Angel's Grotto

Personal notice, stay just my stockin' trade. If the job's too tough for you to handle, you got a job for me, George Valentine. Full details. Standard Oil Company of California on behalf of independent chevron gas stations and standard stations throughout the West Invite you to... Let George do it!

Angel's Grotto, another adventure of George Valentine. Dear Mr. Valentine, you are fired. I know that's a clumsy way to put it, but I've been a nurse too many years to learn parlour diplomacy. Besides, you've been here at the Grotto farmhouse for almost a day now and you haven't found anything.

Not a single thing. Not that you should have. Perhaps I was just as terrible this morning when I called you out here. But now even the police seem to agree, don't they? Mr. Morag is death last evening.

Was an accident. Yes. An accident. And so much as I appreciate your coming to help. Why should you stay on? Sincerely Emily Flood. Oh my flood. Miss Flood. Yes, Mr. Valentine. Oh, here you are. We've been looking all over.

Did you get my nose? Yes, back at the house. But we wanted to... I don't like it back there. I came out here. Look, that's what I was a little surprised. After all, I've barely even had a chance to talk to you since we got here.

You see, there's very little factual evidence of any kind. Here. Did you check here? There might have been fingerprints on the handrail at my show. No, no, no, it checked all that. Best fingerprint man in the state found nothing to prove anything, not even on the wheelchair. No sign of the struggle.