The corners of her mouth turned up in a wry smile. “Better and better. Your grandmother’s looks and your grandfather’s brains. A deadly combination, I must say.
She leaned back, closing her eyes and blowing out a thin wisp of smoke. “He was always a good-looking man. Your eyes are from him, the same blue, but you are slimmer of build and have your grandmother’s exotic face rather than his rounder, friend...
Incredible,” said Constable Dawes. “Impossible,” said Sergeant Michaels. “Elementary,” said my professor with a grin.
I decided the least I could do was to sit with Mrs. Anderson. Heading to the dining car, I ordered my third pot of tea (my first three-pot problem — Mr. Holmes would be so proud) to be delivered to her compartment rather than mine.
I shook hands with the attorney, advising him to forgive the cat he had banished from his offices since a child had been the downfall of the bird, not a feline at all. The scratches on the birdcage were months old, while the small, sticky chocolate f...
