Fallen Into the Pit (Felse, Book 1)
Ellis Peters
Language: English
Pages: 186
ISBN: 0708848397
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
When an obnoxious former Nazi land-worker is murdered in the small English village of Comerford, Chad Wedderburn, classics master and hero of the Resistance in WWII, is accused of the murder. But none of his students believes he is guilty, including Dominic Felse, who discovered the body. Dominic resolves to discover the true murderer.
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luck—nobody was supposed to know yet, he was just on his way home to tell his father. And then inside an hour he was dead. Well, I didn’t think of it quite like that until today, because old Blunden still sort of wasn’t there in the everybody who could have done it. But I did get to thinking awfully hard about the land, and it did seem, didn’t it, that everything that happened round here was something to do with keeping that land from the coal people.” “Everything? Previous events as well?”
setting in. He was very tired, his eyelids drooping; but he wanted to get rid of all of it, and sleep emptied of even the last dregs of his seething excitement. “Not tonight,” said Bunty comfortably. “I’m saving that up for tomorrow.” “But, Dad, if Pussy didn’t bring you there, like I expected, how did you get there? I’m jolly glad you did, but how did you?” “I followed Blunden,” said George simply. “I’d gone part of the way you went, about Helmut’s murder, about the way the land kept cropping
kicked at the thick blond tussocks of grass, and the trailers of bramble in his path, and moved a little aside from Charles to skirt a place where the rains of many years had made a deep channel, too permanent for even this dry season to obliterate. Aside among the scattered trees and clearings of new saplings, funnel-shaped pits, a dozen yards across and often as deep, punctured the level crest of the mounds. These were so frequent, and so taken for granted, that the infants of Comerford, though
remember all you’ve told us. It’s perfectly good evidence, and I won’t lose sight of it. Satisfied?” “Mmmm, I suppose so. You know, it’s so easy to say things like Cooke was saying, but it isn’t true. All kinds of fellows had to fight, thousands and thousands of them, but they were still just as much all kinds in the end, weren’t they? I think it may have got easier for some, and harder and harder for others. And anyhow, you can’t just lump people all together, like that.” He flushed a little,
his scar. Tonight he had another mark, too, a small punctured bruise upon the same cheek, of which at the moment he seemed completely unaware. The doctor was a little, grimly gay, middle-aged man with brilliant eyes, and false teeth which slipped at the most awkward moments, and which he plugged testily back into position with a sudden thumb whenever they tripped him. He looked over his shoulder at George, and with a welcoming grin, as who should say: “Ah, trouble!” pulled him directly into