Chapter 32 Chapter 32 Evans

Frankie held his breath.Bobby raised his voice excitedly. "Look, you're asking the same question that Carstairs asked. Why didn't they ask the maid? Why didn't they ask Evans?" "Oh: Bobby, we've finally reached our goal." "Carstairs must have had the same question in his mind. He poked around like us, looking for suspicious people and things. He was moved by it as much as the question moved us. And, I believe, he That's why he came to Wales. Gladys Evans was a Welsh name, and Evans must have been a Welsh girl. He tracked her down to Marchbolt. Someone was following him again, so he didn't No Evans found."

"Why didn't they clear Evans?" said Frankie. "There must be some reason for it. It's a rather silly little puzzle, but it's important. There are two maids in the house, why go out and call for the gardener?" " "Maybe it's because Chadley and Albert Mailer are fools, and Evans is a pretty shrewd girl in turn." "It's not going to be that simple. Mr. Elford was there, and he's a very shrewd man. Oh, Bobby, the whole situation is like this, and I see how it is. As long as we can find out why it is Evans , why did Chadley and Mailer sign instead of Evans?"

She stopped suddenly and put her hands to her face. "Yes," she said, "it's just flickering, and I'll figure it out in a moment." She stood silent for a minute or two, then took her hands from her face and looked at her companion with a strange gleam in her eyes. "Bobby," she said, "if you lived in a house with two servants, which one would you have more contact with?" "The one who cleans the room, of course," said Bobby, with deep wonder. "Nobody ever touches the one who cooks all the time and pays attention to her."

"Yes, and she never pays attention to you. If you go into the kitchen at a certain time, she may look at you more or less. And the housemaid waits on you, greets you, and brings you coffee." "What do you mean, Frankie?" "There's no way they'd get Evans to sign that will because Evans would understand that the person who made the will was not Mr Savage." "Jesus: Frankie, what do you mean? So who is that guy?" "Of course it's Roger Bassington-French! Don't you see he's pretending to be Savage? I'll bet it was Roger who went to the doctor and made a huge exaggeration about the cancer, Then a lawyer was brought in. The lawyer didn't know Mr. Savage, but he could swear he saw Mr. Savage sign that will. Two other people signed, one of whom hadn't met Savage before, The other old man is probably going blind and probably never saw Savage. Now you see?"

"But where was the real Savage then?" "Oh! He was in good health when he got there, and I suspect they later drugged him and took him up to the attic, where he stayed for twelve hours. Roger did his disguise stunt at this point. Finally They put Savage back in bed and gave him chloral. Evans found him dead in the morning." "My God, I think you're right, Frankie. But can we confirm this?" "Yeah, ah, no, I don't know. Imagine taking a picture of the real Savage and showing Rose Chadley—I'm talking about Pratt, what? She'd say: 'This Isn't he the one who signed the will?"

"I suspect," said Bobby, "she's a fool." "I think that's why she was picked to sign. But there is another thing, an expert should be able to verify that Savage's signature is forged." "They hadn't identified it before." "Because no one has ever raised the question. There seems to be no opportunity to forge a will, and now the situation is different." "We've got to do one thing," said Bobby. "Find Evans. She might tell us a lot. She seems to have lived with the Templetons for half the year." Frankie snorted.

"It's even harder to do that." "How about asking at the post office?" suggested Bobby. They just passed the post office, which looked more like an ordinary store from the outside. Frankie storms into the post office and begins the action.There was no one else in there except a female staff member.The young female clerk looked inquisitive. Frankie bought a two-shilling stamp album and began talking about the weather: "I think you have better weather here than where we live. I live in Marchbolt, Wales. You wouldn't believe us How much rain there." The young female staff said that it rains a lot here, and there was a heavy rain in the last one.

Frankie said, "There's a guy from your place in Marchbolt, I don't know if you know her. Her name is Evans—Gladys Evans." The female clerk was not suspicious at all: "Oh, of course I know. She works as a maid in the Tudor villa, but she is not from this area, but from Wales. She went back there and got married. She is now Mrs. Roberts .” "Well," said Frankie, "can you give me her address? I borrowed an umbrella from her and forgot to return it. If I had her address, I'd send it back to her." "That's how it is," said the clerk. "I think so. I get postcards from her every now and then. She's a servant along with her husband. Wait a moment, please."

She walked over and rummaged in a corner, and after a while she came back with a piece of paper in her hand. "Here you are." She pushed the paper along the counter. Bobby and Frankie took it together, after all it was the last thing they wanted.What is written on the paper is: Marchbolt Vicarage, Wales mrs roberts

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