By Fredric Brown
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Unsolved crimes have a different fascination, none extra so than unsolved murders. The surprise of the crime itself and the secret surrounding it, the phobia generated by means of the attention a killer at the unfastened, the perception the instances provide into outmoded police equipment, and the opportunity to take a position concerning the identification of the killer after such a lot of years have handed - most of these elements of unsolved homicide instances cause them to compelling analyzing.
It's no usual Christmas at Lexham Manor. Six vacation site visitors locate themselves the suspects of a homicide enquiry whilst the outdated Scrooge, Nathaniel Herriad, who owns the mammoth property, is located stabbed within the again. For Inspector Hemingway of Scotland backyard, ‘tis the season to discover whodunit yet it’s a true conundrum how any of the suspects may have entered the locked room to dedicate this foul deed within the first position.
Additional info for A Plot for Murder (a.k.a. Murder Can Be Fun)
When he finished, he nodded. “It's fine,” he said. “Did Dotty—ah—make any suggestions? ” “Yes,” Tracy told him. “She made several, and they were all good. Maybe she really can write. ” “No, but Mr. Dineen told me that she has sold a few short stories—I believe he said it was to the love pulp magazines. So she must have some ability. It will be mostly a matter, for her, of learning radio technique. ” “I'll do my best,” Tracy told him. He turned to go. “Ah—just a moment, Mr. Tracy. ” “I'll do my best.
Okay,” Tracy said. “Well, I got home about one-thirty. The door was still locked. I went to bed and slept till nearly noon, and then I went out. I bought a paper but I didn't read it until I was back here, around half past four. That was the first I knew Dineen had been murdered, and it knocked me for a loop. “I liked Dineen all right, but that wasn't why, of course. We were just business acquaintances. ” “I don't know. It worried me. It was pretty hard to believe, but then again it was even harder to believe that it wasn't, if you see what I mean.
And the guys were human. This guy was human; big ears, big shoulders and all, he was a human being. “Stan,” he said, “I was kidding you, acting that way. I'm not drunk. I'm damn cold sober. The couple I had just now were my first today. ” Tracy shook his head. ” “Sure it could be a coincidence. Hell, if you didn't even know the guy—” “I know the guy,” Tracy said. “The one who was killed, I mean. He was my boss. ” “You're kidding,” the bartender said. He put his hands flat on the bar. They were big hands.
A Plot for Murder (a.k.a. Murder Can Be Fun) by Fredric Brown