time in December, so we have it all to ourselves and don’t have to worry about being heard through the walls.
“We don’t have much time. Today is the fifth, and he’ll be here the night of the thirteenth. In addition, I have to go to Nassau and New York—”
“Why?”
“Simply to prove I’ve been there. When I resigned and left on this trip, Miami Beach, Nassau, and New York were the three places I was going. If I changed my plans and spent all my time here it might look suspicious afterwards, especially since this is the place Harris Chapman is going to disappear. So I’ll go to both places long enough to send the usual asinine postcards and bring back some souvenir gifts. That means I’ll be gone from here about four days of the eight we have in which to coach you. However, we’ll use the tape recorder and you’ll have the tapes to study while I’m gone.”
“You’re sure he’s coming here?”
Yes. I made all the reservations for him. He goes on one big-game fishing trip every year, for his vacation. For the past two years he’s gone to Acapulco, but this time he’s coming to Florida again.”
“And somewhere along the line I’m going to take his place?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
”Just under two weeks. I think it can be done in twelve days.”
“Describe him,” I said.
“Apart from the fact you’re both about six feet, you don’t resemble each other at all, if that’s what you mean.”
“What else would I mean? You don’t think he’s going to be invisible for those twelve days, do you? He may be a voice on the telephone to the people at home, but down here— But never mind. Go ahead and describe him.”
“He’s thirty-nine. Six feet. A hundred and ninety-five pounds. Gray eyes. Somewhat fair complexion, always with a tan. Brown hair, beginning to gray at the temples except that he touches it up.”
“That’ll do,” I said. “I’m twenty-eight. The height is the same within probably an inch, but I’m fifteen pounds lighter. Blue eyes. Darker complexion. And hair that’s just a shade from being black. Q.E.D.”
“It’s nowhere near that simple,” she cut in impatiently. “In the first place, any police officer could write a book on the general unreliability of descriptions. And secondly, if you’ve had acting experience, you should know what I m driving at. You’re not merely trying to look like Harris Chapman—you’re assuming the whole character of Harris Chapman. And further, this same character projected quite logically into a strange and finally shattering experience—which is going to be what the witnesses will remember, and not the color of his hair. Incidentally, he wears a hat anyway. You’re simply going to make them remember the wrong things.”
“Such as?”
“Let me give you a brief sketch for a start. He’s quite vain about his appearance, uses a sun lamp in winter to keep his tan intact, and wears a thin, pencil-line mustache because he thinks his upper hp is too long. He has a tendency toward hypochondria and carries round a miniature drugstore with him, and worries constantly and probably needlessly about two things—cancer and mental illness, the latter because he has an older brother who cracked up in his late teens. When that smoking and lung cancer thing first started several years ago, he not only switched over to filter cigarettes, but smoked them in a filter holder.
“He wears glasses—horn-rims—and is somewhat hard of hearing in his left ear, the result of a diving accident when he was sixteen, though he refuses to admit it and claims his hearing is perfect in both ears. I’m perhaps making him sound doddering and fatuous, which he isn’t at all; he’s a hellishly attractive man with a lot of drive, but I’m stressing these quirks and idiosyncrasies for a reason—”
“Sure,” I said impatiently. “They’re character tags, and props. But, look—so I do wear horn-rimmed glasses, grow a mustache, use a long
“We don’t have much time. Today is the fifth, and he’ll be here the night of the thirteenth. In addition, I have to go to Nassau and New York—”
“Why?”
“Simply to prove I’ve been there. When I resigned and left on this trip, Miami Beach, Nassau, and New York were the three places I was going. If I changed my plans and spent all my time here it might look suspicious afterwards, especially since this is the place Harris Chapman is going to disappear. So I’ll go to both places long enough to send the usual asinine postcards and bring back some souvenir gifts. That means I’ll be gone from here about four days of the eight we have in which to coach you. However, we’ll use the tape recorder and you’ll have the tapes to study while I’m gone.”
“You’re sure he’s coming here?”
Yes. I made all the reservations for him. He goes on one big-game fishing trip every year, for his vacation. For the past two years he’s gone to Acapulco, but this time he’s coming to Florida again.”
“And somewhere along the line I’m going to take his place?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
”Just under two weeks. I think it can be done in twelve days.”
“Describe him,” I said.
“Apart from the fact you’re both about six feet, you don’t resemble each other at all, if that’s what you mean.”
“What else would I mean? You don’t think he’s going to be invisible for those twelve days, do you? He may be a voice on the telephone to the people at home, but down here— But never mind. Go ahead and describe him.”
“He’s thirty-nine. Six feet. A hundred and ninety-five pounds. Gray eyes. Somewhat fair complexion, always with a tan. Brown hair, beginning to gray at the temples except that he touches it up.”
“That’ll do,” I said. “I’m twenty-eight. The height is the same within probably an inch, but I’m fifteen pounds lighter. Blue eyes. Darker complexion. And hair that’s just a shade from being black. Q.E.D.”
“It’s nowhere near that simple,” she cut in impatiently. “In the first place, any police officer could write a book on the general unreliability of descriptions. And secondly, if you’ve had acting experience, you should know what I m driving at. You’re not merely trying to look like Harris Chapman—you’re assuming the whole character of Harris Chapman. And further, this same character projected quite logically into a strange and finally shattering experience—which is going to be what the witnesses will remember, and not the color of his hair. Incidentally, he wears a hat anyway. You’re simply going to make them remember the wrong things.”
“Such as?”
“Let me give you a brief sketch for a start. He’s quite vain about his appearance, uses a sun lamp in winter to keep his tan intact, and wears a thin, pencil-line mustache because he thinks his upper hp is too long. He has a tendency toward hypochondria and carries round a miniature drugstore with him, and worries constantly and probably needlessly about two things—cancer and mental illness, the latter because he has an older brother who cracked up in his late teens. When that smoking and lung cancer thing first started several years ago, he not only switched over to filter cigarettes, but smoked them in a filter holder.
“He wears glasses—horn-rims—and is somewhat hard of hearing in his left ear, the result of a diving accident when he was sixteen, though he refuses to admit it and claims his hearing is perfect in both ears. I’m perhaps making him sound doddering and fatuous, which he isn’t at all; he’s a hellishly attractive man with a lot of drive, but I’m stressing these quirks and idiosyncrasies for a reason—”
“Sure,” I said impatiently. “They’re character tags, and props. But, look—so I do wear horn-rimmed glasses, grow a mustache, use a long
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