By Arthur W. Upfield
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Extra info for An Author Bites the Dust (Inspector Bonaparte 11)
I was born at Wood’s Point. ” “Of course. ” Bony said, seriously. ” Simes nodded, saying, “Yes, but I’m no artist. Several real artists have told me my work shows promise, and they urged me to study. ” “Not being an artist, I think it a fine picture of Donna Buang. ” “Nice old thing,” Simes said, and Bony was glad he had succeeded in getting behind the policeman’s official facade. “She and her sea-captain brother settled here in the early thirties. He was a bit of a tartar, and he didn’t approve when she fell in love with a timber faller.
It is now Qth January. ” “No, I expressed no opinions, Bony. ” “In fact, you were discouraged from giving opinions. Well, having met Inspector Snook on another case, I can understand that. Now tell me what you did, saw, and heard following the summons by Dr Fleetwood. Relate your reactions, your own opinions. Forget that I have studied your official report. Light your pipe and let your mind relax. Begin with the weather that morning. ” Simes smiled slightly and relit his pipe. “I can begin with the weather easily enough,” he said.
Bony stepped through the hole in the fence. Beneath the trees the darkness was complete, and he moved away, not towards the writing-room but towards the large house, keeping well within the darkness provided by the lilac-trees. Eventually he came to a soft gravel path laid between the fence and the house and bordered by standard roses. This 25 gave place to an open space which he was sure although he could not see, was the driveway from the gate to the front entrance. There was no light in any of the front rooms or the hall.