“What
do you want now? I don’t know any
bombers or anarchists. My ignorance of
such things is precious to me, and I intend to keep it until I die peacefully
of old age, sitting in the sun on some park bench. I can’t help you – but I suppose I can try,
if you insist.”
“Lieutenant Edwin Lovat,” Pitt replied.
He liked McDade and he had nothing pleasanter or more useful to do than
extract information from him a piece at a time.
“Dead,” McDade said simply. “Shot
through the chest – heart, actually.
Small handgun, close range. Very
neat.”
“Great skill required?” Pitt asked.
“Only for a blind man with a moving target.”
(from Seven Dials by Anne Perry)
.
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