“Damn,” Munch said. “My condolences. The vic is a Deborah Grabien, mystery writer and member in good standing. Kind of a firebrand too...this could have been a Company job, if you ask me.”
“You’ll notice I didn’t, huh? Right. The CIA takes out mystery writers at freak conventions in Balmer.”
“Well, it wasn’t Miss Scarlet in the conservatory, babe. In the interests of national security, people have ‘accidents’ sometimes.”
Kay waved the suggestion away. “Who’s she here with?”
“She has a husband. “
“Now he’s somebody I want to have a little chat with.”
“I’m sorry,” Betsy said, from the hallway, “but the door was open, so I couldn’t let that pass. The sentence you want is “He is someone with whom I want to have a little chat.” Because otherwise you end your sentence with a preposition. And that’s just wrong.”
“So that’s what ‘whom’ is for. Thanks. You don’t have confessions in there do you?”
“Afraid not.”
“Look,” Munch said. “I’ll talk to the husband, because I can tell he is someone with whom you’d like to exchange stray bullets.”
This might just be more entertaining than actually being at the F2F. Thanks, erika.
Aw, shucks. Just trying to deal with my loss and maybe carve out a place in Buffista History.
maybe carve out a place in Buffista History.
You have already achieved that.
A little bit from Frankentim.
Meanwhile, on the road someplace in Charm City:
”Don’t you think it’s sad, Frank?” Tim Bayliss asked, getting that pensive look his partner loathed.
”Death is always sad, Tim. Hence the lack of party favors as funerals.” Pembleton said, his gaze laserlike on the road in front of him.
But it didn’t help. “No, no, more than that. She’s bright...went to school in England or something. Survived things that would make most people head for the hills...and yet...”
“What’s your point, Bayliss?”
“What was she doing talking to people from a box in her office?”
“But she wasn’t. She’d met most of these people. Sent them cake.”
“Why was she sending cake to strangers, Frank? That doesn’t seem sad to you?”
“Not really, Tim. People like cake. And you’re the one who’s bitching that we don’t break bread together.It’d be worth a pastry or two to get that to stop.”
“I still think that kind of isolation contributed to her death.”
“Let me get this straight. Out of all the motives in the world, you’re going with ‘quiet desperation’...It doesn’t wash.”
People like cake.
Bwah! So true, especially Deb's cake.
Wrod. And Pembleton always thinks he has to bring Bayliss down to earth.(He probably does.)
Tim sounds frighteningly like my father in that last bit. I'm not sure I like that... very true to life, though.
That is a little frightening, Deena. I promise I don't think dirty stuff about your dad, though.
