"
"And something terrible did happen," Dundee guessed. "You're looking
positively ghoulish. Out with it!"
"After about half an hour of playing without pivoting," Penny went on
imperturbably, "Hugo bid three spades, Karen raised him--in a trembling
voice--to five spades, Hugo of course went to a little slam, and Dexter
Sprague, if you can believe me, said: 'Better not leave the table,
Karen. _A little slam-bid in spades has been known to be fatal to the
dummy!_'"
"_No!_" Dundee was genuinely shocked, but before he could say more the
telephone rang. "Sanderson at last.... Hello! Chicago?... Oh, hello,
Captain Strawn!... _What's that?_... Oh, my God!... Where did you say
the body is?"
He listened for a long minute, then, with a dazed "Thanks! I'll be
over," he hung up the receiver.
"Sprague--murdered!" he answered the horrified question in Penny's eyes.
"Body discovered this morning about nine by one of the Miles' maids, in
what you described just now as the 'trophy room'.... Shot--just below
the breastbone, Captain Strawn says."
"The trophy room!" Penny cried. "Then--_that's_ where he was all the
time after he disappeared so strangely last night--"
"Whoa, Penny!" Dundee commanded. "Get hold of yourself! You're shaking
all over.
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