Chapter 25 Chapter Twenty-Five

The four sat in Poirot's room.Poirot sipped a glass of black syrup in his armchair.Norma and Mrs. Oliver sat on the couch.Mrs. Oliver wore an ill-fitting apple-green brocade suit and a laborious coiffure, but she looked strangely bright.Dr. Stilling Freed stretched his long legs out of the chair, and seemed to span half the room. "Now, I have a lot of things to ask," said Mrs. Oliver, with the tone of an inquisitor. Poirot hastened to make a favor. "But, my dear lady, don't forget. I owe you more than I can repay. All, all my good ideas are inspired by you." Mrs. Oliver looked at him incredulously.

"Didn't you teach me the word 'third girl'? I started here and ended up with the third girl who shared an apartment. Technically speaking, I think, I always kept promises. Ma as the third girl—but when I went around a long way to deduce the problem from the right angle, everything started to look. Every time I couldn’t find the answer, a small piece of the puzzle was missing—always To this third girl." "Always—I think you know what I mean—an intangible person. To me she's just a name." "It's strange that I never associated her with Mary Restarike," said Mrs. Oliver. "I saw her at Cross Hedges, and talked to her. Of course, my first The first time I saw Frances Jally, she had black hair hanging all over her face. Anyone would be fooled by her."

"And yet it was you, madam, who brought my attention to how easily a woman can change her appearance by simply changing her hairstyle. Remember, Frances Jali was trained in drama.She is so good at quick disguises that she can change the tone of her voice at will.As Frances, she has long black hair, posing and covering half of her face, her face is heavily smeared with white powder, her eyebrows are drawn with black eyebrow pencil, and she wears black eye cream. Her voice is thick and hoarse.Mary Resderick wore a neatly combed wavy blonde wig, plain clothes, a slight British colonial accent, and a crisp tone, which just presented a sharp contrast.But, from the very beginning, it doesn't feel like she's real.What kind of woman is she?I am not sure.

"I'm at a loss for her. I—Hercule Poirot can't fathom her." "Listen," said Dr. Stillingfried, "it's the first time I've heard you say that, Poirot! There's nothing wrong with it." "I really don't understand why she has to be two characters," said Mrs. Oliver. "I don't think it's going to be so much trouble." "No. It was all that mattered to her. You know, it gave her an alibi at all times. You see, it's always there, right in front of my eyes, and I don't see it. Take that wig for example - I've been subconsciously stuck with it but can't figure out why. The two women have never been seen together at any point in time. Their lifestyles are ingenious , when it is not necessary, no one will notice that there will be such a big difference between the two people's daily work and rest schedules. Mary often travels to London to buy things, find real estate agents, and take a lot of lists to see the goods , pretending that was how she passed the time. Frances went to Birmingham, Manchester, and even flew abroad, often in Chelsea, to socialize with her idiosyncratic group of young artists in the art world, whom she employed in various and It is illegal. The frames of Wadeben Gallery are specially designed. There are "painting exhibitions" held by rising stars among painters-his paintings sell well, are sold abroad, or sent out to participate in art exhibitions, and the frames are filled with Packets full of heroin—artistic swindles of all kinds—masterpieces of great painters of no renown—was the work of her own planning and preparation. David Baker was her A painter for hire. He's a gifted copyist."

Norma murmured, "Poor David. When I first met him, I thought he was so nice." "That portrait," said Poirot dreamily, "is always, constantly coming back to my mind. Why did Resderick bring it to the office? What special importance did it have to him? Not someone who appreciates being stupid." "I don't know anything about the two portraits." "It was a very ingenious scheme. It was used as a kind of identification. Two single portraits of the couple, painted by a well-known and very popular portrait painter at the time. After being taken out of the storage room, David Baker swapped Orwell's portrait with Resderick's, and painted Orwell about twenty years younger. No one would dream that it was a fake, style, tone and canvas, Convincingly crafted first rate. Resderick hangs him on the wall behind his desk. Anyone who knew Resderick years ago would probably have said: 'I don't even know you You've changed!' or 'You've changed a lot.' And then look at the portrait, only to think that he probably really forgot what the other person looked like!"

"Isn't that too much of a risk for Resderick—oh, Orwell?" said Mrs. Oliver doubtfully. "It's definitely not as big as you think. You see, in terms of business credit, he was never a debt collector. He was just a part of a well-known company in the city. He lived overseas for many years. In the year of his brother's death, Returned to England to take care of his brother's business. He brought with him a young lady whom he had recently met abroad, and lived with an old, half-blind but very prestigious uncle who had not been very close to him since he was in primary school. He was gone, so he accepted him without paying attention.

Apart from a daughter who was separated from him at the age of five, he has no close relatives.When he left for South Africa, the only two remaining old clerks in their company passed away one after another.Young staff don't stay long these days.The family's lawyer has also passed away.We can conclude that Frances had studied the whole situation very carefully long after the two men had decided to seek usurpation. " "As it turns out, they met in Kenya two years ago. Both were gangsters, but with very different interests. He specialized in bogus deals in prospecting—Restrick and Orwell went there together. Some savage areas have been prospected for mines. There was a rumor (probably true) of Resderick's death at one point, but it was breached again."

"A lot of money may have been involved in the gambling, I suppose?" said Stanley Freed. "A huge sum of money was involved. A terrific gamble--a terrific gamble. And it turned out to be a windfall for Andrew Resderick. He was rich himself, and heir to his brother's fortune." .No one has ever doubted his identity. But then things —— not good. There was a thunderbolt on a sunny day, and he received a letter from a woman. If this woman saw him, she would immediately recognize him. Turned out he wasn't Andrew Resderick. And then another bad thing happened—David Baker started blackmailing him."

"I think they should have expected this." Stanley Fried said carefully. "They didn't expect it," said Poirot. "David hadn't blackmailed anyone before. I think the man's great wealth made him jealous. He felt: the reward he got for painting this fake portrait." It was a small sum by comparison, and he wanted more, so Resderick wrote him another large check, pretending it was for his daughter—to prevent her from marrying an unworthy man. Whether he actually wants to marry her, I don't know - he probably will. But it's dangerous to blackmail people like Orwell and Frances Jali."

"You think these two men are so cruelly planning to get rid of him--so quietly?" demanded Mrs. Oliver. She could hardly bear to look at him. "They probably counted you in, madame," said Poirot. "Me? You mean one of them hit me on the head? Frances you think? Not the poor peacock?" "I don't think it was the peacock. You had been at Bollorden Flats then, so Frances may have thought you were following her to Chelsea, and even made up a whole story for yourself. So , she slipped out and gave you a good blow on the head, momentarily suppressing her curiosity. I warned you that there would be danger, but you never listened."

