Whodunit Quotes

“She craved a tall glass of the fresh-squeezed lemonade from the pitcher she’d left chilling in the fridge. Two glasses served with a generous slice of pound cake with orange glaze icing sounded twice as nice.”
― Ed Lynskey, Fur the Win

“Nozy Cat lifted one sleepy eyelid, and his marble blue eye glared at her for interrupting his sacred nap. He wore a yellow collar with little red stars printed on it. His second eyelid also opened, and he gave them his irritated blue-eyed glare.”
― lyn key, Nozy Cat 1

“Quote is taken from Chapter 1:

A decade ago when Isabel’s husband Max had died, they’d moved in together and merged their possessions. Neither sister brought any fussy teapots, canaries, sachets, or doilies, but lots of other stuff had to either stay or go. Looking at the lime green armchair gave Alma the willies. Her suggestion to slipcover it in a more subdued color had garnered Isabel’s frosty stare, and Alma had dropped the matter.”
― Ed Lynskey, Quiet Anchorage

“Christ, I feel like a naughty schoolboy again,” said Alec as they walked into King’s Bench Walk. “We have just had a dressing-down by the headmaster. Strider could easily be a man handy with a cane.”
“That man Strider is a crook,” said Bing-Wallace. “His utterances are like the product of a performance of Joseph Pujol … Le Pétomane!”
“Who is Joseph Pujol?”
“He is a well-known French flatulist performer.”
“What?” Alec stopped dead,
“A fartist, dear boy, a performer of farts.” Bing-Wallace began to giggle, as did Alec.”
― Hugo Woolley, The Wasp Trap

“Quote taken from Chapter 1 of The Corpse Wore Gingham:

"You love to figure out things as much as I do,” Piper said.

“Like what?” Bill asked.

“You fix broken stuff,” Piper replied.

“Repairing a broken toaster or steam iron is far different than unraveling a murder mystery," Bill said.”
― Ed Lynskey, The Corpse Wore Gingham

“What chilled my blood was a felt marker outline of a woman on the wall. Hands above the head, where there was a hook, then below the shape of the head, a neck strap. Then a waist strap, and two ankle clamps. The silhouette gave me no doubt that Gina had been confined here. But where was she now?”
― Grahame Shannon, Tiger and the Robot

“I envisaged a perfect detective’s assistant. She’d have long, wavy blonde hair, a short skirt, and curves in all the right places. She’d have a genius IQ, know how to hack and code, and be available at all hours. Now, make her into a robot. Sadly, I mentally removed her body, leaving a phone app.”
― Grahame Shannon, Tiger and the Robot

“I don't mind a reasonable amount of trouble.”
― Dashiell Hammett, The Maltese Falcon

“As the boat filled and capsized, the aluminum boom flew across the cockpit and hit the side of Tiger’s head.
The world was cold, blue, and shimmering. Thoughts swam through her mind like a school of tropical fish, moving in unison then darting off in all directions.”
― Grahame Shannon, Tiger and the Robot

“He was not a tall man, but he was wide. His face was the color and texture of old leather boots, and he was completely bald except for a gray walrus mustache that would have made Hulk Hogan jealous. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, even though it was chilly and wet. His arms were densely tattooed in style I didn’t recognize.”
― Grahame Shannon, Tiger and the Robot

“I slammed the door, floored the throttle, and reversed down the road as fast as the old car would go, which was not very. Then I spun the wheel and hit the brakes, backing off the road. I crunched the transfer lever into four-wheel drive and trundled off toward the water. Behind us, the pickup was backing and filling, trying to turn around on the narrow road.”
― Grahame Shannon, Tiger and the Robot

