Robert Newman > Quotes

“It takes more energy to find the words to describe poems than almost anything I can think of, except of course for trying to find the damn words to write one. ”
― Robert Newman

“I’m expecting another friend,” said Beasley. “I’m not sure when he’ll get here, but . . .”
“If I’m not mistaken,” said Sara, who was facing the door, “he’s here now.”
Andrew and Beasley both turned as Wyatt came in. He saw them at the same time that they saw him, scowled as he approached the table.
“What the blue blazes are the two of you doing here?” he asked.
“They’re having lunch with me,” said Beasley.
“Why today?”
“Why not today? They know they’re welcome anytime. Meet my friend, Keegee Clipson. Inspector Peter Wyatt of Scotland Yard.”
“What?” said Clipson, bouncing to his feet. “Is this the friend you was talking about? I ain’t having lunch with no poxy slop, specially not a crusher!”
“Ah, language!” sighed Beasley. “What riches we can find in common speech. Do you know what he’s talking about, Sara?”
“Of course. Used this way, poxy is a derogatory adjective like blinking and blooming. A slop is back-slang for a copper or policeman and a crusher is a plainclothes policeman.”
“Well done,” said Beasley. Then to Clipson, “Are you impressed?”
“No, I’m leaving!”
“You are not,” said Beasley, catching him by the sleeve. “Sit down.”
“I told you . . .” said Clipson.
“I know. But you’re not having it with him. You’re having it with Sara, Andrew and me.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“I take it you’re going.”
“Of course. Do you want to come with me?”
She looked at him steadily. “If you hadn’t shown me the telegram, I would have thrown the teapot at you. If you hadn’t asked me to come, I would have thrown the teapot and the milk jug.”
“Lucky I did then,” he said, smiling.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Frightened Friend

“Got your eye full?” asked Sara aggressively as he looked at her, repeating the first words she had ever said to him.
“Yes, I have,” he said smiling.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Frightened Friend

“I’m sorry I took so long,” she said. “Your mother wanted me to look at something.”
“A new hat.”
“How do you know?”
“When you have spent a lifetime unraveling the secrets of the human soul, my dear,” he began in a cracked, old man’s voice.
“Oh, poof! You saw the box!”
“Right.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“That means Peter must have wanted to tell him something. Was it something he wanted him to do?”
“Probably. The question is, what was it? And who helped Beasley?” They stared at one another. “Come on, Sara, think! If Peter was able to figure it out, we should be able to.”
“That’s not true. He is a little older and more experienced than we are and, since he’s at the Yard, he may have information that we don’t have.”
“That’s so. And I suppose we ought to allow for the possibility that he may be just a little smarter than we are.”
“What are you saying?” said Sara with pretended incredulity.
“I know,” said Andrew, smiling. “I don’t really think that’s possible either, but . . . you know what? Tomorrow, just for fun, I’d like to see if we can’t do a little more about this—either find Beasley or figure out what it is Peter wants Sean to do.”
“Peter won’t like it. That’s probably why he didn’t want us around when he talked to Sean.”
“He didn’t tell us to stay out of it, did he?”
“He probably thought we’d have sense enough to know that without his saying anything about it. Those Thugs sound like an awfully scary crew. Still, I suppose if we’re careful . . .”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“They had never actually shadowed anyone before, but they had heard enough talk about it from Peter Wyatt and Sergeant Tucker so that they understood the general theory, which was: be inconspicuous, but not conspicuously inconspicuous. In other words, don’t try so hard not to be noticed that everyone notices you.
The first thing they did was separate, one walking on one side of the street, the other on the other side. And they took turns watching their quarry. Andrew would hang back, looking into a shop window, actually going into a shop or sitting down on a step to adjust the laces on his boot while Sara drifted along, keeping her eye on Willie. Then, when she had gone several blocks, Andrew would amble past her and take the lead in watching while she hung back. Of course, since Willie knew them, none of this would have done much good if he had been suspicious and looked around to see if he were being followed. But apparently he wasn’t the least bit suspicious and just kept on with his hard, dusty work.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“Do you remember old Harry Hopwood, Inspector?”
“Of course. He was one of the first major arrests I made.”
“Right. Nabbed him after that break-in on Greek Street you did. But there was a good deal of swag that was never recovered. Lot of old coins, for instance.”
“Yes. There was a goodish reward offered for their return.”
“Right. Well, old Harry’s dead, died about two months ago. We was pals in the clink, and knowing he was mortal sick and not likely to make it out the gate, he told me where he’d hid the stuff, and I thought I’d like to tell you.”
“Oh? To collect the reward?”
“No. I don’t want the reward. They can give it to Mr. Norwood here for that society of his. I’m just trying to prove to everyone that, from now on, I’m really going straight.”
“Nifty, I won’t say I’m surprised,” said Wyatt, “because I’m not. I’m dumbfounded, dumb-foozled, and just plain bowled-over!”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“You want to know something? You’re all right, Andrew. You and Sara and Sean. You’re all all right, have been all through these last few days, and I won’t forget it.”
“Oh, sure.” He put on his best Cockney accent. “We’ave been blooming wonders, we have. Three right ream and rorty coves.”
“Well, you have been—in spite of that shoful accent that you shouldn’t even try.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“But what made you tumble, Inspector?”
“I’m not sure,” said Wyatt. “Though I’ve heard them and seen them dozens of times, something seemed wrong when I heard them a few minutes ago. It took me a little while to realize what it was. And it was the drum.”
“The drum?”
“They’re none of them really good musicians. The drummer—who’s probably their leader—least of all. He just kept up a steady pounding with no variation in rhythm. But what struck me as odd, though I didn’t realize it at the time, was that every once in a while, for no apparent reason, he’d stop.”
“When one of the dips passed him something to put in his pocket!” said Andrew.
“That’s it.”
“Well, you’ve done it again,” said Tucker gravely. “It just goes to show what kind of education you need to get ahead on the force. Why, you’ve even got to be a musician. All right, all right,” he said as Wyatt turned on him with mock ferocity. “After this you can shy all the coconuts you like at me, and I won’t even try to dodge.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Frightened Friend

