Puzzles of the Black Widowers (The Black Widowers, Book 5)
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Once a month, the seven members of the Black Widowers Club gather for dinner at their favourite restaurant. To each dinner a guest is invited, and each guest has a problem too large and complex to solve on his own. This is the fifth collection of the "Black Widowers" stories.
evening in the living room of the place, with about a dozen others who were likewise not caught up in the stampede to see a third-rate play just because, like Mount Everest, it was there. Besides me, there was a man, his wife, and their son, who figured in what was about to happen. The man was a rather stiff, unsociable fellow, his wife was passive and quiet, and his son was about twelve years old, well-behaved, and clearly very bright. Their name was Winters. "Then there was a woman who my wife
ready. "The loss was noticed and Winters' eye fell on her purse. She at once volunteered to empty it, and pulled every zipper, counting ostentatiously from one to seven as she did so. When she was done, the six compartments which had been closed were open, and the one compartment, with the object and nothing else inside, which had been open, was closed. "She then upended the purse and out of it dropped every last thing it contained but the object. And because she had worked very hard to seem
of any accident, we can only assume that in the morning he had gotten ready to do his work, had crossed the street to the office building as he had been instructed to do, and, going to the proper place, had set up his television equipment." "No," said Avalon. "The receptionist swears he never came in and Mr. Hume has told us the receptionist didn't lie. That means — Mr. Hume, please forgive me the question I am forced to ask. It is merely a matter of the search for a solution? When you told us
includes our excellent waiter, Henry. Does that help?" "No, it doesn't," said Mountjoy. "I have no secrets, but the government does. I am fully satisfied of the honor and honesty of every person here, but the government is not satisfied as easily as I am." "You said you don't work for the government," said Gonzalo. "Nor do I, but I have managed to get entangled with it just the same, and through no deliberate desire of my own." Thomas Trumbull said gently, "I am employed by the government and
our two apartments on the eighth floor, he tore open an envelope he was carrying, which I assumed he had just picked up from his letter box. I had checked mine earlier and it was empty, as it almost always was in those days, except when my mother wrote me. I watched my neighbor out of the corner of my eye, partly because I would naturally watch someone I was fantasizing to be a mysterious villain, partly because I envied anyone who got a letter, and even partly because I never quite got over my