On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. ‘No sense in snooping about down here,’ Gerald whispered. Martin scrutinized Lucy more closely, but Lucy could tell that Michelle’s credibility had been damaged as her stifled sobs were heard upstairs. ” Obediently, Lucy placed the stone upon the mausoleum. Then blackness. “I suppose there’s no way of getting a decent income—independently.
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