By John Dickson Carr
Publish yr note: First released in 1934
The bunk’s bed used to be soaked wit blood.
The outdated razor was once folded shut.
But it have been lately used. It was once smeared with blood.
A voice broke the bad stillness within the stateroom: “The Blind Barber Has Been the following Tonight!”
On an Atlantic crossing of the nice send Queen Victoria, a vicious killer is unfastened, and 4 high-living characters are hellbent to pin him down. Dr. Gideon Fell quickly reveals himself as much as his chins in misadventure as he wades right into a comedy of terrors that boasts a reel of compromising movie, an emerald elephant, and a deadly razor for props, homicide because the evils deed, and unmitigated mayhem because the comedy reduction.
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Extra info for The Blind Barber (Dr. Gideon Fell, Book 4)
One fist clutched a telephone; with the other hand he was jotting additions to a long list of items. He had an odd, glazed expression, and his glance flicked over Chris without seeing her. After what seemed a very long time, he mumbled a good-bye and hung up. "Liberated women," he snarled into the air above Chris's head. " She took one step closer to the counter. " the man snapped. " Chris looked over her shoulder, ready to run if necessary. "I suppose when you grow up you're going to want a career," the man jeered.
Uncle Ralph seemed pleased to have a job. He hurried off, and Grandma patted the bed beside her. "Sit here, Chrissy," she invited. "Now, how are things going? " The words spilled out. "Uncle Ralph doesn't want me with him. Oh, we get along okay"—she wanted to chase away Grandma's worried frown—"but he'll be glad when I'm gone. And so will I," she added. Grandma hugged her. "My Ralph is a loner, I'm afraid. He's lived by himself for a long time, and he's used to it. But I'm sure he's glad to have you with him, dear.
Time passed, and her muscles ached, but she stayed in her sheet-tent. When she peered out at last, the first gray light of morning was touching the windows. She stayed in bed another half-hour, listening to the world wake itself up. A cardinal sang. A squirrel scolded. The lake made its soft, lapping sounds. When she opened her bedroom door, the house was very still. Uncle Ralph's door was closed. The attic door was closed, too. There was nothing unusual to see, except for the chest. It stood out from the attic door at an angle, as if it had been roughly thrust aside.