dropped his case. And his hands would seem to have been sweating on that cool October mountain. It made an interesting picture: he filed it away in his mind.
Evans continued: ‘You’ll say I was dumb not to have connected the case with Kincaid, but when we found it Kincaid hadn’t been mentioned in the business. I showed it to Overton and Heslington and the rest of the party, and none of them admitted having seen it before. Then Overton rang me from his hotel; he wanted to have the initials again. When I gave them to him he told me that they were the same as Kincaid’s. I got them to look at the case again, especially the snapshot inside it, but none of them would commit themselves to a positive identification.
‘But now, with Kincaid’s name brought in, we could begin to see daylight. The next step was to inquire whether he’d been seen in the district. And you know how it is once you’ve got the right lead — people tumble over themselves to give you a helping hand. I got a call from Llanberis to say a young man had been in there. On the day of the crime he’d stopped at Llanberis and had coffee at the Snowdon Cafe. While he was having it he saw another customer who looked like the pictures of Kincaid, and since we were investigating Fleece’s accident he thought we might like to know.
‘That started it. I went to Llanberis directly. In a couple of hours we had Kincaid properly taped. He’d been making inquiries about his wife — that’s the story he tells, anyway — and he’d given his name and some particulars at a boarding-house he’d inquired at. Then he was remembered at the Snowdon Cafe, where they packed him some sandwiches, and was seen heading up the street towards where the Llanberis track begins. To round it off he returned at four and took a local hire-car back to Caernarvon. He was dropped at the Bangor Hotel, where he had booked for two nights.’
Gently asked: ‘Did anyone notice how he was dressed?’
‘Oh yes. He was wearing a tweed jacket and slacks.’
‘The same as Heslington described?’
‘Well… the slacks must have been lovat. But he had on a brown jacket, and I found the clothes at his hotel here.’
‘What’s his story?’
‘He admits he was there all right. Couldn’t very well deny it, in the face of the evidence. I came up here yesterday as fast as I could, and I had a long talk with him down at Bow Street Station.’
‘Where did he say he went?’
‘Not up Snowdon, you can bet your life! No, a nice lonely scramble up to the Devil’s Kitchen. I’ve given Llanberis a tinkle to have them check his story. There might have been climbers from Ogwen who can give him the lie.’
‘So you’ve no independent testimony to show he actually climbed Snowdon?’
‘Wait a minute!’ Evans ventured a wink. ‘You’re getting along too fast. Of course, I made some inquiries at the bottom of the track, and I’ve two witnesses who saw someone like him going up at about half-past ten.’
‘Would that fit in?’
‘It couldn’t be better for us. Like that he would arrive there around twenty minutes before Heslington.’
‘How good is the identification?’
‘Well, I admit it might be stronger. They only saw him through their windows, and the houses stand back, like. But then I’ve a separate witness who saw him coming down again. There isn’t much doubt, man. I had to charge him on the facts.’
‘Mmn.’ Gently scratched a match. ‘And you showed him the cigarette-case?’
‘Of course. And it shook him. He pretended he couldn’t remember it.’
‘Is that snapshot anything like him?’
‘It might have been him at one time. They’re going to blow it up for me and try a superimposing job.’
The Assistant Commissioner removed his glasses and gave them a polish with a handkerchief. He beamed from one to the other. ‘So now you see, Gently,’ he said. ‘As long as Kincaid is Kincaid we’ve got a good fighting case; but if he isn’t, then our best evidence is tantamount to irrelevant. It doesn’t matter that we can show he was up that mountain. It doesn’t matter that we can show he was standing on the cairn. We’ve got to show that he had a motive for shoving Fleece over the edge, otherwise his defence can write it off as an accident.’
Gently reached for the cigarette-case. ‘This is a paradox in itself, of course…
‘How do you mean, Gently?’ The Assistant Commissioner shot him a quick look.
‘Well… if Kincaid isn’t Kincaid, how did he come by this case? And if Kincaid is Kincaid, where did he get it from?’
The A.C. swung his glasses for a moment. Then he said: ‘Yes… I take your point. The first involves us in a wild coincidence; the second in a wild improbability. It’s difficult to believe that a mere hoaxer could have acquired the case, and even more difficult to believe that Kincaid would still possess it. In the first place he would hardly have taken it with him up Everest. It’s solid silver and weighty. He’d have left it behind.’
‘Just so.’ Gently took a sight down his pipe at the trinket. ‘And that leaves the situation rather open, don’t you agree? He left it behind — a likely souvenir for some other member of the party. And they were each and all of them on Snowdon when, or soon after, Fleece got the push.’
Evans flushed like a turkey-cock, his eyes growing rounder. ‘My God!’ he exclaimed. ‘What a stupid fellow I am! I never looked at it that way…’
‘There could be some explanation.’
‘No man — you’ve hit it. You’ve hit the nail on the head!’
‘Hold it, everyone.’ The A.C.’s voice came drily. ‘Let’s try to preserve our sense of proportion about this.’ He went on polishing his glasses, finally setting them back on his nose. He said to Evans: ‘Now you know why we’re all so fond of Gently!’
‘But it’s true, sir,’ Evans blurted. ‘You have only to consider-’
‘It’s true that, as usual, Gently has holed a neat case. But he hasn’t knocked it down, Evans, so don’t despond yet. A little routine investigation may stop the hole up again. And, Gently, that’s just what I’ve called you in to do: a little routine investigation into the antecedents of Kincaid. I’ve spoken to the Public Prosecutor about it and you were the man he asked to have assigned — so there you are: that’s the job. You’re to give us Kincaid’s identity on a platter.’
Gently stirred his feet disapprovingly.
‘Hasn’t some investigation been done?’
‘Yes.’ The Assistant Commissioner picked up a file which had been lying in his ‘Action’ tray. ‘Here you are, for what it’s worth. It traces Kincaid back to Kathmandu. It says also that the house he lived in was blitzed and so, too, was the registry office where he was married. And we drew a blank with the Press files.’
‘In fact, it bristles with leads.’
The Assistant Commissioner grinned impishly. ‘For your sake, I hope this doesn’t involve another ascent of Everest. But at least you’d have a reason, unlike these queer types who do it. I’ve often wondered what it is, Gently, that makes an Everesteer tick.’
His grin broadened and he added:
‘But what a draw it would be for tourists! For the price of a bomb, one could run a funicular up Everest.’
CHAPTER TWO
Gently took Evans down to the canteen and bought him a consoling cup of coffee. In spite of the A.C.’s careful handling, the Welsh inspector was down in the dumps. He’d sat in silence in Gently’s office while the latter had read through the Kincaid file, then he’d answered a few random questions. But his attention had plainly been wandering.
‘It just goes to show, man…’
Now he was moping over his coffee, the red flush still clinging to his straight, smooth-skinned features. He was in his forties, but he looked boyish, his hair and eyebrows being fair. He was tall and hard-framed: an ex- rugby-player, probably.
‘We don’t see much excitement in Caernarvon, look you. I had visions of making myself on a case like this. And it all went so easy, that was the whole trouble about it. One thing led to another… I got too cocky, by far.’
