The List of Adrian Messenger Page #3

What l said was,

''Photograph George''.

''MS''.

What is this ''MS''?

Its an abbreviation for manuscript.

What he was saying was, ''there's a

photo of George in his manuscript.''

Let's go. We will visit

the residence of Mr. Messenger.

When you count yourself in,

you really mean in, don't you?

Come on.

-You startled me.

-Im sorry.

-Who are you?

-Im Mr. Pythian. l live below.

Poor Mr. Messenger's cat was

meowing so pitifully. Probably hungry.

l stopped in to feed her.

l promised Mr. Messenger l would.

She's already had three saucers

of warm milk, haven't you, puss.

-You're very kind.

-Not in the least. Poor Mr. Messenger.

What a tragic loss.

He was such a polite man. We only had

a passing acquaintance on the stairs.

Im his cousin.

My deepest sympathy.

Tell me.

What's to become of little puss?

Ill take her.

You are a cat lover, of course.

One knows instantly,

there's an immediate affinity.

Two things that are equal to

a third are equal to each other.

Whoever loves cats, etc.

you get my point.

-Yes.

-l guess l better be going.

-Good night, Mr. Pythian.

-Good night to you, and puss.

-Thanks again.

-Not at all.

Taxi!

Fulham Road.

Jocelyn, what brings you here?

l promised Adrian to look

after Omar while he was away.

It is Mr. LeBorg, isn't it?

The wine speed up my recovery,

Madame.

And the oysters.

More brawn than brains,

if he'll forgive me saying it.

We thought we'd have a look at

that unfinished book of Adrian's.

In his desk.

Center drawer.

Why?

l don't know.

Im hoping Adrian can tell us.

Any Georges?

Im afraid this is going

to take much of the night.

Ill make some coffee.

Come in.

Thank you.

Your husband will not be

alarmed that you are not at home?

My husband's dead.

He was killed in Korea with

the Gloucesters.

And you are a widow all this time?

Yes.

Appalling.

-l beg your pardon?

-Im a Frenchman. l abhor waste.

l don't understand.

You are a woman of great beauty.

You should be making happy some man.

And yourself, too.

Living alone is for

the very young and the very old.

-Im quite happy.

-No, Madame, you are not.

You should be making fine children.

-l have a son.

-No protests, Madame.

l speak only for your own welfare.

Well, thanks very much.

Le Borg.

Jocelyn.

Have you found something?

Come and have a look.

This is page 101.

Page 136.

Picked at random.

This is page 17 4.

Do you notice anything

different about them?

17 4 seems a line or two

shorter than the other two.

Look at

the capital letters on this page.

They're set higher than

these capitals on the others.

The type-face is the same so it was

obviously done on this typewriter.

But not by the same typist.

Just because

the caps are raised slightly?

That's not all.

On every other page, the semicolon is

followed professionally by one space,...

But on this page,

all three have no spaces after them.

Are you saying that somebody

broke in, removed a page...

and retyped it with alterations?

Exactly.

Adrian had reached

the point of his arrival in Burma.

This page contains names that

were obviously important to him.

Equally important one of

those names has been deleted.

Now the question is,

who did Adrian's typing?

-You might just remember.

-l know. An unforgettable name.

Gwendolynne La Doll.

With a ''YNNE''.

Mr. Pythian!

The man you're looking for.

Ive seen him.

He was in Adrian's

flat when l arrived.

You were alone with this murderer?

He couldn't be.

He was such a mousy little man.

He said his name's Pythian.

He said he lived in the flat below

and he came to feed Adrian's cat.

-Where are you going?

-To find your Mr. Pythian.

You won't find him in this building.

l think he got what he came for.

-Where are we going?

-Miss La Doll lives in Fulham Road.

Jocelyn, suppose you describe

Mr. Pythian?

lf l can.

Below medium height.

l seemed to tower over him.

Narrow little shoulders,

narrow little head.

Sharp pointed chin.

That's the man who took our taxi.

-He was not the murderer.

-You seem very positive.

l have seen the murderer. The

clergyman who did not take the plane.

He was taller than Madame,

with a square jaw, a broad face.

There're more than one person

involved. Its a conspiracy.

No, no.

Adrian was a writer.

He chose his words very carefully.

When he said,...

''nary a conspiracy'' he meant

just that. Only one man involved.

One man who becomes many men.

Miss La Doll?

Gas.

She's gone.

Poor thing.

One hour lost.

A woman whose only offense was

she made her living with a typewriter.

Ive pressed

the French gentleman's clothes, sir.

-Shall l awake him?

-No, let him sleep.

More than Ive done.

That sofa has a wild spring.

l wish you'd see it's attended to.

Yes, sir.

Come in, Pike.

-Any luck?

-Yes, sir.

l ran down the military records of

the names on Mr. Messenger's list,...

It gave us our common denominator.

Yes, l know, Burma.

-How did you know?.

-Get on with it.

Doesn't do us much good. No two

of them were in the same regiment.

Just happened to be in

the same theatre of war.

Hospital or a brothel?

Something will tie them together.

No. Messenger was never wounded.

l don't quite see him in

a brothel either.

-What about Q, R and S?

-Coming to them.

Quincy took vows, became Brother

Quintus, Order of Saint Betolph.

Crushed under the wheels of a hay

lorry which rolled down a steep hill.

-Rouce?

-Disappeared about two years ago.

-Slattery?

-He's removed from Twickenham.

No forwarding address.

But we found him.

He's set up shop in Grinidge.

14 Canon's Lane.

Good man.

One out of 11.

The sole survivor,...

and then there were none.

Unless he himself is the murderer.

Hey you!

Off it!

You don't like-a the music?

No. l never ''like-a'' the music and

l don't like your ugly face neither.

Now off it before

l change it for you.

The police say l can make-a

the music in the street.

l said off it!

-Yes, mister?

-Is Mr. Slattery about?

Not in.

Where do l find him?

Its important.

What's it about?

Wring that guinea's neck, l will.

l didn't know you was home, son.

Maybe I ain't.

What's this in aid of?.

l want to ask you some

questions about your war service.

I'd be proud to answer, sir.

Did my bit for King and Country.

Lost my barrel and keg to prove it.

Where was that?

Last seen, it was floating down

the Rhine river.

No, l want to know about

when you were in Burma.

Who says l was.

-Aren't you James Slattery?

-No, Im his brother, Joe.

Well, it's James l want to see.

That will be difficult. Six

foot under, he is. Ain't he, Ma?

How did he die?

Heart attack.

Keeled over like a canary.

But he did see service in Burma?

He had the soft end of it, he did.

Balmy tropic breezes while Im

freezing my tail in La Belle France.

He returned unscathed and look at me.

Not that Im complaining.

Duty calls and Joe Slattery is

the first to answer.

What was your regiment?

Fifth Wessex. Third Battalion,

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