“I hadn't been close to Mrs. Redstone, I had hardly known her, but she had been, I thought, a rare kind of woman. Strong, firm, pleasant. Intelligent and graceful. And, hell, I'd enjoyed her. I'd liked her. Not to mention the fact that she'd hired me to do a job for her. While I'd been jumping around at Fairview she must have been lying here dead. Well, I'd finish the case for her, finish it for sure. And a hell of a lot of good that would do her now. I went to her finally, touched her skin, loo...ked at her dead eyes. Rigor mortis was just starting; it had affected the head and neck, but hadn't spread farther. She'd been dead for hours. On the floor at her feet, as if it might have fallen from her hand to her lap and then to the carpet, was a small, gleaming .32 Smith and Wesson revolver. Resting on a table to her left was a newspaper, still folded in the middle, the headlines spattered with brown stains and darker blobs. The headlines were a surprise, and for a moment they didn't make much sense.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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