Death at the Playhouses

Well, not friends really, more acquaintances who frequented the same pubs and knew the same people.” Which sounded very like a definition of friendship to Edward, but he realised it wouldn’t do to say so, and so he remained silent as John rabbited on. “It was a long time ago. Why, he wondered plaintively, did he suddenly feel like a suspect? He could see a wooden coffin inside the lead car, and felt his stomach turn over, exactly as it had done when he and Edward had found Judy’s body. Finally, there was Buchanan, who was blackmailing them into smuggling priceless works of art into Britain.