Eerie chess photo

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  • Eerie chess photo

    Here's an eerie chess photo that brings to mind the old 'Shadow' radio programme introduction, 'Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows! "

    http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/arti...ion-rally.html

  • #2
    Re: Eerie chess photo

    From the horrific to the ridiculous (to our ears): The Shadow - The Chess Club Murders

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    • #3
      Re: Eerie chess photo

      Originally posted by Stephen Wright View Post
      From the horrific to the ridiculous (to our ears): The Shadow - The Chess Club Murders
      I rather found the 'Blue Coal' ads amusing (:

      As to the wont ineptitude of 'The Shadow', we can certainly blame that on Jerry Divine (:

      http://thelivingshadow.wikia.com/wiki/Jerry_Devine

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      • #4
        Re: Eerie chess photo

        And in the truth trumps fiction department we have:

        http://www.chesshistory.com/winter/extra/wallace.html

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        • #5
          Re: Eerie chess photo

          And in 1943 Stephen Leacock wrote a story about a murderer going to the chess club.

          Pawn to King's Four

          by Stephen Leacock

          "Pawn to King's Four," I said as I sat down to
          the chess table.

          "Pawn to King's Four, eh?" said Letherby,
          squaring himself comfortably to the old oak
          table, his elbows on its wide margin, his atti-
          tude that of the veteran player. "Pawn to
          King's Four," he repeated. "Aha, let's see!"

          It's the first and oldest move in chess, but
          from the way Letherby said it you'd think it
          was as new as yesterday. . .Chess players are
          like that... "Pawn to King's Four," he re-
          peated. "You don't mind if ! take a bit of a
          think over it?"

          "No, no," I said, "not at all. Play as slowly
          as you like. 1 want to get a good look round
          this wonderful room."

          It was the first time I had ever been in the
          Long Room of the Chess Club — and I sat
          entranced with the charm and silence of the
          long wainscoted room — its soft light, the blue
          tobacco smoke rising to the ceiling — the open
          grate fires burning — the spaced out tables, the
          players with bent heads, unheeding our entry
          and our presence. . .all silent except here and
          there a little murmur of conversation, that rose
          only to hush again.

          "Pawn to King's Four" — repeated
          Letherby — "let me see!"

          It was, I say, my first visit to the Chess Club;
          indeed I had never known where it was except
          that it was somewhere down town, right in the
          heart of the city, among the big buildings. Nor
          did I know Letherby himself very well, though
          I had always understood he was a chess
          player. He looked like one. He had the long,
          still face, the unmoving eyes, the leathery,
          indoor complexion that marks the habitual
          chess player anywhere.

          . . .

          I was glad when the waiter came with a sec-
          ond glass of Madeira. It warmed one up. . .

          "That man seems a wonderful waiter,"

          "Fred?" said Letherby. "Oh yes, he cer-
          tainly is... He looks after everything — he's
          devoted to the club."

          "Been here long?"

          "Bishop to Bishop's Four," said
          Letherby... He didn't speak for a little while.
          Then he said, "Why practically all his
          life — except, poor fellow, he had a kind of
          tragic experience. He put in ten years in jail. "

          "For what?" I asked, horrified.

          "For murder," said Letherby.

          "For murder?"

          "Yes," repeated Letherby, shaking his head,
          "Poor fellow, murder . . some sudden, strange
          impulse that seized him... I shouldn't say jail.
          He was in the Criminal Lunatic Asylum. Your
          Move. "

          "Criminal Asylum!" I said. "What did he
          do?"

          "Killed a man; in a sudden rage. . .struck him
          over the head with a poker."

          "Good Lord!" I exclaimed. "When was
          that? In this city?"

          "Here at the club," said Letherby, "in this
          room."

          "What?" I gasped. "He killed one of the
          members?"

          "Oh, no!" Letherby said reassuringly. "Not
          a member. The man was a guest. Fred didn't
          know him. . just an insane impulse... As soon
          as they let him out, the faithful fellow came
          right back here. That was last year. Your
          move. "

          . . .

          "Joel Linton." I said, "Why he's arrested."

          "Not yet... they 're looking for him. You're in check."

          "That's Joel Linton now," said Letherby,
          and in he came through the swing doors, a
          hard-looking man, but mightily deter-
          mined... He hung his overcoat on a peg, and
          as he did so, I was sure I saw something
          bulging in his coat pocket — eh? He nodded
          casually about the room. And then started
          moving among the tables, edging his way
          toward ours.

          "I guess, if you don't mind," i began... But
          that is as far as 1 got. That was when the po-
          lice came in, two constables and an inspector.

          I saw Linton dive his hand towards his
          pocket.

          "Stand where you are, Linton," the in-
          spector called. . .Then right at that moment
          I saw the waiter, Fred, seize the hand-grip
          of the poker, . .

          "Don't move, Linton," called the in-
          spector; he never saw Fred moving to-
          ward him. - .

          Linton didn't move. But I did. 1 made
          a quick back bolt for the little door behind
          me... down the little stairway. . .and down
          the other little staircase, and along the
          corridor and back into the brightly lighted
          hotel rotunda, just the same as when I left
          it — noise and light and bellboys, and girls
          at the newsstand selling tobacco and
          evening papers. . .just the same, but oh,
          how different! For peace of mind, for the
          joy of life — give me a rotunda, and make
          it as noisy as ever you like.

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          • #6
            Re: Eerie chess photo

            And here's a book full of chess murders and mysteries, 'Sinister Gambits' (:

            http://www.amazon.ca/Sinister-Gambit.../dp/0285630520

            If anyone hasn't read Stefan Zweig's classic, 'Royal Game', the $3.05 price tag for the used paperback edition of 'Sinister Gambits' is money well spent (:

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