Citater
He looked at the first page and smiled. ‘Already the handwriting is known to me …’
‘How?’
But Pünd didn’t answer. He had begun to read.
‘How?’
But Pünd didn’t answer. He had begun to read.
We had a row that morning. I can’t even remember what started it. But then he started screaming at me – how I was his, how he would never let me go. I’d heard it all before. Only this time, he was crazier than ever. You noticed that there was a painting missing in the great hall. It was a portrait of me, which he’d commissioned as a present for my fortieth birthday. As a matter of fact it was done by Arthur Redwing.’ She turned to Pünd. ‘Have you met him?’
Later that night I found out why. I’d treated myself to a taxi and the driver had the radio on. It was the fourth item on the evening news.
Alan Conway was dead
Alan Conway was dead
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