The Continental Op is a short, squat, and utterly unsentimental tank of a private detective. Miss Gabrielle Dain Leggett is young, wealthy, and a devotee of morphine and religious cults. She has an unfortunate effect on the people around her: they have a habit of dying violently. Is Gabrielle the victim of a family curse? Or is the truth about her weirder and infinitely more dangerous? The Dain Curse is one of the Continental Op's most bizarre cases, and a tautly crafted masterpiece of suspense.
From the Trade Paperback edition.
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|Title of eBook: The Dain Curse|
|Release Date: 02-23-2011|
|Allowed Countries (hover)|
|Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group|
This eBook download is available in the following formats:
|Parent title||The Dain Curse|
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The Dain Curse
It was a diamond all right, shining in the grass half a dozen feet from the blue brick wall. It was small, not more than a quarter of a carat in weight, and unmounted. I put it in my pocket and began searching the lawn as closely as I could without going at it on all fours.
I had covered a couple of square yards of sod when the Leggetts' front door opened.
A woman came out on the broad stone top step and looked down at me with good-humored curiosity.
She was a woman of about my age, forty, with darkish blond hair, a pleasant plump face, and dimpled pink cheeks. She had on a lavender-flowered white housedress.
I stopped poking in the grass and went up to her, asking: "Is Mr. Leggett in?"
"Yes." Her voice was placid as her face. "You wish to see him?"
I said I did.
She smiled at me and at the lawn.
"You're another detective, aren't you?"
I admitted that.
She took me up to a green, orange, and chocolate room on the second floor, put me in a brocaded chair, and went to call her husband from his laboratory. While I waited, I looked around the room, deciding that the dull orange rug under my feet was probably both genuinely oriental and genuinely ancient, that the walnut furniture hadn't been ground out by machinery, and that the Japanese pictures on the wall hadn't been selected by a prude.
Edgar Leggett came in saying: "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, but I couldn't break off till now. Have you learned something?"
His voice was unexpectedly harsh, rasping, though his manner was friendly enough.