Epitaph for a Spy Read Online Free PDF Page A

and in standard cases. But where and when were they changed? Not at Nice, for you told me that you took your camera back to the hotel and packed it. Not on your journey, because it was under lock and key in your suitcase during the entire time. It was at the Réserve that the change was made. If the change was accidental, then it could only have been made in one of the public rooms. At what time? You broughtyour camera down at breakfast-time yesterday, you tell me. Where did you have breakfast?”
    “On the terrace.”
    “Did you take the camera with you?”
    “No. I left it in its case on one of the chairs in the hall to pick up as I went through into the garden afterwards.”
    “At what time did you go to breakfast?”
    “At about half past eight.”
    “And to the gardens?”
    “About an hour later.”
    “And then you took photographs?”
    “Yes.”
    “At what time did you return?”
    “It was nearly twelve.”
    “What did you do?”
    “I went straight to my room and removed the exposed spool.”
    “Then you did not leave your camera before you started photographing your lizards except for an hour between eight thirty and nine thirty?”
    “No.”
    “And during that time it was on a chair by the door leading to the garden.”
    “Yes.”
    “Now think carefully. Was the camera in the same position when you picked it up as it was when you put it down?”
    I thought carefully.
    “No, it was not,” I said at last. “I left it hanging by the strap of the case on the back of one of the chairs. When I picked it up it was lying on the seat of another chair.”
    “You did not look to see if it was still hanging where you had left it?”
    “Why, no. I saw it on the seat of the chair and took it. Why should I look?”
    “You might have noticed if there was still a camera hanging on the back of the chair.”
    “It would be easy not to. The strap is long so that the actual camera case would hang below the seat level of the chair.”
    “Good. So it amounts to this: you hang a camera on the back of a chair. When you return you see an identical camera on the seat of another chair. Thinking that this is your property, you take it, leaving your camera where you put it on the back of the original chair. Presumably, then, the owner of the second camera later arrives, finds his camera missing from the seat of the chair, looks round and discovers yours.”
    “It seems likely.”
    “Were all the guests down to breakfast?”
    “I don’t know. There are only eighteen rooms at the Réserve and they are not all occupied, but I had only arrived the previous night. I would not know. But everyone going downstairs and through the hall would pass the chairs.”
    “Then, my good Vadassy, we can say with reasonable confidence that one of those now staying at the Réserve is the person who owns this camera and who took those photographs. But which? I think we may leave out the waiters and servants, for they are all from this village or near-by villages. We shall, of course, make inquiries, but they will, I think, give us nothing. There are, besides, ten guests, the managerKöche and his wife. Now, Vadassy, the guilty one had your camera, a Zeiss Ikon Contax identical to this one here. It is you will realize, obviously quite impossible for us to arrest the entire
pension
and search everyone’s luggage. Apart from the fact that several are foreigners whose consuls would be troublesome, we might fail to find the camera. In that case the guilty one would be on his guard and we should be helpless. Inquiries,” he went on pointedly, “must be made by someone whose presence would arouse no suspicion, who could find out discreetly who has been seen with a Contax camera.”
    “You mean me?”
    “You might proceed very simply by finding out which of them have cameras. Those that have cameras but not Contax cameras may be less under suspicion than those who have no cameras. You see, Vadassy, the person who has your camera may know by