Martin (to himself): The investigation is over. (He continues as he leaves, after getting permission.) Everything is clear. The killer is naive. I thought I would find a connection between the castle murder and this one—"aconite." It's a poison that's hard to detect with our current technology. Its effect is slow if the dose is small. (He walks down the street with his right hand on his chin.) In other words, the victim didn't ingest the poison in the restaurant, but shortly before that. David knew this when he approached the victim and lied when he said the poison was in his hand—to give the impression to the killer that he was clever, so the criminal would feel safe, thinking his plan had worked. But when did he tell the inspector he was lying? I was watching him closely… no matter, what matters now is: what caused Michael's personality to change? I need to look into this before evening.
Neil: Maybe I'll wait for him to go to the bathroom or catch him in a moment of distraction, then pour it into his cup.
Sam: I don't know, maybe the same answer as Neil.
David (chuckling lightly, then saying): That's not what I meant. I meant how would you get it on his hands? Do you remember? We found the poison on them.
Frank: I don't know. Maybe I'd put it in the glass he's holding.
Sam: Somewhere I know he'll touch—like his face, clothes, or the table.
Neil: I agree with you...
David: Excellent... After hearing your answers, I can say that the killer is—(points)—you.
Sam (shocked): Frank?!
Neil (also stunned): I can't believe it...
David (short laugh): It's not impossible. He's the only one who had a motive...
Frank (shouting): Yes, but that's not proof!
David: Fine. Can you tell me what your research is about?
Frank (without hesitation): It's about aconite!
David (smiling confidently): And what are its symptoms, the ones you discovered? You better be honest—I have a friend whose expertise in this field goes beyond what you can imagine.
Frank: Simply, it causes numbness—(he falls silent, a shocked expression on his face as David stares at him victoriously).
David (with that look): The poison comes from a mountain plant. The smallest dose causes death within hours... You made the plant touch his face using a handkerchief. You could just say "there's something on your face," and before he could respond, you pull out the handkerchief—with the plant inside—and wipe his face carefully to ensure a small dose. Also, you're the one who invited them all here, right?
Frank (in despair): Yes, everything you said is true. I couldn't find a better way. I killed him with what he stole... I couldn't bear watching my work being stolen under this wretched system. (He slams the table in regret.)
Michael (with pity): Despite everything you said, there's no justification for murder. No matter the motive—drugs, stealing lives—nothing can justify reaching that point.
Martin (to himself as he walks down the street): It's four in the afternoon. Four hours left before the meeting. I'll use them to review the plan. I'll roam the city looking for something I might be able to use later. (He stops in front of a building that looks abandoned and old, debris all over, a fence of iron bars around it. He sits, staring at it, intrigued by a symbol.) What is this mark? (He pulls out his notebook and starts drawing it.) A circle with an equilateral triangle inside, dividing the circle into three parts. On the right point: a 3. On the left: the letter "F." And at the bottom—(he pauses to process)—the queen! (The chess piece.) It's the most powerful piece. Many players crumble when it's taken… but what does its presence here mean—especially since there's a black dot in the center of the triangle? This building seems full of secrets. (He smiles broadly.)
An old man approaches with a cane—short, wearing small round glasses, a green shirt, and brown pants. He stands in front of the building, staring at it carefully.
Martin: Excuse me, sir, it seems this building holds dear memories for you?
Old Man (smiling nostalgically): Ah, it's an old orphanage. I used to work here. I come here every day to remember the good old days. Around this time, the children used to gather behind that tree with a box full of wooden pieces and a large board.
Martin (shows him the notebook): Do you recognize this symbol?
Old Man: I do. It was on the wooden pieces I told you about. There were many—too many to count.
Martin (asking the old man): Can I go inside? I'd like to explore the orphanage.
Old Man: I don't work here anymore, so I have no authority. Do as you wish.
Martin: You're right.
After climbing over to the other side, Martin heads straight to a drawing on the wall and places his palm next to it.
Martin (to himself): If we analyze this carefully, the number 3 and the letter F represent the square where the paths meet. Most likely, the queen is in that square. In other words, there are pieces showing all possible positions the queen can be in—but not just her, all the pieces. (He walks around the orphanage until he notices a medium-sized rock with a different symbol.) This one shows the knight: "6, white dot, H." Wait a second—I remember the intersection of path 3 and F is a white square too. (Puts his hand on his chin.) Does that mean it's wrong? I won't rush to judgment—I'll look for more markings. (He looks beside the rock.) What's this? (He shifts it slightly.) There's a box buried under the dirt. (He blows the dust away and opens it.) Amazing—these are the pieces! (His face fills with surprise.) This piece has the same marking as on the rock—but another piece with the same coordinates has a different color dot... It's clear: the color of the dot matches the color of the piece. In other words, the wall symbol is for the black queen. Seems the children of this orphanage were clever enough to invent a whole new method.
Martin leaves the orphanage with a broad smile and hands the old man one of the pieces.
Martin: They were brilliant.
Old Man: Yes, I still remember when one of the children came up with this system...
Martin: He was gifted.
Old Man (nodding): His name was Alexander. He was only eight...
Martin (shocked, thoughts racing): When was this place abandoned?
Old Man (surprised): Something wrong? Just hearing a child's name changed your expression.
Martin (faking a smile, steadying himself): Oh, nothing like that. I was just surprised that my dear friend came from this orphanage.
Old Man (smirking): Your friend? How can you be sure he's your friend when I didn't even mention his surname? There are millions with that name.
Martin (to himself): A cunning old man. (Then answers confidently.) He has no surname—he told me that himself. He's searching for his father.
Old Man: Fair enough. Seems he told you a lot. Not surprising for a boy like him—curious to learn about his father's identity. But I'm sorry to tell you, your friend isn't the one I meant. The boy I'm talking about lost both his parents as a baby. Their deaths remain a mystery... Why did you lie to me? You never had a friend by that name.
Martin: So, you caught me?
Old Man: Never underestimate someone who worked here. He was a special kid, loved the game... always said he'd defeat the champion one day.
Martin (to himself): He is the one...
Old Man: Instead of just drawing the pieces and board, he said this method helped plan moves. In other words, he'd design his strategy before playing—stacking the wooden pieces on top of each other based on his plan.
Martin: I see. Among the hundreds of pieces, I have to choose carefully. So they were imagining a real board?
Old Man: Yes, placing the first move on the ground, the second on top of it... It helped them with memory. But I don't know why he ran away.
Martin: Ran away?
Old Man: Ah, one day we found his bed empty. The kids searched everywhere but couldn't find him... A few weeks later—about a month—the orphanage burned down, with everyone inside. Only I and four children survived.
Martin: So that's what happened... what a
tragic event. (He continues running off, waving his hand.) Goodbye, old man. Thanks for the info.