Sublime

It might make things easier if he went down to London again and found Marlowe. Report in, like a good soldier. But he swore he wouldn’t work for Marlowe again. Not after Malaya.

Henry Tibbett was not a man who looked like a great detective. In fact, as he would be the first to point out, he was not a great detective, but a conscientious and observant policeman, with an occasional flair for intuitive detection which he called “my nose”. There were very few of his superiors who were not prepared to listen, and to take

Quite a strange man, thought James, watching him go – but what a relief to discover he still contained the capacity to be taken by surprise.

‘We are solving a mystery,’ said James, examining Grace with pleasure, and becoming extraordinarily handsome. ‘Would you like to see?’

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd