Eight RIDDLE¹ OF A PHOTOGRAPH
They stared at each other as they tried to adjust themselves to the alteredsituation.
“It couldn’t be anyone else,” said Bobby. “He was the only person whohad the chance.”
“Unless, as we said, there were two photographs.”
“We agreed that that wasn’t likely. If there had been two photographsthey’d have tried to identify him by means of both of them—not only one.”
“Anyway, that’s easily found out,” said Frankie. “We can ask the police.
We’ll assume for the moment that there was just the one photograph, theone you saw that you put back again in his pocket. It was there when youleft him, and it wasn’t there when the police came, therefore the only per-son who could have taken it away and put the other one in its place wasthis man Bassington-ffrench. What was he like, Bobby?”
Bobby frowned in the effort of remembrance.
“A sort of nondescript fellow. Pleasant voice. A gentleman and all that. Ireally didn’t notice him particularly. He said that he was a stranger downhere—and something about looking for a house.”
“We can verify that, anyway,” said Frankie. “Wheeler & Owen are theonly house agents.” Suddenly she gave a shiver. “Bobby, have youthought? If Pritchard was pushed over—Bassington-ffrench must be theman who did it. .?.?.”
“That’s pretty grim,” said Bobby. “He seemed such a nice pleasant sort offellow. But you know, Frankie, we can’t be sure he really was pushedover.”
“You have been all along.”
“No, I just wanted it to be that way because it made things more excit-ing. But now it’s more or less proved. If it was murder everything fits in.
Your unexpected appearance which upsets the murderer’s plans. Your dis-covery of the photograph and, in consequence, the need to put you out ofthe way.”
“There’s a flaw there,” said Bobby.
“Why?” You were the only person who saw that photograph. As soon asBassington-ffrench was left alone with the body he changed the photo-graph which only you had seen.”
But Bobby continued to shake his head.
“No, that won’t do. Let’s grant for the moment that that photograph wasso important that I had to be ‘got out of the way,’ as you put it. Sounds ab-surd but I suppose it’s just possible. Well, then, whatever was going to bedone would have to be done at once. The fact that I went to London andnever saw the Marchbolt Weekly Times or the other papers with the photo-graph in it was just pure chance—a thing nobody could count on. Theprobability was that I should say at once, ‘That isn’t the photograph I saw.’

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