By Fredric Brown
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Extra resources for A Plot for Murder (a.k.a. Murder Can Be Fun)
I don't think the medical examination will put the murder before two—and probably quite a bit later. ” “Not so hot. ” There was sudden triumph in Sergeant Corey's broad face, looking now over Bates' shoulder. ” Then deflation set in as he obviously remembered that the story and the time had been in every newspaper. Bates looked over his shoulder, then turned back and winked at Tracy. Or Tracy thought it was a wink; he couldn't be sure. Bates said, “You win, Tracy. This interview is going to take sitting down.
He thought, what the hell's wrong with me; cold sober and yet on the verge of crying into my beer because it wouldn't matter to anyone whether I get drunk or stay sober. But unless he found someone to talk to— He pulled his notebook out of his pocket and started to leaf through it to see if any names suggested themselves. It was a random sort of notebook. Harry Burke; no, Harry was out of town. Helen Armstrong; what had ever possessed him to write down her phone number? Thelma; who the devil was Thelma?
But a kiss on the soft nape of her neck—maybe he could get away with that. Nothing like finding out, anyway. And nothing like establishing their friendship on a firm non-Platonic basis at the first reasonable opportunity. Yes, he'd chance it. Right there where the soft little golden tendrils of hair started to sweep upward. Dotty didn't duck, nor did she turn around. She said, “What do you think we should do with this line, where Millie says to her mother, 'There goes Dale,' and then yells out the window for Dale to come in.