By Carter Dickson
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Extra resources for Peacock Feather Murders (Library of Crime Classics)
Sample text
Leaned forward. "Take it easy, Jem. I'm goin' to ask you just one last question. -Wait, now, dammit! Stop a bit before you answer. I'm not suggestin' an assignation of the kind you mean. I don't think there was any such thing. People makin' an assignation don't usually choose tea-time in a dusty attic hole where the temperature is 105. It looks to me like a rite of some kind, though I dunno what. But if there were some mysterious crystal-gazin' or secret-society hocus-pocus concerned with the teacups, would she have been intrigued by it and apt to go?
Ron Gardner! Besides, I saw Keating himself on Tuesday morning. I had business in Westminster; and, since there were-certain business matters to discuss with Keating himself, I called on him at his flat. He certainly said nothing of any trouble. M. with laboring care, "he still expected to come to your party, Hey? And so something between Tuesday morning and Tuesday afternoon, when he told Frances Gale he couldn't go, made him change his mind. Oh, my eye. " He brooded for a moment. "Let's get back to what Masters thinks is the blazin' query of the case.
Vance had a devil of a temper when he got started; he called it artistic temperament, or some such rubbish. And I'll tell you a little secret. Vance was a good man, and in most things he'd got twice as much guts as anyone else; but secretly-right down in his heart-he was afraid of firearms. I don't know why. He'd have died rather than admit it, and ever since we were kids he's been trying to conquer it. He may have lost his head in the excitement, having the gun.... " "It don't look like a small thing to me, son.