A Beautiful Blue Death Quotes
"You could be proper or you could investigate. Not both."
"What bliss was there to compare to a warm fire, fresh socks, and buttered toast on a cold day!"
"If at twenty he had been single-minded and occasionally obsessive, at forty he had mellowed."
"It's only a house away. He should put his boots on—they were tossed under his desk, next to an open copy of Much Ado—and get ready to go."
"Lady Jane Grey was a childless widow of just past thirty, who lived in the next house over."
"Bella indigo, the beautiful blue. The name is ironic: the veins in the victim's extremities, depending on their size, turn red."
"The destination didn't matter to him, unless you could call some genus of orchid a destination."
"She was provocative with men, and with her friends."
"As he looked through the window of his library, Lenox could see the chimneys on Hampden Lane giving off black wisps of smoke."
"No matter how much one may love the world as a whole, one can live fully in it only by living responsibly in some small part of it."
"But at least, he thought with grim satisfaction, he was ahead of Exeter, who was still twisting his whiskers and thinking the girl had destroyed herself while his underlings stroked his ego."
"Who walks among us, he asked himself, with a young maid’s death on their hands?"
"The child is the father of the man, I always say."
"It is rare, but some girls are that way. You may recall Elizabeth, who was in service here some years ago, sir. She was of that ilk."
"The only question that remained with him, after this conclusion, was why Barnard had felt strongly enough to write him."
"Indeed it does. But you were right to say that Barnard would usually be too proud to have a man like Potts in his house—you know, salt of the earth."
"No specific shadow stalked him, but from the corner of his eye he sensed a presence behind him amid the flickering lamps that played along the cobblestones."
"It was the sort of thing for which he had developed an instinct."
"He protected himself as well as he could with his arms, but they rained blows across his shoulders."
"I see you’ve come from Barnard’s? It’s only just after three."
"You may be right, of course, but what do we know about any of it?"
"Life would be a good deal easier if you were, my dear fellow."
"The toe in his stomach, therefore, was shocking, and by the time the other man had recovered, Lenox was overwhelmed."
"Oh, but Charles, you’re right, it seems impossible as well, of course."
"They say very little ready money, said Sir Edmund, plucking another scone from the tray and spreading clotted cream over it."
"It had taken two hours—and an effort akin to rowing ten miles—to go through all the courses."
"There are probably worse things than dancing with Barnard, but at the moment I can’t think of them."
"How can it be so frightfully warm when it’s so cold outside?"
"Very brave, if he’s not guilty of murder. If he is, I shan’t know what to think."
"How long a knife? Fairly long, six inches or more, I should say."
"Late last night, the distinguished MP for Renton and former Oxford Blue, Jack Soames, was murdered in cold blood."
"The only people we can account for are Soames and Claude, the two men I thought were most likely to have killed Prue."
"Charles, I’ve never had such a thrilling day in all my life!"
"Yes, it all fit, he thought. The leaf, the candle, the alibis of the suspects, the peculiar use of bella indigo."
"When they met briefly and Claude hit Eustace, they must have very quickly hatched a plan..."
"Why murder Soames, and even murder someone to get to Soames? What power did he have?"
"I had concluded that the valuable thing in Barnard’s house would be very difficult to move..."
"Absolutely right," Edmund said. "Especially in a crowded house. You would need twenty men to walk inconspicuously through the house."
"The party would have been a bad time for it."
"But why all of this? Why murder Soames, and even murder someone to get to Soames? What power did he have?"
"I suspect Barnard has done equally well by his brother and sister."
"Why, when he was completely solvent, did people say that Jack Soames was ruined? Who started that rumor?"
"And the real motive was in fact not the valuable thing in Barnard’s house, which took me even farther afield and left the nephews plenty of breathing room until they could kill Soames, by which time both of them would have an alibi."
"No, I don’t think the gallows. Twenty or thirty years in prison, most likely."
"The Pacific Trust—well, I shan’t bore you with details. It is a company that has been extremely successful, and its shareholders have received steady dividends while the price of shares tripled."
"I think you’re right. They would have followed the vote closely—and they would also have known, as I learned from The Times after Soames’s death, that James Maitland had been virtually promised the next vacancy on the board, being one of the company’s chief investors, and that he favored the more investor-friendly option."
"I believe that’s all. I think there’s little danger that the two young men will leave town. They think, particularly with Exeter bumbling around, that they’re off scot-free."