“Before half past nine he was kneeling on the still icebound earth by the body. A solitary constable stood guard over it. Nothing had been moved. After some protest, Charlotte had been sent home, although Pitt thought it was probably the cold that prevailed over her rather than any sense of obedience. There was a police doctor with him. After he had stared his fill and the picture was etched on his mind, together they turned Freddie over to look at the wound. The knife was buried right to the hi...lt, the filigree handle holding no imprint of a hand at all. Pitt moved the clothes fractionally. “Single blow,” he remarked. “Very clean.” “Could be luck,” the doctor said over his shoulder. “Doesn’t have to be skill.” “What about strength?” Pitt asked. “Strength?” The doctor considered for a moment. He reached down and moved the knife experimentally. “No bones cut,” he observed. “Clean between the ribs. Nothing but cartilage, and a little muscle; straight to the heart.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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