“Just before they reached Happy Jack’s corner, they passed a bake shop, and Sara said, “How would it be if we brought him a little something for his tea?”
“You do get ideas, don’t you?” said Andrew. “Let’s.”
They went in and, after some discussion, passed up the penny buns and jam tarts and ended up with a slice of lardy cake, all sugared and stuffed with raisins and heavy enough to sink a man-of-war.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“What are you planning to tell your mother about all this when you get home, Andrew?”
“I don’t see any need to tell her anything.”
“You don’t? What do you say when she asks where you’ve been all day?”
“Why,” said Sara cheerfully, “we were on a boat trip on the canal. It was very interesting and instructive. We learned something about dustmen and dust yards and about Indian religions. But, best of all, we met a police officer from India who turned out to be a good friend of Beasley’s as well as the inspector’s and whom he’ll almost certainly invite to dinner.”
“Isn’t there a folk saying about teaching one’s grandmother to suck eggs?” said Captain Ross with a smile.
“There is,” said Wyatt. “And the interesting part of it is that every word of what she said is true.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“We could do it easily if the three of us took turns watching him,” he said. “I don’t think we should worry your mother,” he told Sara, “but why don’t you invite me to stay for supper so I can see what Dr. Reeves says when he comes back? And, after that, you can suggest that since it’s so late, I should stay overnight. Then we can make our own arrangements about who stays with him when.”
“And if Dr. Reeves doesn’t come back?” asked Andrew.
“We won’t be sure about that until about nine or ten o’clock, which will be late enough so that there’ll be all the more reason for me to stay.”
“Will you stay for supper, Sean?” Sara asked with no change of expression. “We’re having one of Mrs. Simmons’ specialties, Wiltshire gammon with Cumberland sauce, which I happen to know you like.”
“I love any kind of ham, Sara,” said Sean, his face as expressionless as hers, “but I love Wiltshire gammon best of all. Thank you very much.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“Did he say anything about your mother?”
“No. I don’t think he saw her when he looked in. He just saw you.”
“Well, I suppose we should be thankful for small blessings.”
“Oh, there you are,” said Verna as she was bowed out of Worthington’s by the man in the frock coat. “Have you been here long?”
“No, just a few minutes,” said Andrew.
“Why didn’t you come in?”
Andrew glanced at Sara. “We didn’t mind waiting outside,” he said.
“I think that what we’re faced with,” said Wyatt, “is an excess of discretion, which, while unnecessary, does have its charm. But that’s enough of that.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“Wyatt arrived at the house shortly after Sara and Andrew got home. They were in the sitting room with Verna when his hansom drew up outside. Even before Matson opened the door and they heard his voice, Verna seemed to know who it was. She had been sober, quiet. But now her face lit up and there was a glow about her, a warmth in her eyes, that Andrew had not often seen there before.
“My dear,” she said when he came in.
“How are you?” he said, going directly to her and taking her hands.
They remained that way for a moment, he standing in front of her and holding her hands and Verna staring up at him. At first both of them seemed content with that, merely looking at one another. Then Verna smiled.
“Is that all the greeting I get?” she asked.
“Would anything more be proper?”
“Quite proper.”
Bending down, Wyatt kissed her and again they looked long and searchingly at one another before he straightened up.
“Good evening, Sara. Good evening, Andrew,” he said with deliberately excessive formality. “I trust you are both well.”
“We are,” said Sara, smiling.
“You’re staying for dinner, aren’t you?” said Verna.
“I’d very much like to.”
“Good.” She rang for Matson, asked him to tell Mrs. Simmonds that, as they had hoped, Inspector Wyatt would be staying for dinner.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“But it wasn’t our fault,” said Sara.
