Brenda Joyce - [Francesca Cahil 03] - Plot & Excerpts
Peter answered the door—with Dot. Francesca could hardly concentrate on the child, who shrieked with pleasure upon seeing her. “Frack, Frack, Frack!” she cried. Somehow, she lifted the two-year-old into her arms, and of course instantly Dot began to struggle to get down. ll“Where is he?” Francesca asked breathlessly. She had phoned police headquarters and had been told that Bragg was on his way home; upon telephoning his house, she found the line busy. Jennings had driven to Madison Square at a breakneck speed. Francesca thought they had managed the trip in ten or twelve minutes; fortunately, this hour on a Sunday did not have a lot of street traffic. “He is in the study,” Peter said. Francesca shoved Dot into his arms and ran down the hall. She did not knock. He started when she raced into the small room, where a fire glowed in the hearth. Bragg was standing at his desk. “Francesca?” She handed him the poem. He looked at the page and paled. “Where did you find this?”
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