Susan in NC’s Reviews > The Case of the Seven Whistlers > Status Update

“A motor-barge with two butties trailing behind slowly passed. The man steering withdrew his pipe, spat in the canal, and bade Littlejohn good evening. He looked so contented. Not a care in the world. His wife was dying in a hospital not far away and his only boy had been killed in the war. You never knew.… Despair brings its own form of resignation.”

“ Littlejohn yawned again. The case was boring him. The number of dead-ends was becoming exasperating. He must make a bold move or he looked like being at it for ever.” glad it’s not just me getting bored…

“ The fatal box was still at the police station. Littlejohn went and examined it again. What wouldn’t he have given for one of the classical clues! A thread from a coloured dress or jumper, an imprint on the bottom of a pair of number 7 shoes, or a distinctive sole, a fingerprint or a thread of golden hair!”

“ In that backwater nobody seemed to care about anything.… Littlejohn was relieved to get in the street again. The air was like wine after the greasy fug of The Seven Whistlers. He hoped he’d finished his trips there, although he had his doubts.”

“ “Well, and now that you’re here, we might as well have a little talk, Mrs. Hollis.” “That’s what I come for. Here’s the place for police business, not the ’omes of respectable, hard-workin’ people.” “Yuss,” emphatically stated Mr. Hollis. He was very respectable, but not hard-working. He was described as a jobbing-gardener at the Labour Exchange, but most of his jobbing consisted in dodging the gardening.”

“ Miss Adlestrop looked a bit sheepish. Littlejohn wondered if these two pompous friends of the little old maid were rivals for her hand, but soon found he was wrong. They were antagonists in a higher cause. They carried on a perpetual battle for Miss Adlestrop’s very good health. Littlejohn and his murder again faded temporarily into the background.”

“ “Deelighted to meet you … Deelighted,” said Mr. Troyte. He had a pug dog’s teeth, as well, and his voice came from straight behind them, a sort of wuffing noise, thick and unctuous. Like one of Walt Disney’s large, benevolent animals. It gave you a queer sort of feeling when he gave tongue. As though a pet dog suddenly started to articulate.”

“ Gillespie seemed to be imparting the background of the crime on the instalment plan and Littlejohn was developing an itch to have the reins of the case in his fingers and go off on his own gathering background, as was his custom.”