Catch a Falling Clown: a Toby Peters Mystery (Book Seven)
“I said. “I saw a picture of the real Hitchcock in a movie magazine in a railroad station yesterday. Anyone could have spotted you at any time.”
The man I had known as Alfred Hitchcock hunched his shoulders up. “It was a risk worth taking,” he said. “If worse came to worse, and it has, it really has, I planned to confess that I was a circus buff and that I merely used Hitchcock’s name because of my resemblance to him to gain access to the grounds.”
An argument had started at the end of the bar. ...Lope and Carlos were part of it. Some of it was in Spanish. I had the feeling it was a debate over who was going to listen to the radio and who was going to listen to Jean Alvero.
“There isn’t any witness,” I said, turning away from the killer. “That was just to bring you out in the open.”
“I thought it might be,” he sighed, “but I couldn’t take a chance. Besides, all is not lost. You are responsible for my brother’s death. I’m the last of the family.”
“And he went like the others,”MoreLess
The man I had known as Alfred Hitchcock hunched his shoulders up. “It was a risk worth taking,” he said. “If worse came to worse, and it has, it really has, I planned to confess that I was a circus buff and that I merely used Hitchcock’s name because of my resemblance to him to gain access to the grounds.”
An argument had started at the end of the bar. ...Lope and Carlos were part of it. Some of it was in Spanish. I had the feeling it was a debate over who was going to listen to the radio and who was going to listen to Jean Alvero.
“There isn’t any witness,” I said, turning away from the killer. “That was just to bring you out in the open.”
“I thought it might be,” he sighed, “but I couldn’t take a chance. Besides, all is not lost. You are responsible for my brother’s death. I’m the last of the family.”
“And he went like the others,”MoreLess
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