Murder at Twin Pines

The Whistler. How the Whistler Strange Story. Murder at Twin Pine. From the porch of the old grey house on the hill, Victoria Crane peered through the low morning haze that hovered over the lake.

Watch the boats move slowly back and forth across the water. Then her eyes swept past the tiny village of Twin Pine, nestled on the lake front, came to rest on the figure of a man standing on the boat dock.

For several minutes, she watched Sheriff Tilton, so I must he tapped the ashes from his pipe and return it to his mouth. Then, thrusting his hands into his pockets, he started up the path toward her.

Somewhat nervously, Victoria's gaze shifted to the lake again, then back to the approaching figure. Presently, she heard the door behind her clothes, and her sister Meg came out onto the porch. Good morning, day. Oh, Meg. Sleep well? Mm-hmm. Like an infant.

Oh goodness, looks like we're gonna have another nice day. Hmm, yes it does. Sick. Mm-hmm. What's going on at the lake? What are all those folks doing out there? They're dragging the lake there. Dragging the lake?

What for? They think they'll find a body. What? A woman. She has things she may have been murdered. Oh, how horrible. So, what makes him think that? Well, not before last. Several people heard shots and somewhere out on the lake.

Now yesterday a robot was found drifting along the North Shore. Is that all they have to go on? No. This morning some boys saw on the woman's scars in the reed near the boat dock.

Vic, do they have any idea who the woman is? No. Did you breakfast here? Yeah, yes I've had breakfast. Meg, you know I've been thinking about that dress material we saw yesterday. I do believe we could get much better if we went up to San Francisco this week.