Lord Peter Wimsey bent clown over General Fentiman and drew the Morning Post gently away from the gnarled old hands. Then, with a quick jerk, he lifted...
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Lord Peter Wimsey bent clown over General Fentiman and drew the Morning Post gently away from the gnarled old hands. Then, with a quick jerk, he lifted the quiet figure. It came up all of a piece, stiff as a wooden doll ... But how did the general die? Who was the mysterious Mr X who fled when he was wanted for questioning? And which of the general's heirs, both members of the Bellona Club, is lying? This sinister case takes Dorothy L. Sayers' unique detective from London to Paris and finally back to the hushed dignity of the Bellona Club itself.