“I said, for though I knew the Sherlock-Watson simile wasn’t as pertinent as I should have liked, it still had a nice ring to it. “So Bluebell isn’t a girl, then, is she?” said Stevie, who came tripping in my wake. “At this point in our investigation, Bluebell could be anything,” I said, as we traversed the presbytery corridor. We had arrived at a sturdy oak door barring entrance into Sam’s inner sanctum: his study. It was here that the great man wrote his sermons, pieces of eloquent pro...se that inspired the Brookridge masses week on week, or so they tell me. I must admit never having been present during Mass, cats not being allowed in Church as a rule. Not that I mind. Though Jesus was a fisherman, I have it from authoritative sources no actual fish is ever served there. “Now what?” I said, as I gently pawed the closed door. One of the disadvantages of being a cat is that we have a hard time handling doors.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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