“I do,” he replied. “The correspondence seems complete in every detail, so far as I can judge. That was why I secured the photograph. But the actual resemblance will have to be settled by her. I suggest that you take the portrait and let her see it; but you had better not show it to her pointedly for identification. It would be better to put it in some place where she will see it without previous suggestion or preparation. But you said just now ‘to begin with.’ Was there anything else that struck you about this photograph?”
“Yes,” I answered, “there was; a most amazing thing. You remember my telling you about the patient I attended in Morris’ house?”
“The man who died of gastric cancer and was eventually cremated?”
“Yes. His name was Bendelow. Well, this photograph might have been a portrait of Bendelow, taken with a beard and moustache before the disease got hold of him. Excepting for the emaciation and the beard—Bendelow was clean-shaved—I should think it would be quite an excellent likeness of him.”
Thorndyke made no immediate reply or comment, but sat quite still, looking at me with a very singular expression. I could see that he was thinking rapidly and intensely, but I suspected that his thoughts were in a good deal less confusion than mine had been.
“It is,” he remarked at length, “as you say, a most amazing affair. The face is no ordinary face. It would be difficult to mistake it, and one would have to go far to find another with which it could be confused. Still, one must not forget the possibility of a chance resemblance. Nature doesn’t take out letters-patent even for a human face. But I will ask you, Gray, to write down and send to me all that you know about the late Mr. Bendelow, including all the details of your attendance on him, dead and alive.”
“I will,” said I, “though it is difficult to imagine what connexion he could have had with the D’Arblay case.”
“It seems incredible that he could have had any,” Thorndyke agreed. “But at present we are collecting facts, and we must note everything impartially. It is a fatal mistake to select your facts in accordance with the apparent probabilities. By the way, if Bendelow was like this photograph he must have corresponded pretty exactly with Miss D’Arblay’s very complete and lucid description. I wonder why you did not realize that at the time.”
“That is what I have been wondering. But I suppose it was the beard and the absence of any kind of association between Bendelow and the D’Arblays.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “A beard and moustache alters very greatly even a striking face like this. Incidentally, it illustrates the superiority of a picture over a verbal description for purposes of identification. No mere description will enable you to visualize correctly a face which you have never seen. I shall be curious to hear what Miss D’Arblay has to say about this photograph.”