“Say, it looks a lot like the bridge which was built over the river,” he observed. “You think this picture is a copy of it?”
Penny shook her head impatiently. “Salt, your knowledge of art is dreadful. This Van Gogh was painted ages ago and is priceless. Don’t you see, the drawbridge has to be a copy of the picture?”
“Your theory sounds reasonable,” Salt admitted. “I wonder who gave the painting to the bride? There’s no name attached.”
“Can’t you guess why?”
“I never was good at kid games.”
“Why, it’s clear as crystal,” Penny declared, keeping her voice low. “This estate with the drawbridge was built by Clayton Kippenberg. He must have been familiar with the Van Gogh painting, and had the real bridge modeled after the picture. For that matter, the painting may have been in his possession—”
“Then you think the picture was presented to Sylvia Kippenberg by her father?” Salt broke in quickly.
“Yes, I do. Only a person very close to the bride would have given such a gift.”
“H-m,” said Salt, squinting at the picture thoughtfully. “If you’re right it means that Clayton Kippenberg’s whereabouts must be known to his family. His disappearance may not be such a deep mystery to Mamma Kippenberg and daughter Sylvia.”
“Oh, Salt, wouldn’t it make a grand story if only we could learn what became of him?”