Chapter 20 Chapter Twenty

Hercule Poirot in the office of Superintendent Spence, Kilchester.He leaned back in his chair, eyes closed, and tapped the fingertips of his hands. Superintendent Spence received several reports, gave instructions to a subordinate, and finally looked back at Poirot across from him. "Having an idea, M. Poirot?" he asked. "I am thinking," said Poirot, "I am remembering." "I forgot to ask you just now, did you learn anything useful when you saw James Bentley last time?" Poirot shook his head.His brows furrowed again. Indeed, he had been thinking of James Bentley just now.

Poirot thought with some exasperation that it was exasperating that, in a case where he had offered his intelligence and intelligence without remuneration, out of pure friendship and respect for an honest inspector, while the case The victim, the client, is so unromantic.A lovely young girl who is bewildered and innocent, or an upright good young man who is also bewildered, but whose head is "rather bent than bent," Poirot had recently read a great deal of English poetry from an anthology, recalled this phrase.However, he considered James Bentley to be a rare example of pathology, a self-centred individual who never thought much of anyone but himself.Not appreciative of the efforts being made to rescue him -- hardly interested, so to speak, in their efforts.

Perhaps, Poirot thought, since he did not seem to care, he might as well be put to death... No, he couldn't think that way. Superintendent Spence's voice interrupted these thoughts. "Our meeting," said Poirot, "was fruitless, if I may say so. Whatever useful circumstances Bentley could have remembered he had to remember—what he remembered was vague and wavering." Not sure, hard to judge from. Mrs. McGinty was agitated by the Sunday Comet article and told Bentley, especially as she kept repeating that 'someone connected with the case ' Live in Broadshinney."

"Associated with that case?" Superintendent Spence asked sharply. "Our friend is not sure," said Poirot, "he is quite doubtful and says it was the Craig case—but the Craig case is the only one he has ever heard of, and probably the only one he can remember. But 'somebody' is a woman. He even quotes Mrs. McGinty. Someone wouldn't be so proud if the truth came out." "pride?" "Yes," Poirot nodded appreciatively, "a very meaningful word, isn't it?" "Is there no clue as to who this proud lady is?" "Bentley meant Mrs. Upward—but, for my part, I can't believe it!"

Spence shook his head. "Probably because she was a proud and domineering woman--very prominent, I should say, and couldn't have been Mrs Upward, because Mrs Upward died, and caused Mrs McGinty The cause of death was exactly the same - because she recognized a photograph." Poirot said sadly: "I warned her." Spence murmured angrily: "Lily Gamble! In terms of age, there are only two possibilities, Mrs. Rendell and Mrs. Carpenter. I don't doubt the Henderson girl—she has a background." "Aren't there the other two?" Spence sighed. "You know what's going on these days. War messes things up. Lily Gamble's penitentiary school, and all its archives, got blown up in an air raid. And look at people, the world's richest The hard part is verifying people's identities. Take Broadshinney--the only people we know about the inhabitants of Broadshinney are the Somerhays family, who have lived there for three hundred years. There's Guy Carpenter, he's part of the engineering family of the Carpenter family. All the rest are -- how should I put it -- floating population? Dr. Rendell is a licensed physician, we know Where he trained and where he practiced medicine, but we don't know his family background, his wife was from around Dublin. Eva Carpenter, before she married Guy Carpenter A beautiful young war widow. Anyone could be a young and beautiful war widow these days. And look at the Wetherbys—they seem to have drifted around the world and been to all parts of the world. Why? Among them Is there a reason? Has he embezzled huge sums of money from the bank? Or have they had any scandals? I'm not saying we can't figure out where these people come from. We can find out - but it will take time. These people themselves are won't help you."

"Because they have something to hide--but without murder," said Poirot. "It's absolutely true. Maybe it's a lawsuit, maybe it's because of low birth, maybe it's a libel scandal or pornography. But whatever it is, they've gone through a lot of pain to cover up the truth - and that's what reveals it posed difficulties." "However, it's not impossible." "Oh, no, it's not impossible, it's just going to take some time. Like I said, if Lily Gamble were in Broadshinney, she'd be either Eva Carpenter or Sheila Rendell. I Checked them--just routine--that's what I said. They said they were both home--both alone. Mrs. Carpenter stared innocently. Mrs. Rendell was nervous-- But she's that nervous type of person, and you can't ignore that fact."

"Yes," said Poirot thoughtfully, "she is of the nervous sort." He was thinking of Mrs. Rundle in the garden of the Long Meadow.Mrs. Rendell had received an anonymous letter, or at least so she said.He was as surprised by this sentence as ever. Spence continued: "We have to be extra careful -- because even if one of them is really guilty, the other is innocent." "And Guy Carpenter is a promising member of Parliament and a local figure." "If he's really guilty of murder or an accomplice, that won't save him," Spence said harshly.

