Chapter XI THE PUZZLEMENT OF NIGEL ENNISON Nigel Ennison walked towards his club the most puzzled man in London. She had always wondered when they would start being able to trace her kills, with their expanding systems of criminal databases and computers, and now it was starting to happen. I won't have a beachcomber on the island. It was a perfect windless spring day, a Sunday. "You have," rejoined Jonathan, laying a forcible grasp on his shoulder.
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