She led the way downstairs and pushed open the study door.
Near the window there was a large cupboard.
Julia pulled it open and disclosed a heterogeneous mass of objects.
"Junk," said Julia. "All junk.
But elderly people simply will not throw things away."
The Inspector knelt down and took a couple of old-fashioned albums from the bottom shelf.
"Are these they?"
"Yes."
Miss Blacklog came in and joined them.
"Oh, so that's where we put them.
I couldn't remember."
Craddock had the books on the table and was turning the pages.
Women in large cartwheel hats, women with dresses tapering down to their feet so that they could hardly walk.
The photos had captions neatly printed underneath them, but the ink was old and faded.
"It would be in this one," said Miss Blacklog.
"On about the second or third page.
The other book is after Sonia had married and gone away."
She turned a page.
"It ought to be here."
She stopped.
There were several empty spaces on the page.
Craddock bent down and deciphered the faded writing.
"Sonia... Self... R.G."
A little farther along,
"Sonia and Belle on beach."
And again on the opposite page,
"Picnic at Skeyne."
He turned over another page,
"Charlotte, Self, Sonia. R.G."
Craddock stood up.
His lips were grim.
"Somebody has removed these photographs - not long ago, I should say."
"There weren't any blank spaces when we looked at them the other day.
Were there, Julia?"
"I didn't look very closely - only at some of the dresses.
But no... you're right, Aunt Letty, there weren't any blank spaces."
Craddock looked grimmer still.
"Somebody," he said, "has removed every photo of Sonia Goedler from this album."
Chapter 18 THE LETTERS
"Sorry to worry you again, Mrs. Haymes."
"It doesn't matter," said Phillipa coldly.
"Shall we go into this room here?"
"The study?
Yes, if you like, Inspector. It's very cold.
There's no fire."
"It doesn't matter.
It's not for long.
And we're not so likely to be overheard here."
"Does that matter?"
"Not to me, Mrs. Haymes.