“We want all the information we can get before we interview anyone.’ Old W.T. sat back in a chair on the balcony outside his bedroom window in the hotel, and puffed his cigarette thoughtfully as he spoke. They had been in Mentone two days now, without making much progress. It was a typical southern night, the air warm, and noisy with the far-off buzz of the town. The sky was fretted with stars, and not a breath of wind stirred the scalloped frills of the striped awnings over the café windows. Th...e old man’s voice sounded soft and deep in the semi-darkness. Jerry stirred. ‘Well, we know where they are,’ he remarked. W.T. nodded. ‘That’s something done, anyway,’ he said. ‘But now we must wait for the record. That phrase “who ought to have it” worries me.’ ‘Clarry Gale, too,’ said Jerry slowly. ‘He seems to have come into money. One curious thing about Crowther’s murder is the sudden wealth of the folk who were associated with him.’ ‘I thought that.’ W.T.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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