The piper on the mountain
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When Herbert Terrell falls off a mountain during a vacation in Czechoslovakia, accidental death is the verdict. Then his step-daughter Tossa receives a note suggesting Terrell was murdered--turning Tossa's long-planned European holiday with college friends into a hunt for the killer.
charming smile that transformed his professionally austere face into something human and likeable. “Proceed with our blessing, of course, but with our warnings, too. One man, according to your theory, has already been killed. I beg you to take care of yourself. That’s the first essential. The second is the preservation of complete secrecy for this establishment. That I can’t over-stress. And the third thing is something I feel I ought to tell you. If you’re going into this at all, you must go
and up went the pole. Gravely they acknowledged the salutes that ushered them through into a new country, and wormed their way through the congestion of cars and under the quivering pole. “We’re in!” breathed Christine, staggered to find it so easy. “No iron curtain, no nothing,” agreed Toddy, astonished in his turn. “A bit like crashing the sound barrier, though.” The van climbed out of the frontier hollow, between slopes of silver birches, under the distant shadow of the first of many
signalled, from ingenuous blue eyes and beaming mouth, his pleasure in having hooked so interesting, so rewarding a ride. The GB plate, the number, the girls, one glance and he had them all weighed up. Dominic wound the window right down, and said: “Hallo!” As an obvious greeting he didn’t see why it shouldn’t do just as well as any other; but in spite of Tossa’s predictions he was hardly prepared to be addressed promptly and fluently in his own language. “Good morning!” said the beaming young
likely to be. But he couldn’t know, at this moment, and he couldn’t break cover and show himself, in case someone escaped to tell the tale. Secrecy was of the essence. When he killed it had to be anonymously, unless he could be absolutely sure of killing everyone who might be able to connect him with the affair. There was cover for most of the way back to the Riavka hut; only the thirty yards of open rock here outside the door, and the expanse of meadows well below, presented real hazards. And
something, a hint of appreciation, or at least belief; better still, a grain of confirmation. But when no one obliged, he did not look any the less convinced or any the less obstinate. “I know you must be much better informed than I am, sir, about this case of Alder’s. But if you want me to sum up everything as I find it, I’ll willingly go on.” “Please do,” said the Director, fingering the clipped silvery hair at his temple. “I assure you you have my very serious attention.” “What I found, of