Murder Comes First Read Online Free PDF

said in a much smaller one.
    â€œThe Norths! ” O’Malley told him. “Don’t you see them?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Bill Weigand said. “Hello, Pam. Jerry. What in the name of—”
    â€œIf you—” Inspector O’Malley said, riding over everyone and now dangerously florid.
    â€œNo sir,” Bill Weigand said. “Surprise to me, Inspector.”
    â€œMy aunt,” Pam said. “She’s my aunt.”
    Both Inspector O’Malley and Lieutenant Weigand looked down at her. So did Jerry North. Jerry ran the fingers of his right hand through his hair.
    â€œYou mean to stand there and tell me—” O’Malley began, and stopped, too full of words for utterance.
    â€œI’m so sorry, Inspector,” Pam North said. “I’m afraid so. Aunts, really. I—you see it was really Aunt Lucinda who telephoned and we both thought it was probably east until …” She paused for a moment. “It’s so hard to tell with Aunt Lucinda,” she said, and smiled up at the inspector.
    â€œStop!” Inspector O’Malley told her. “I—” Again he did not finish. “Weigand.”
    Bill said, “Yes, Inspector?”
    â€œI won’t have it,” O’Malley said. “I’ve told you a hundred times. You know what happens when you let them in. You know , don’t you?”
    Bill Weigand nodded and looked attentive.
    â€œGets all screwy,” O’Malley said. “Doesn’t make any sense. Gets so you can’t understand the damn thing. I’ve told you.”
    â€œRight,” Bill said.
    â€œYou know what to do?” O’Malley demanded.
    â€œRight,” Bill said.’
    â€œDo it!” Inspector O’Malley commanded. He moved forward, blindly. Pam and Jerry drew aside. Inspector O’Malley steamed up the stairs to the sidewalk. He stopped. “The Norths!” he said. “Good God.” He went, blindly, toward his car.
    â€œHe certainly doesn’t like us in things,” Pam North said. “But we can’t just leave Aunt Thelma.”
    â€œLook,” Bill said. “It’s Thelma Whitsett who’s your aunt? And the other two?”
    â€œOf course, Bill,” Pamela North said.
    â€œNot Grace Logan?”
    â€œHeavens no.”
    Bill Weigand took a rather obviously deep breath.
    â€œPam,” he said. “You realize the inspector thought you meant Mrs. Logan was your aunt? That otherwise, Aunt Thelma or no Aunt Thelma, he’d have had you thrown out?”
    â€œBill,” Pam said, “I was perfectly clear. I don’t—I didn’t even know Mrs. Logan. But I’ve got to help the aunts.”
    â€œI—” Bill began, and then, suddenly, he smiled. “Poor Arty,” he said. “One of these days—” He did not say what one of these days was to bring forth. He said, “As a matter of fact, we’d have wanted you in the end, since the aunts are yours.” He opened the door of the house and let the Norths in ahead of him. In the living room a flight above, in the room in which Grace Logan had died with such sudden violence, but where her body no longer was, he amplified. He spoke quickly, succinctly.
    Miss Thelma Whitsett was, in a room on the floor above, being interrogated by an assistant district attorney. The other aunts were waiting their turn. But it was Aunt Thelma in whom the assistant district attorney was most interested, and in whom Deputy Chief Inspector Artemus O’Malley was most interested.
    â€œBut why?” Pam said. “Why, Bill?”
    He told her. Grace Logan had died as suddenly as anyone dies after ingesting five grains or so of potassium cyanide, which turns to hydrocyanic acid in the stomach; which smells then of the insides of peach pits; which causes death by a kind of asphyxia and causes it within minutes. A capsule containing potassium cyanide had been