Murder in Wonderland Read Online Free PDF

the majority of answers were overwhelmingly in favor of Mr. Rogers. People can't bear the thought of wearing Hitler's sweater, as if his essence or bits of his soul are stuck in the fibers. But it's just fibers. It's dead, lifeless, soulless wool. It doesn't matter who wore it, it's still a sweater."
                  Del nodded. "Keep going, I think I'm actually almost understanding you."
                  "It's my house. Tom and I shared it for all those years. Everywhere I turn there are a thousand wonderful memories. Yes, there are some bad ones too, but those are weak and blurry. And this one will weaken as well. I don't mean to sound cold. That's just the truth of it. It doesn't matter what happened there. It’s all in the mind and the soul of the person who lives there. Understand?"
                  "Do you get this smart from all those books you read, or is there some pill you take?"
                  "It's actually a pill," said Allie, pausing to check her teeth in a compact mirror. "Which reminds me, I have to renew the script."
                  Del put down her sandwich and frowned at its half-finished remains. "I can't stop thinking about it. The way she got up, then fell over. The sound of the coffee table...her convulsing like that..." She shook her head and took a sip of her lemonade.
                  "It's ok," said Allie. "I keep turning it over in my head too. And this is going to sound strange, and maybe a bit cold, but I'm telling you, this is helping me. Playing it over from different angles and seeing it as one big puzzle. It's been helping me cope with the horror of it. I'm sorry, is that terrible?"
                  "No, not terrible. You're a deep thinker. You always have been. That's why I always keep you around. I hate thinking."
                  "No, but seriously. It is a puzzle, is it not? A woman died in front of us. No apparent reason. I mean, she seemed fine when she came in. Didn't she seem fine?"
                  "As fine as old wine."
                  "I mean, nothing. Not one thing wrong with her. Right? No indication of anything wrong with her. She was at the gym all the time. Health nut. Weight Watchers for that skinny little body of hers. Fine foods. Isn’t it odd?"
                  "So...what are you saying?"
                  "All I'm saying is it's strange. And it's not like she was exactly the most well-liked individual. You could point to anyone in that room and pin a motive for murder on any one of them."
                  Del touched her arm. "Ok. My darling, you've had too much brie. No one in that room is a murderer."
                  "You were there, but you didn't observe. As the hostess, I was hypersensitive to everything happening in that house that morning. There was this hostility in the air just before Tori arrived. All of you were contributing, generating it like electricity. It was a little scary. To be honest with you, I'm not surprised that girl was murdered."
                  Del put her hands up. "Ok, hold it. Aren't you sort of jumping the gun a bit here?" She looked around, and her voice lowered to a near-whisper. "You're really talking about murder?"
                  Allie leaned in and mimicked her tone. "Yes, I'm really talking about murder."
                  "What do you know that I don't? That the cops don't?"
                  Allie smiled, but inside she was as solemn as a morgue. "I know my book club guests."

8
     
                  When Allie finally re-entered her home, she felt as if it didn’t recognize her. Something had washed it down, cleansed it of its ability to know its own. She felt it reject her, sniff her warily and skulk away.
                  Inside the living room, where it had all taken place, was a post-mortem snapshot frozen