By George Harmon Coxe
Flash Casey snaps a photograph that holds the most important to a corrupt lawyer’s murder
Casey shouldn’t have needed to return for extra photographs of Stanford Endicott. He used to be on the court docket with the opposite newspaper photographers while the rich legal professional used to be arraigned, and acquired images of him smiling as he wear a hat to conceal his bald head. yet ahead of Casey can get the negatives built, a couple of urchins thieve his digital camera case and reveal the plates to the solar. At his editor’s orders, Casey visits Endicott’s workplace for one more around of pictures. the image he is taking there's altogether extra attention-grabbing: Stanford Endicott, lifeless on his place of work ground. Casey hears a legitimate within the subsequent room and is aware the assassin is shut. He supplies chase out front door, and takes an image simply because the killer drives away. without notice, Flash Casey has an even bigger tale than he bargained for.
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Additional resources for Silent Are the Dead (Flash Casey Mystery, Book 1)
He pointed past the edge of the umbrella at the eaves of the mansion. If the wind comes too fast from the south, it whistles in the eaves. It can keep you awake nights. The explanation should have quieted her nerves, but it did not. That cry seemed too filled with emotion to be made by something inanimate. Suddenly, she remembered things that she should have asked Richard. Why had he been late? Why did Catherine, the waitress, fear him so? What was this curse that Aunt Cora talked about and which he called a psychiatric problem"?
He was watching her over the rim of his cup as he sipped his coffee. Unexplainably, she remembered that he had opened her suitcases upon placing them in her room. She had still not been able to decide whether or not he had been snooping, whether such a gesture was only meant as a final courtesy. But this very direct gaze of his seemed to pry at her own eyes, to peel back her brain and seek for secrets. She didn't like that at all. �My room is wonderful, she said. I'm anxious to explore the grounds and do some riding.
Later that night, Cora came to Jenny's room. She was dressed in a lovely yellow lounging robe which contrasted with her dark beauty and her cultured dignity to make both those qualities even more evident. Jenny secretly hoped that, when she was Cora's age, she would look as feminine and sophisticated as her aunt. If I reach her age, she amended. And immediately, she wondered why she always had to have such negative thoughts. �I'd like to talk to you about Freya, Cora Brucker said. She sat on the edge of the bed.