“Of course not,” said Wyatt scathingly. “You were on board the launch for a tour of the canal system, which leaves London Bridge every hour on the hour!”
“You’re being sarcastic because you’re angry,” said Andrew patiently, “but it really wasn’t our fault. We were on the launch because we’d been kidnapped.”
“Kidnapped where and when?”
“At Beasley’s shop this morning.”
“What were you doing there?”
“Looking for Sean.”
“Why?”
Andrew hesitated, glancing at Sara. They were standing just outside the warehouse—he, Sara, Wyatt, Beasley, and, somewhat surprisingly, Captain Clemson. The reason he hesitated was that Wyatt might have a right to be angry at this point.
And then, again surprisingly, Clemson spoke up. “Excuse me, inspector,” he said. “I don’t want to interfere, but they weren’t on the launch of their own free will. The Indians had them in the house and brought them along.”
“Is he a friend of yours?” Sara asked Wyatt, looking at Clemson.
“In a way,” said Wyatt. “But he seems to be a friend of yours, too, trying to find excuses for your being in a place where you shouldn’t have been."
“Look, we all know why you’re so angry, inspector,” said Beasley. “It’s because you like this pair of rapscallions—as who doesn’t—and you were worried about them. But I suspect things wouldn’t have worked out as nicely as they did if it wasn’t for them. I’ll bet they were the ones who spotted us from the house.”
“You don’t say! And what do you want me to do about it—give them each a medal?”
“No,” said Andrew, playing on the fact that Wyatt was speaking a little more moderately. “All we want is for you not to be quite so angry with us.”
“And of course let us know what’s been going on,” said Sara. “Exactly what’s been happening and why.”
“You would want to know that,” said Wyatt dryly. “And you’ll remember everything I say, and the next time it’ll be even harder to keep you out of any case you get within a mile of.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“And now,” said Wyatt when the headwaiter and the other waiters had gone, “what do you think we were doing in Worthington’s?”
“It was Sara’s guess that you were buying a ring,” said Andrew.
“As usual,” said Wyatt, “Sara was right.”
“May we see it?” said Sara.
Verna hesitated a moment, then took a box from her purse and opened it, showing them a gold ring set with a small but exquisitely cut diamond.
“It’s beautiful!” said Sara. “But why aren’t you wearing it?”
“I don’t know,” said Verna. “I suppose because I feel a little awkward about it. After all, I’m not exactly a young and blushing bride-to-be.”
“Because you have a son?” said Wyatt. “That has nothing to do with it. As for the rest, knowing your talent, I’m sure you could blush if you thought it was necessary. So, as a favor to Sara as well as me, won’t you wear it?”
“Since you ask me so nicely, yes,” said Verna and, taking off her glove, put the ring on. “It really is lovely, darling,” she said, holding it up. “Thank you.”
“No,” said Wyatt. “Thank you.” And leaning over, he kissed her lightly on the cheek. “All of which calls for a small celebration, which, with my usual foresight, I have of course provided for.”
He signaled to the headwaiter, who brought over a silver ice bucket with a bottle of champagne in it, which he twirled dexterously to chill before opening.
“On an occasion like this,” Wyatt went on, “I think the young people should be permitted to join us, don’t you, my dear?”
“I certainly do,” said Verna, smiling at the two of them.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“You know, Mr. Holmes, you could make a fortune on the stage reading minds. Would you like to go a step further and tell me what I’ve come to see you about?” “I suspect it’s yesterday’s bombing in the Baker Street Underground station.” Gregory continued to stare at him for a moment, then slapped his thigh. “Mr. Holmes, no matter how high my regard for you is, it’s clear I don’t regard you highly enough.” “That goes without saying,” said Holmes with only the slightest touch of irony.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Baker Street Irregular

