“I asked. “No,” the chief said, with a sigh. “But I suppose it’s rude to tell a distinguished foreign visitor point-blank that he’s a bald-faced liar.” “Of course, it’s always possible that he poisoned her and decided to confess to the bludgeoning to throw you off the track,” I suggested. “Always possible,” the chief agreed. “But I think if he did poison her, he’d react a little more when asked about the pills. Let’s hope he’s content with having made his confession and doesn’t keeping popping b...ack in here every five minutes demanding to be arrested.” “Placate him,” I said. “Send Horace to confiscate his clothes for testing or something dramatic like that.” “It’s an idea,” the chief said. “I just wish I knew what those blasted pills are.” “You could call his doctor,” I said. “I did,” he said. “Actually, I had Debbie Anne do the actual calling, since her Spanish is better than mine. But Barcelona’s six hours ahead of us, so the doctor’s office hours were over by the time we got his contact information.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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