"I couldn't believe it was her! She was lying there in that filthy studio that day in that model's pose! But for what—” she said, glancing at Norma—then turning to Poirot and saying: “They want to use her—deliberately—to harm her, to drug her, to make her believe It was she who murdered them both.What is this for? " "They need a scapegoat..." said Poirot. He got up from his chair and walked over to Norma. "Dear child, you have had a horrible ordeal. It should never happen to you again. You should remember now that you should always have faith in yourself. Knowing the absolute evil in the nick of time Meaning is a defense against the dangers that lurk in life." "I think you said," Norma said, "it's horrible to think that I'm crazy—and actually believe I'm crazy..." She shuddered: "Even now, I still I don’t understand how I escaped this catastrophe—how everyone tried their best to believe that I didn’t kill David—even I myself believed that I killed him?” "The blood is wrong," said Dr. Stelling Fried simply, "and it started to clot so quickly. According to Miss Jacobs, the blood on the shirt was 'stiff', not wet. Frances was performing At the time of that scream, you killed him at most five minutes ago." "Then how could she—" Mrs. Oliver seemed to be beginning to understand: "has been to Manchester again!" "She came back by the earlier train and changed into Mary's wig and makeup on the car. Walked to the Boloden apartment, took the elevator upstairs in the appearance of a blonde that no one knew. Entered the apartment, David was there waiting for her at her orders. He had no doubts, and she stabbed him to death. Afterwards, she went out of the Borrowden apartment and hid herself until Norma arrived. She slipped into a communal The dressing room of the venue, after remodeling, met a friend at the intersection, the two walked and talked, and after saying goodbye at the door of Boloden’s apartment, she went upstairs alone to continue her performance——I think, she must be to herself The performance was very enjoyable. When the police were notified to arrive, she thought that no one would suspect the time gap. Norma, I have to say now, you made us miserable that day. You kept insisting Both of them have the look of killing you!" "I'm just going to confess, to get this over with... Did you ever—did you ever think maybe I did it?" "Me? What do you think I am? I know what my patient would do without doing anything. I thought you were trying to make things more difficult, though. I didn't know How long is Neil going to be on our side. In my opinion, this is not the proper procedure for the police to handle the case.Look at how submissive he is to us Poirot. " Poirot smiled: "I have known Sergeant Neil for many years. Besides, he himself has made some relevant investigations. Actually, you have never been to the door of Louise's apartment. Frances changed the door number. She put The numbers six and seven on your cards were reversed. They were loose and held down with nails. Claudia wasn't home that night. Frances drugged you so the whole thing was right. You are like a nightmare." "I suddenly see everything clearly now. The only person who could have killed Louise was the real 'Third Girl' Frances Jally." "You only half knew her all the time, you know," said Stilling Fried, "because you told me it was as if one person somehow becomes another." Norma looked at him thoughtfully. "You're so rude to people," she said to Sterling Freed.He looked a little dazed. "Impolite?" "The things you said to people, and the things you yelled at them." "Well, well, well, maybe I'm... I'm a little bit pissed off. People can get really pissed off sometimes." He suddenly grinned at Poirot. "This girl is not simple, is she?" Mrs. Oliver rose to her feet with a sigh of relief. "I have to go home," she said, looking from the two men to Norma, "what are we going to do with her?" Both of them were taken aback. "I know she's living with me for now," she went on, "and she says she's happy too. But there's a problem. Because your father—I mean your real father—stayed Then a lot of money for you. It will be more complicated, and there will be a lot of people asking for alms. Of course, she can go to live with Sir Roderick, but that is too boring for a girl-he Already pretty much deaf and blind--and selfish as hell. Oh, by the way, what about his lost papers? The girl, and the National Arboretum thing?" "It was where he thought he had found it—Sonia found it," Norma told her: "Uncle Roddy and Sunia are getting married—next week—" "It's getting worse with age!" said Stanley Freed. "Ah!" said Poirot, "then the lady is willing to settle down in England for the sake of politics. She may be very wise, little girl." "Let's not talk about that," said Mrs. Oliver, conclusively. "Let's talk about Norma. We've got to be practical. We've got to make a plan. The child can't decide what to do by herself. Wait for someone to guide her." She glared at them sternly. Poirot said nothing, only a slight smile. "Oh, her?" said Dr. Stelling Friedman. "Well, let me tell you, Norma. I'm flying to Australia on Tuesday. I'm going to see the situation first—see what they did for me there." Is the arrangement feasible. Then, I'll telegraph you, and you meet me again, and after that, we'll get married. You've got to take my word for it, I'm not looking for your money, I'm not the kind A doctor at the Grand Medical Research Center. I'm only interested in people. I think you, you should be able to control me, why I'm rude to people-I didn't notice it myself. It's weird, think about yourself This misfortune to get caught in—like a fly stuck in molasses—but in the end it's not me that governs you, it's yours that governs me." Norma stood firm.She looked at John Stalling Freed carefully, as if looking at something she already knew from a completely different point of view.Then she smiled, sweetly—like a happy nanny. "All right," she said. She walked across the house to Poirot. "I was rude, too," she said. "I came to you the other day at breakfast and I said I was too old for you to help, and I'm being rude to say that. And it's not true... ..." She put her hands on him and kissed him. "Go and get us a cab," she said to Stanley Freed. Sterling Foley nodded and went out of the house.Mrs. Oliver got her handbag and a fur neckerchief, and Norma put on her coat and followed her to the door. "Ma'am, please wait a moment—" Mrs. Oliver turned round.Poirot picked up a beautiful lock of gray curls from between the sofa cushions. Mrs. Oliver exclaimed in a fit of rage. "Everything is the same now. There's nothing good! I'm talking about bobby pins. When you loosen them, everything falls out!" She walked out frowning. Presently she put her head through the door again, and whispered slyly: "You can tell me—it doesn't matter, I sent her to you anyway—did you send the girl to this doctor on purpose?" "Certainly. His qualifications—" "Who cares about his qualifications. You know what I mean, he and her—you set it up?" "If you must ask, yes." "I suppose so," said Mrs. Oliver; "you have a good sense, don't you?"