“The moonlight drifts in silently from the dark sky and onto the light wooden blinds that hang at each of the three windows in the narrow room. Outside, the streets are tranquil, radiating the heat of the August day that ended a few hours before.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“Ferraud kneels down next to the dead man’s head. His face is squashed into the dirt. The policeman gradually lowers himself towards the ground, trying to see more of the man without moving him. His nose is nearly touching the earth when the penny drops.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“The previous night he was in an accident. Ran over a homeless guy. She listens to a man fabricating at least some of the things he’s telling her. The human frailty of lying.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“Suddenly a door is thrown open from the building next to the vehicle, a man and a woman step out into the pool of the streetlight.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“Shouldering the duffel bag with the Marine Corps bulldog, Old Man knocked Jan's photo off the bed table. He turned to stone staring down at the photo. His face then splintered into hurt. Tears seeped into his eyes. He grappled for the nearest bedpost and slumped forward on extended arms. His shoulders jerked and head sagged a little while his heart broke. Old Man cried the mute cry of men of his generation.”
― Ed Lynskey, The Blue Cheer

“You’re a nosy sleuth like me because you can’t help it,” Alma said.”
― Ed Lynskey, Sweet Betsy

“She knows she is being watched through the camera in the corner. She waits. If they hadn’t taken her laptop and phone, she would be trying to find background on what this could be about.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“But Julia wouldn’t know what was good for her if it jumped up and bit her on the ass.” ”
― Diane L. Kowalyshyn, Catch .22

“The busy snoops like us can leave no stone unturned," Alma said.”
― Ed Lynskey, Sweet Betsy

“The wine and the blood from a cut on his head mix into a new red that drips onto the hard, grey floor.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“The traffic is heavy, the air is light; the sunshine dances off the vehicles as they flash by. Vast glass doors slide effortlessly open at her approach, and close behind her. Immediately the street noise has gone. Olivia is left in a vast marble room, at a distant desk sits a single woman; smart, efficient, and smiling.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“His body takes the impact of the young woman’s momentum and he groans as her weight lands against his stomach. They fall together, towards the table, she lands first and swivels to avoid Jean Luc’s hands as they reach out.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“The man immediately grabs the woman and pulls her inside of the building. The front door slams shut, the noise echoes along the front of the houses opposite.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“Raphael Sauvageau was pure, unmitigated male. His voice deep. His manner predatory. His gaze unapologetically lustful…

He could seduce a woman without saying a word. Make her aware of all the deep, empty places she ignored.”
― Kerrigan Byrne, Dancing With Danger

“The question stays in the chasm between them, both of their minds processing fast to anticipate the next move. A game of chess where all the pieces are their emotions.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“Amber shocks of wheat stretch into the distance and a single dirt track cuts its way through the fields. The air is still. The dust from her journey remains floating across the crops, a memory of a previous event.”
― M.F. Kelleher, Olivia Streete and the Parisian Contract

“Dangerous. A voice warned from somewhere far, far away. Someplace buried so deep in her psyche, she might have forgotten it even existed.

Her reason. Her wit.

He’d interred it beneath the avalanche of desire tumbling through her, tossing her end over end until she couldn’t decide which way was up.

Danger. You’re in danger.

The warning was closer now, more urgent. Enough to draw her back, breaking the seal of their lips.

She only had a moment of gratification at a similar haze unfocusing his stormy eyes before the clouds parted and he blinked down at her with an expression both alert and regretful.

“Forgive me,” he whispered, releasing the lock on her shackles and letting them fall to the floor.

She looked down at them in mute astonishment, not having even noticed he’d been working on them.

By the time she’d registered that he had moved, he’d slid out the door and pulled it shut and secured the padlock just as she lunged for him.”
― Kerrigan Byrne, Dancing With Danger

“He’d learned to rely on God’s prompting Spirit over the years. More than once, it had saved his life.”
― Crystal Caudill, Counterfeit Love

“But, if you're going to analyse impossible situations,' interrupted Pettis, 'why discuss detective fiction?'

'Because,' said the doctor, frankly, 'we're in a detective story, and we don't fool the reader by pretending we're not. Let's not invent elaborate excuses to drag in a discussion of detective stories. Let's candidly glory in the noblest pursuits possible to characters in a book.”
― John Dickson Carr, The Hollow Man