What better disguise for a thief or a murderer than a wheelchair, the perfect alibi.”Chris enjoyed being taken for the criminal type. Now they really were friends.

It can have no bearing on the matter before us. Sam Westing manipulated people, cheated workers, bribed officials, stole ideas, but Sam Westing never smoked or drank or placed a bet. Give me a bookie...

I remember the will said, ‘May God thy gold refine.’ That must be from the Bible.””Shakespeare,” Turtle said. All quotations were either from the Bible or Shakespeare.

Life, too, is senseless unless you know who you are, what you want, and which way the wind blows.

Who were these people, these specially selected tenants? They were mothers and fathers and children. A dressmaker, a secretary, an inventor, a doctor, a judge. And, oh yes, one was a bookie, one was a...

Angela Wexler, person

Angela could not be the bomber, not that sweet, pretty thing. Thing? Is that how she regarded that young woman, as a thing? And what had she ever said to her except “I hear you’re...

Hey Chris, bet you don’t know the Latin name of the red-headed woodpecker.”That was a hard one. Chris had to say Melanerpes erythrocephalus very slowly.

Grace sat down where the chair wasn’t.