A Blunt Instrument

by Georgette Heyer

"I'm terribly sorry," sighed Helen, "but even though you didn't get my notes back, and we did land ourselves in a mess, my bringing you into it did lead to good. If I hadn't, John and I might never have come together again."

Neville closed his eyes, an expression on his face of acute anguish. "What a thought! How beautifully put! I shall not have died in vain. Ought I to be glad?"

"Look here!" Sally interposed. "It's no use regretting what you've done. You've got to think about what you're going to do next. It's obvious that the police suspect you pretty hotly. On the other hand, it's equally obvious that they haven't got enough evidence against you to allow of their applying for a warrant for your arrest. The question is: Can they collect the evidence?"

Neville opened his eyes, and looked at her in undisguised horror. "Oh, my God, the girl thinks I did it!"

"No, I don't. I've got an open mind on the subject," said Sally bluntly. "If you did it, you must have had a darned good reason, and you have my vote."

"Have I?" Neville said, awed. "And what about my second victim?"

"As I see it," replied Sally, "the second victim -- we won't call him yours just yet -- knew too much about the first murder, and had to be disposed of. Unfortunate, of course, but, given the first murder, I quite see it was inevitable."

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