The Lesson
For an instant, I felt confused. An old Army man who spent his evenings telling bawdy stories at parties. “Who would want to murder him?”
“I don’t know,” Blitz said, “but a card stamped with a red dog was with his body.”
The Red Dog g**g.
Why would they kill Major Blackwood? He seemed harmless. He wasn’t in a Family. He had nothing to do with any of us. It made no sense. “Was that why my husband wanted to see me?”
Blitz glanced at the letter, then shrugged. “It must have been.”
“But why is he so concerned? Other than that it involves the Red Dog Gang.”
Mary said, “Didn’t he attend Queen’s Night dinner last year?”
“He did,” Blitz said, face thoughtful, “And that would make two out of the eight guests at that dinner party who are now dead.”
I hadn’t considered that aspect