“Well,” he said. “The troublesome two.”
“Troublesome to whom?” asked Andrew.
“Us at the Yard. Though I’ll admit you’ve given a certain amount of trouble to a few yobbos, too.”
“I should say we have,” said Sara. “You wouldn’t have solved half the cases you have if it wasn’t for us. Where’s Wyatt?”
“He’ll be along. He was on his way here when the commissioner sent for him. So he sent me over to tell you why he was late and that he’d be here when he could.”
“Something up?” asked Andrew.
“There’s always something up at the Yard. What do you think we do all day, sit around figuring form for the races?”
“I know you do most of the time. But I meant something important. There must be if the commissioner sent for Wyatt.”
“How do you know he didn’t want to ask him who his tailor is?”
“He probably asked him that a long time ago,” said Sara. “Come on, Sergeant. Tell us.”
“I will not. That’s how the trouble always starts. Someone tells you three words about a case, and the next thing we know you’re in it up to your sit-me-downs.”
“All right,” said Andrew. “Just tell us if it’s animal, vegetable or mineral.”
“I’ll tell you nothing. I’ll tell Frank here,” he said to the waiter who had reappeared, “what his nibs is having for lunch. And by the time it gets here, he’ll be here. A steak and kidney pie for the inspector, Frank.”
“And a pint of your best bitter, of course.”
“Of course.”
Sara and Andrew decided to have steak and kidney pie, too, and Tucker proved to be as good a prophet in this as he was in most things, for about the time the waiter reappeared with their order, Wyatt came hurrying in.
“Sorry I’m late. You explained?” he asked Tucker.
“I did.”
“I left a note on your desk. Take care of it as soon as you can.”
“Aren’t you having lunch with us?” Sara asked Tucker.
“Someone has to hold the fort,” said the sergeant. “I’ll grab a bite at the pub, but I suspect I’ll be seeing the two of you again sometime soon.” And giving them an exaggerated salute, he left.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“But say that everything you’ve said is true, what possible connection can those murders that were committed ten years ago have with the ones that have just been committed now?”
“I don’t know. I just know that I’m very worried. Can’t you see how I would be?” he said to Verna. “It’s a very frightening situation at best. And when I think that you—you of all people—might be in danger . . .”
“I understand, Peter,” said Verna with unaccustomed meekness. “And I promise to be good. To keep off the stage until you discover who’s responsible for these horrible deaths and tell me it’s safe to go back on the boards again.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“There's something rum about this," she said. "Beasley was your friend long before he was ours. You introduced us to him and we know you like him, but somehow you don't seem terribly upset at what's happened to him. Is it because you know something that we don't?"
"What can I know when I just got back to London?"
"I don't know," said Andrew, "but Sara's right. You either know something or you've guessed something. I'll bet you know what's happened to him, maybe even where he is."
"That's very flattering. Do you think I'm a magician, a psychic, or the Sleuth of all Sleuths?"
"If you mean by that, the best detective in England, the answer is, yes. Sometimes."
"I repeat, that's very flattering, and it's nice to be appreciated by two such illustrious colleagues, but— " He broke off at a knock.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“Do you think you’ll be able to take care of what he wanted to see you about?” asked Andrew.
“As always, I intend to do my best.”
“All right,” said Sara. “We give up. So you don’t intend to tell us what the commissioner wanted or about the case you’re on. What did you want to see us about?”
“It’s the holiday season. Andrew has just come back to London after several months away at school, and I haven’t seen you since he was last here. Isn’t that enough reason to want to see the two of you?”
“To send me a telegram making an appointment for my first day home?” said Andrew. “The answer is no.”
“Why do you think I wanted to see you?”
“I don’t mind guessing when it serves some useful purpose. But since you’re bound to tell us sooner or later, I’ll just wait until you do.”
“You get more difficult every time I see you,” said Wyatt.
“You say that every time we see you,” said Sara. “And then you give us that look.”
“What look is that?”
“The one that asks, ‘Can I trust them to do what I want and keep quiet about it?’ And the ridiculous part of it is that you must have decided that you could trust us or you never would have sent Andrew that telegram.”
“True. All right, I’ll tell you.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Murdered Players

“You realize, of course, that this is the first time we've been separated since we were married."
"I do. But it won't be for long."
He kissed her, closed the carriage door and, as it moved off, signaled to a waiting four-wheeler.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Indian Curse

“Because when I saw you yesterday afternoon, you claimed you weren’t sure that something was wrong with Cortland’s grandfather. But if you sent a note to Sir Arthur, you must have been sure that something was wrong even before you brought Dr. Reeves there this morning.”
“Are you trying to evaluate your judgment or mine?”
“Either or both,” said Andrew with a grin.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Frightened Friend

“Except to Mrs. Harker. And just a few minutes ago you were urging me to help her.” “But that was before you were asked to help put a stop to the bombings. I confess that your reasoning baffles me.” “Not for the first time, Watson. And probably not for the last.”
― Robert Newman, The Case of the Baker Street Irregular