Ed runs an errand for Mr. Rollo.

What happened at Devil’s Cape no longer surprised anyone. At least once a year, a body washed ashore.

Dr. Vandermeer laughed. First to himself because he was a true capitalist. Then out loud because he simply wanted to.

The famous lexical semanticist Professor Edgar Nettleston had been found dead, a gunshot wound to the head.

Outwardly Seth didn’t react as he watched Mrs. Hatfield misplay the four spade contract, but inwardly he groaned. True, she made it, but most of the other pairs would make it with an overtrick.

If I can just keep walking, I can burn off some of this nervous energy. I need to walk until I’m exhausted, until I can convince myself that this rapid, stuttering heartbeat of mine is the result of exercise.

An investigator is put on the case when a mad philologist steals a new weapon.

Paulo’s muted tongue was as dry as the arctic air, and his heart just as cold. The blood from the knife dripped carelessly onto the pavement.

"Damn thing," old Ernie muttered, glancing up from his laptop. He reached out to shut off the annoying noise but noticed the call was from his area. This was unusual.

He steals with swift, simple hands in the yellow Roman sun. The crowds are bulging, swollen, and he bobs amongst them as silent as a jellyfish.