced the one you had seen." But Bobby was still shaking his head. "No, it won't be. At this point, as you say let's assume that the photo is so important that I have to 'kill' me. As ridiculous as it sounds, I think it's possible. Well, then, whatever Everything that was set to be done had to be done right away. The fact that I went to London and didn't read the Marchbolt Weekly and other papers with the pictures was a surprise, no one could count that .Possibility is, I should have seen the paper and said, 'This is not the picture I've seen.' Why wait until all the issues are resolved after the hearing?"

"There's something in it," Frankie admitted. "And one more thing, of course, I'm not absolutely sure, but I can almost say that Bassington-French was not there when I put the picture back in the deceased's pocket. He arrived five or ten minutes later. of." "He may have been watching your movements," Frankie argued. "I don't see how he could," said Bobby, speaking slowly, "that there was only one place where we could look down to see exactly where we were. A little way around, the cliffs rose and then went down so that you cannot check. There is only one place, so that as soon as Bassington-French arrived, I heard his voice immediately. The footsteps echoed below. He may be close at hand, but I am sure he is not Might be visible."

"Then you think he didn't know you saw the picture?" "I don't see how he could know." "He couldn't possibly be worried that you saw him do—murder, I mean, because, as you say, that's absurd. You're not going to keep quiet about it. There must be something about it." "I just can't see what's going on." "After the post-mortem hearing, they didn't know anything. I don't understand why you say 'they'." "Why not? At least the Caymans are in it. Probably a gang. I like gangs." "That's low taste," said Frankie uneasily. "A single-handed murderer is better, Bobby!"

"yes?" "What did Pritchard say before he died? That ridiculous question you told me the other day on the golf course?" "Why didn't they ask Evans?" "Yes. Think about what this sentence means." "But it's ridiculous." "It sounds ridiculous, but it might be important. Bobby, I'm sure of it. Oh no, I'm stupid, you didn't tell the Caymans that?" "As a matter of fact I told them," said Bobby slowly. "you've said?" "Yes. I wrote them a letter that night. Of course, it's probably not very important for me to say that."

"and after?" "Cayman wrote back, naturally politely agreeing that it was pointless to say it, but thanking me for my trouble. I felt left out." "Two days later, you received that letter from a strange company again, tempting you to go to South America?" "right." "Come on," said Frankie, "I don't see what else you want. First they try and you ignore it; next they follow you and take a good chance and put a lot of morphine in your beer." in the bottle." "So, the Caymans are really among them?" "Of course!"

"Yes," said Bobby thoughtfully, "if your deduction is correct, they must have participated in this matter. According to our current speculation, it happened like this: the deceased X was supposed to be killed by B (forgive me) I use these letters) to push off the cliff. It is important that X should not be properly identified, so someone put Mrs. C's picture in the deceased's pocket and took the picture of the unknown lady (I don't know her Who is it)." "Get to the point," Frankie snapped. "When the photos were released, Mrs. C appeared as a distraught sister and confirmed that X was her younger brother who had returned from abroad."

"Don't you believe he could really be her brother?" "Don't believe it for a while! You know, this thing has always puzzled me. The Caymans weren't a class at all. And the dead, well, it sounds as special as talking about some formerly isolated Anglo-Indians. Terrible, but the dead man was a true European gentleman." "The characteristics of the Caymans are not particularly obvious, are they?" "Especially obvious." "So, from the Caymans' point of view, everything is going very well: the identity of the deceased has been successfully established, the conclusion of the death by accident, the garden is in full bloom, and you just popped in to mess things up. Too bad," said Frankie thoughtfully.

"Why didn't they ask Evans?" Bobby repeated the sentence thoughtfully. "Actually, I don't see any surprise in it." "Oops: that's because you don't know. It's like playing Scrabble. You write down a clue that you think is dead simple and everyone will figure it out right away. And when they don't get it at all, you'll There’s a lot of fuss. For them, ‘Why didn’t they hire Evans?’ must mean a lot, and they don’t understand that it doesn’t mean anything to you.” "They're poorer." "Ah, quite so. But they think it's possible that Pritchard said that, and that he might have said something else, which you'll recall in due course. All they had to do was take the risk. Try it, and you will be killed."