"I know. But you have to find out, don't you?" "Of course. Anyway, you'll agree, it's just the two of them, won't you?" Poirot sighed. "No—no—I wouldn't say that. There are other possibilities." "Can you give me an example?" Poirot was silent for a moment, then he changed his tone and asked almost chatterily: "Why do people save photos?" "Why? God knows! Why do people keep all kinds of stuff—junk—crash, bits and pieces of worthless stuff. That's what they do—that's all." "I agree with you in a sense. Some people keep things. Others throw them away as soon as they're done with them. Yes, it's just a matter of temperament. But now I'm specifically referring to It’s photos. Why do people save photos in particular?”

"As I said, because they don't like to throw things. Or because the pictures remind them—" Poirot cut off the sentence abruptly: "True. The photographs reminded them. Now we revisit the question—why? Why would a woman keep photographs of herself when she was young? The first reason, I would say, was vanity. She had A pretty girl who keeps a picture of herself to remind her how beautiful she really is. It gives her encouragement and courage when she looks in the mirror and sees herself getting older. Maybe she can say to a friend, ' That's what I looked like when I was eighteen...' Then she sighs the passing of the years...Do you agree?"

"Yes—yes, I should say that is absolutely true." "So, that's the first reason, vanity. Now, let's talk about the second reason, nostalgia." "Is this the same thing?" "No, no, not exactly. Because it would make you keep not only your own picture, but someone else's picture... a picture of your married daughter - when she was a child, wearing tulle, sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace." "I've seen some of these pictures." Spence grinned. "Yes. Sometimes the person in the picture feels embarrassed, but mothers like to do it. Sons and daughters often save pictures of their mothers, especially if their mothers died young. This is my mother doing small things. As a girl."

"I am beginning to understand your train of thought, M. Poirot." "There's a third reason, a third possibility. It's not vanity, it's not nostalgia, it's not love—maybe it's hatred—what's your comment on that?" "Hate?" "Yes. To keep the lust for vengeance upon the living. Someone hurt you - you might keep a picture to remind you. Wouldn't you?" "But certainly not in this case." "Won't it?" "What are you thinking?" Poirot whispered: "Newspaper articles are often inaccurate. The Sunday Comet says Eva Kane is employed by the Craigs as a nanny. Is that true?" "Yes, that's exactly it. But we're just assuming that Lily Gamble is the one we're looking for." Poirot straightened suddenly from the chair in which he sat.He points an index finger at Spence. "Look, look at that picture of Lily Gamble. She's not pretty--no! Frankly, she's ugly and hideous with her big teeth and those big thick glasses. Well, no one's going to The first reason we just mentioned to keep such a picture. No woman would keep this picture out of vanity. If Eva Carpenter or Sheila Rendell, they are both good looking women , especially Eva Carpenter, if they had this picture themselves, they would tear it to shreds quickly, in case anyone saw it!" "Well, that explanation makes sense." "So the first reason is off the table. Now, let's consider the nostalgia one. Did anyone love Lily Gamble at that age? The whole problem with Lily Gamble is that they didn't love her. She was a nobody To be a child that no one loves. The person who loves her the most is her aunt, and her aunt died under an axe. So, this picture is not going to be saved for nostalgia. So, what about the hate? No one hates her either. Her murdered aunt was a lonely woman with no husband or close friends. No one harbored hatred for this child in the slum - only pity her." "Listen, M. Poirot, what you mean by that is that no one is going to keep that photograph." "It's true—that's what I've been thinking about." "But someone kept it. Because Mrs. Upward saw it." "Has she seen it?" "Damn it. You told me. She said it herself." "Yes, she said so," said Poirot, "but Mrs. Upward is, in some respects, a mysterious woman. She likes to have things her own way. I produced the photographs, and she thought One of them came out. But then, for some reason, she wanted to keep her recognition of the picture to herself. Let's just say she wanted to deal with a certain situation the way she imagined. .She was very quick-witted, so she pointed out another picture on purpose. That way she kept the secret to herself, and only she knew it." "But why?" "Because, as I see it, she wants to deal with it alone." "Wouldn't that be blackmail? She's a very rich woman, you know, the widow of a manufacturer up north." "Oh, no, not blackmail. More likely benevolence. Let's say she's quite fond of the person in question, and she doesn't want to spill their secrets. Yet, she's curious. She wants to speak to the person privately." .At the interview, in order to negotiate whether that person had anything to do with Mrs. McGinty's death. That's what happened." "So, focus on the other three photos?" "Indeed. Mrs. Upward wanted to get in touch with the man at the first opportunity. Her son and Mrs. Oliver went to the theater at Caravon just in time." "And she called Deirdre Henderson. That's making Deirdre Henderson the person in the picture, and her mom!" Superintendent Spence looked at Poirot and shook his head sadly. "You do like to complicate things, don't you, M. Poirot?" said he.