This story started here. “The key, from the dead man’s pocket, fits the lock of the Devane house.” “Tell me,” my employer purred, leaning forward. We were having our morning coffee on the deck. “I obtained this information,” I … Continue reading
This story started here. At the end of the following day, sitting in our room (it was drizzling outside), my employer and I compared notes. We had spent the day apart — she investigating the Devane family, me in … Continue reading
This story started here. After we were seated, we started with drinks (at least Professor Lebrun and I did — my employer seldom drank). When the drinks arrived, the professor sipped his Tom Collins, nodded, took another sip, and … Continue reading
This story started here. In the living room of the large, dark house, three people seemed to be standing as far away from each other as they could. On the window end of the room, where I could see … Continue reading
This story started here. Leaving the hospital, I decided to walk along the side of the highway to Sunshine Housewares. It was about a quarter of a mile, taking me back toward the town center. Walking would save me … Continue reading
This story started here. “You’ve been doing me a disservice, you know.” “Excuse me?” Had I woken up because she’d spoken, or for some other reason? It was still dark outside, so it was not time to get up. … Continue reading