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." I smiled
at her. "In its classic form you would turn out to be the killer... a fact that
would develop slowly while you pretended to help me search. The sophisticated
reader would know from chapter one that you did it, but I, as the detective,
would never guess what was as plain as the nose on your face. Correction: on my
face."
"Oh, my nose is plain enough; it's my mouth that men remember. Richard, I
am not going to help you hang this on me; I simply offered you a hideout. Was he
really killed? I couldn't be sure."
"Eh?" I was saved from answering too quickly by Morris's arrival with our
liqueurs. When he left, I answered, "I had not thought about any other
possibility. Gwen, he was not wounded. Either he was killed almost instantly...
or it was faked. Could it be faked? Certainly. If shown on holo, it could be
done in real time with only minor props." I mulled it over. Why had the
restaurant staff been so quick, so precise, in covering it up? Why had I not
felt that tap on the shoulder? "Gwen, I'll take you up on that offer. If the
proctors want me, they'll find me. But I would like to discuss this with you in
greater detail than we can manage here, no matter how carefully we keep our
voices down."
"Good." She stood up. "I won't be long, dear." She headed for the lounges.
As I stood up Morris handed me my stick and I leaned on it as I followed
her toward the lounges
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