By Josephine Tey
A woman's physique is located at the English seacoast, and twisted in her hair is an editorial screaming homicide. For Inspector Alan furnish, the case turns into a nightmare, as too many clues and too many factors come up.
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Extra info for A Shilling for Candles
Christine Clay was drowned! "—a bright young man at a Bloomsbury party. " All over the world things happened because one woman had lost her life. In California a man telephoned a summons to a girl in Greenwich Village. A Texas airplane pilot did an extra night flight carrying Clay films for rush showing. A New York firm canceled an order. An Italian nobleman went bankrupt: he had hoped to sell her his yacht. A man in Philadelphia ate his first square meal in months, thanks to an "I knew her when" story.
Hopkins had an excellent nose for jam, and so it was that he stopped suddenly in the middle of analyzing for Bartholomew's benefit the various sensation seekers crowding the little Kentish village hall. Stopped dead and stared. Because, between the flyaway hats of two bright sensationalists, he could see a man's calm face which was much more sensational than anything in that building. " Bart asked. " Hopkins slid from the end of the form, just as the coroner sat down and tapped for silence. "Keep my place," he whispered, and disappeared out of the building.
Have a little more of Father's brandy. It's a much better end for it than Father's arteries. I'm going now. " This to Grant. " "Grant. " He gave her a little bow. " She considered him. " "You're much more my type. I like people broad across the cheekbones. Good-bye, Mr. " Tisdall asked, in the indifferent tones of the newly conscious. " "Yes. " "Oh, no. " "Oh? " "It would settle my immediate future. " "I see the point. " "What about that architect's office? " "I'm never going back to an office.