There was no mess: just a dark stain one could see on the waistcoat.
Which one takes the trouble to impersonate a well-known author and lure George Posfort of that calling to his violent end in an unlikely London hotel? And why, about the same time, should Richard Alton, a nice young sch.
There can be few people who would wish to go so far as to murder a literary agent.
But even then I thought I knew him.
What was horrible was the contortion of the face and the tortured eyes.
There was no mess: just a dark stain one could see on the waistcoat