Chapter ThirteenOld Dog Tries New Trick
In the early afternoon, John Squareless appeared at the front door. He was wearing his windbreaker again, the air having grown chill and the sunlight pale.
“Afraid you people will think I’m a busybody instead of a recluse,” he said to Sybil, who answered his knock.
“We prefer you as a busybody,” said Sybil. “Do come in.”
She led him into the living-room where Tim, who had been making a half-hearted effort to straighten out his notes in the library, joined them.
Squareless sat in an easy chair and lit his pipe. “Heard about the unpleasant discovery you two made this morning,” he said. “Something of a shock, I should imagine.”
“A bit,” said Sybil. “However, the police seem to have the situation well in hand.”
“Do they?” said Squareless. “From wh
