Its Victorian shoddiness was seeping into her, debasing her scale of values. In time she would lose the power to perceive its ugliness. She would drift away from her friends—her career would slip away from her. She no more believed all this than she believed that the ghost...
It was a piece of boyish foolery with some jewellery—in no way connected with the Cosy Nook murder—which turned his attention to Surbrook. He had spent an unprofitable morning in Hatton Garden, trying to identify some stolen jewellery, which included a star pendant in diam...
“Sorry, sir! I’ve been chasing Fenchurch’s girl and tumbled on something else. She’s bolted, by the way.” “Let’s have the ‘appreciation’ first,” said Crisp, as they got into his car. “Appreciation!” echoed Benscombe. “Fenchurch didn’t know Glenda wa...