"They took a big risk. Why didn't they plan another 'accident'?" "No, no. That would be stupid. Two separate incidents in one week? That would most likely imply a relationship between the two, and people would start looking into the first. No, I think they're really pretty clever tricks There's a simple recklessness in it." "And you said just now that morphine isn't easy to come by." "It's not impossible. You'll have to sign the poison register. Oh! That's a clue, of course. Whoever did it has access to morphine." "Doctors, nurses, or chemists." Bobby quickly reminded. "Well, I'm thinking more about illegally imported drugs." "You can't mix up different kinds of crime," Bobby said. "Actually, the point is lack of motive. Your death does no one any good. So what do the police think?" "A lunatic did it," said Bobby. "They really think so." "What do you think? Terribly simple, really." Bobby laughed suddenly. "What makes you laugh?" "Think how miserable they must be! All that morphine, enough to kill five or six people, and I'm still alive and kicking." "It's a little mockery of vitality that no one could have predicted," Frankie agreed. "The question is, what do we do next?" Bobby asked. "Ah! There's a lot going on," said Frankie quickly. "for example……" "Well, find out about that photograph. There's only one, not two. And find out about Bassington-French looking for a house." "It's probably normal and above board." "Why do you say that?" "Listen, Frankie, if you think about it, Bassington-French must be cleared. He must be clean and above board. Not only must he have no connection in any way with the dead man, but he must have a legitimate reason for coming." Here. He may have been trying to find a house on a whim, but I bet he did something of the sort. There's no such thing as a 'mysterious stranger was seen near where the unfortunate incident happened'. I guess Bassington-F Lunch is his own name, and he would be the type to be ruled out." "That's right," said Frankie thoughtfully, "that's a pretty perfect inference. Nothing connects Bassington-French with Alex Pritchard. That being the case, if we Knowing that the dead were really..." "Well, maybe that's quite a different matter." "So, the most important thing is that the body is not recognized, so all the Caymanians have changed their appearance, although it is very risky to do so." "You forget that Mrs. Cayman was quite human once she confirmed the identity of the deceased. Since then, even when his picture was in the papers (you know how blurry those things are), people would just say : 'Strange, this Pritchard who fell off the cliff looks very much like Mr. X.'" "There must be more than that," Frankie said quickly, "X sure can't Someone who goes missing easily. I mean, he can't be the head man whose wife or relatives go to the police right away and report him missing." "That's right, Frankie. No, he's just been out of the country or just back (he's very tanned, like a monster hunter, like that), and he can't have any next of kin who knows his whereabouts." .” "We're making neat inferences," said Frankie, "and I hope we're not all wrong." "Probably," said Bobby, "but I think it's a fairly normal judgment to say what we've said so far, which is to say that we've been talking about the whole mess of things." Frankie waved away the messy links with a contrived gesture. "The key is the next step. As I see it, we have three angles of attack." "Go on." "Number one is you. They already tried to kill you once. They'll probably do it again. This time we might be able to use 'a fishing line' to manipulate them. I mean, use you as bait." "Don't trouble yourself, Frankie," said Bobby emotionally. "I got lucky this time, and if they switched their attack on a dull puppet, I couldn't be so lucky again. I'm thinking about the future Take care of yourself. Therefore, the idea of ​​bait can be dispelled." "I'm afraid you'll say that," sighed Frankie, "that young people these days are hopelessly degenerate, that's what my father said, that they don't like to live in turmoil anymore, they don't want to do things that are both Dangerous and exciting. What a pity!" "Big pity," said Bobby firmly, "what's the second plan of the campaign?" "From the line 'Why didn't they invite Evans'," said Frankie, "suppose the dead man came here to see Evans, whoever Evans was. Now, if we could Find Evans..." Bobby interrupted her: "How many Evans do you think March Bolt has?" "I reckon there were seven hundred," Frankie admitted. "At least that many! We might be able to do this, but I'm always a little skeptical." "We list all the people named Evans and call on the ones who are the most suitable." "What question do you ask them?" "That's the hard part," said Frankie. "We need to know more," said Bobby. "Then your idea might be useful. What's Plan Three?" "Find that Bassington-French man. We've got some solid facts. It's an unusual name. I'll ask my father. He knows the names and branches of all the great families in the county." Yes," said Bobby, "we can do that." "Anyway, what are we going to do?" "Of course. Do you think I'm going to be given eight pills of morphine to keep me from doing anything?" "It's quite a man," said Frankie. "Other than that," said Bobby, "I'll wash off the insult of the stomach pump." "Enough," said Frankie, "if I don't keep you from talking, you're going to be sick and mean again." "You have nothing of the genuine sympathy of a woman."

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