Murder in the Winter Read Online Free PDF Page A

to follow? I quickly dismissed that theory. Surely our work
would be more difficult than that. And so it was.
    I wanted to check out the inn. Actually, I wanted to
check out of the inn, but that was not possible with a murderer lurking nearby.
On one occasion, I slid the latch from my door and peeked out to see if
you-know-who was around. I suffered a kiss on the cheek while claws messed up
my hair. I hit my eye on the door as I tried to get away from her clutches. If
someone were to look out again, it would be the good sergeant. I looked around
the room for other means of escape. There were none. We would remain in my room
until I heard screams, or until the smell of food cooking wafted in under the
door.
    After too much time in isolation, we weren’t able to
solve a yet uncommitted murder, so my thoughts shifted to planning my exit. I’d
read about Noah. I knew about the raven and the dove. After a reasonable amount
of time elapsed, I would send the good sergeant out. If he didn’t return within
a few seconds, I would know that either the neighbor had captured him or he had
smelled food.
     
    +++
     
    I expected things to get worse when we left the room,
but not in the way they did. We strolled down the steps, slinked over to the
hors d’oeuvres, and crinkled our noses. What is this stuff? I whispered
to Lou to see if he had a clue. He had no idea, either. The other guests had
come out of hiding. At least two men had. I whispered again to Lou and we
stepped back and waited for someone else to go first. One did, and he seemed to
enjoy it. Then an elderly woman hobbled over, ate some of the pasty stuff, and
licked her lips. I motioned to the sergeant to go first. He whispered, “Lieutenants
first.” I whispered back, “Not after you sent that woman to my room.” He
smiled and sidled up to the table to choose his poison. He took a knife and
spread a small portion of the pasty stuff on a cracker, took a bite, and
smiled. Knowing Lou could be a good actor at times, I followed, begrudgingly.
Lou looked at me and did his best not to laugh.  I was about to whisper and ask
him, “What is this stuff?” when Mrs. Longworth walked up and asked us how we
liked the pâté de foie gras. I tried to smile, and took another bite. It tasted
like dog food that had been run through a blender. On second thought, it tasted
like liver, and I can’t stand liver. I hoped the hors d’oeuvres were not a
precursor of what dinner would be like. I turned away from the paste and walked
over to the sitting room. On the way I passed Mrs. Longworth and said something
about not wanting to spoil my appetite for dinner. When she was out of sight, I
sneaked my Hershey Almond bar from my pocket and bit off two almonds and all
the chocolate that surrounded them. I wouldn’t go near that foie gras again,
unless it would be to recommend it to my neighbor, who was descending the
stairs as I looked up. She was dressed for dinner. Too bad she had not chosen a
hat with a veil to accompany her outfit.
     
    +++
     
    At dinner, Lou and I got to meet everyone. Well, we
got their names and faces, but didn’t waste much time talking. Instead, I
listened, plus checked out the eyes to see if anyone recognized us. No one
seemed to. Maybe they were all good actors. And there wasn’t a hunchback among
them. After dinner, I would ask the good sergeant to corner my next-door
neighbor and see if she recognized any of our dinner companions as the
hunchback who’d left me the note. I doubted if she could. Whoever it was had
bundled up, and all of the guests seemed about the same height and weight. Even
the woman was near the same size as the men, but then my neighbor would never
recognize another woman.
    I was right about one thing. There weren’t a lot of
guests, and from what I could discern, not only were the good sergeant and I
the first to arrive on Friday, but, other than my neighbor, we were the only
ones to arrive on Friday. Three other guests were expected,