Chapter 20 Chapter 20 Two Discussions

This bold and simple question surprised them both for a long time.Frankie and Bobby immediately spoke at the same time. "That can't be..." said Bobby, and what Frankie said was, "That must never be done." Then they both stopped abruptly, wondering if the idea would work. "Actually," said Moira eagerly, "I quite understand what you're saying. Although Roger must have taken the picture, and it appears to be, I'm not yet convinced that he pushed Alan off the cliff. They just met at lunch here and never met anywhere else. So there was a complete lack of motivation."

"Then who the hell pushed Alan down?" Frankie asked bluntly. A shadow fell over Moira's face. "I don't know." Her voice was unnatural. "Honestly," said Bobby, "I told Frankie everything you told me, and you don't mind. The things you're afraid of." Moira turned her head away. "You can say what you want, but those things are too dramatic, too hysterical. Sometimes I can't even believe it myself." There is indeed something strangely unrealistic about this wild narrative, told so impersonally in the open air in the quiet English countryside.

Suddenly Moira stood up. "I really think I'm a fool as hell," her lips quivered. "Please don't take what I say seriously, Mr. Jones. It's just a little neurotic. Well, I must go now, bye." She walked away quickly.Bobby sprang up to follow her, but Frankie pushed him back hard. "Stay here, idiot, I'll deliver." She followed Moira quickly, returning a few minutes later. "How is it?" Bobby asked anxiously. "Everything was fine. I calmed her down. It was a bit unbearable for her to let go of her private fears in front of a third party. I promised her that we would see each other again, just the three of us. Now that you are not hindered by her presence, tell the whole thing."

Bobby told what he had seen and heard.Frankie listened intently.She later said: "Two things matched up. One, I found Nicholson holding Sylvia's hands when I first came back, and he wasn't glaring at me! If staring can kill someone , I'm sure he made me a corpse on the spot." "What about the second pile?" "Oh, just a trifle. Sylvia told of a stranger who came to her house and was impressed by Moira's photograph. From this it turned out that the stranger was Carstairs. He recognized and Sylvia told him it was Mrs Nicholson's portrait, which would explain how he had found where she lived. But you know, Bobby, I don't see Nicholson's portrait yet. What is the use. Why did he kill Alan Carstairs?"

"You think he did it and not Bassington-French? If he and Bassington-French were both in March Bolt on the same day, it's pure coincidence." "Come on, coincidences did happen. But if Nicholson did it, I don't see the motive. Could it be that Carstairs was being pursued by a drug cartel headed by Nicholson? Isn't your new girlfriend the motive for the murder?" "It could be both," said Bobby. "Nicholson may know that his wife met Carstairs once, and he may think that his wife has betrayed him for some reason." "Ah, that's a possibility," said Frankie, "but the first thing to do is to find out about Roger. The only thing we've got against him are photographs. If he can be satisfactorily to clarify the matter..."

"Are you going to hang on to him on the subject? Frankie, is that sensible? If he's the kind of villain we think he is, that means we're ready to show him." "Not exactly... I wouldn't do it that way. He's pretty straightforward and aboveboard in every way, after all. We're taking that as extreme deceit, but maybe an act of innocence? If only he could make it clear about the photo —I watched him when he did, and I could see the slightest ambiguity of guilt. As I said, if he could tell about the photographs, he might A very valuable partner." "How do you say that, Frankie?"

"My dear, that little friend of yours may be an exaggerated, eloquent rumor-monger. But even if she isn't, it's true what she said: that her husband wanted to get rid of her, that he and Sylvie Don't you see that in this case Henry Bassington-French is also in mortal danger. We will do everything in our power to prevent him from being sent to Grange Hall. At present, Roger stands On Nicholson's side." "Well done, Frankie," said Bobby calmly, "go ahead with your plan." Frankie got up to go, but she stood for a while before she went. "Isn't it weird?" she said. "Somehow we were put on the cover of a book. We were in someone else's story. It was a weird feeling."

"I know what you mean," said Bobby. "It's kind of creepy. It's more of a play than a book. We came on stage like in the middle of the second act, and we There's no role in the play at all, and we have to put on a show. What makes it so uncomfortable is that we don't know what the first act is about." Frankie nodded eagerly, and said: "I'm not even sure it's the second act, it looks more like the third to me. Bobby, I'm sure we've got to go a long way back... and we've got to Hurry up because I think this drama is terribly nearing its end."

"Bodies all over the place," said Bobby, "and what brought us into the show was a generic cue, ten words, meaningless as far as we could tell." "Why didn't they invite Evans? Isn't it weird, Bobby, that we haven't gotten close to the mysterious Evans, even though we've found many, many, and more and more characters involved in the affair. .” "I have an idea about Evans. I don't think Evans matters at all. Although he can be a starting point, he probably doesn't matter. It's like Wells' novel, a prince in the Around the tomb of his beloved a splendid palace or a temple was built. When it was finished there was but a small view so out of harmony with the surroundings that the prince said, 'Tear it down.' The view was in fact the tomb."

"Sometimes," said Frankie, "I don't believe there's an Evans." With that, she nodded to Bobby and walked back to the house.