He knew well that many people went around with borrowed identities... mostly borrowed from people who died in tragic circumstances in the big cities.
There were organizations who bought or faked I.D. cards - there were hundreds of kinds of small illegal activities around.
It was possible to check - but it would take a lot of time, time he didn't have since the widow of Randall Goedler was dying soon.
It was then, tired and worried, bathed in sunlight, that he told Miss Marple the story of Randall Goedler and Pip and Emma.
"Two names, nothing more," he said.
"Nicknames, after all!
They may not exist.
They may be respectable citizens living somewhere in Europe. Or one of them or both could be here in Chipping Cleghorn." About twenty-five years old... who could they be?
He went on:
"The nephew and niece... or cousins, or whatever... for how long didn't she see them, I would like to know..."
"I'll try to find out," said Miss Marple quietly.
"For God's sake, don't, Miss Marple..."
"It's going to be easy, Inspector, don't you worry.
And nobody will pay attention, since it won't be official.
If there's something wrong it's better not to alarm them, isn't it?"
Pip and Emma, thought Craddock.
Pip and Emma?
It had become an obsession to him.
The good-looking smart boy, the beautiful girl with cold eyes...
"I may discover something about them in the next forty-eight hours," he said.
"I'm going to Scotland.
If she is able to talk, Mrs. Goedler may tell me something about Pip and Emma."
Chapter 11 MISS MARPLE COMES TO TEA
If Letitia Blacklog seemed slightly absentminded when Mrs. Harmon came to tea and brought a guest who was staying with her, Miss Marple, the guest in question, was hardly likely to notice the fact since it was the first time she had met her.
The old lady was very charming in her gentle gossipy fashion.
She revealed herself almost at once to be one of those old ladies who have a constant preoccupation with burglars.
"They can get in anywhere, my dear," she assured her hostess, "absolutely anywhere nowadays.
So many new American methods.
I myself pin my faith to a very old-fashioned device.
A cabin hook and eye.
They can pick locks and draw back bolts but a brass hook and eye defeats them.
Have you ever tried that?"
"I'm afraid we're not very good at bolts and bars," said Miss Blacklog cheerfully.
"There's really nothing much to burgle."
"A chain on the front door," Miss Marple advised.
"Then the maid need only open it a crack and see who is there and they can't force their way in."
"I expect Mitzi, our Mittel European, would love that."
"The hold-up you had must have been very, very frightening," said Miss Marple.
"Bunch has been telling me all about it."
"I was scared stiff," said Bunch.
"It was an alarming experience," admitted Miss Blacklog.
"It really seems like Providence that the man tripped himself up and shot himself.
These burglars are so violent nowadays.
How did he get in?"
"Well, I'm afraid we don't lock our doors much."
"Oh, Letty," exclaimed Miss Bunner.
"I forgot to tell you the Inspector was most peculiar this morning.
He insisted on opening the second door - you know - the one that's never been opened - the one over there.
He hunted for the key and everything and said the door had been oiled.
But I can't see why because -" Too late she got Miss Blacklog's signal to be quiet, and paused open-mouthed.