His obtuse hands punched and jabbed at her uselessly, then he throttled her neck with the last of his strength. She gaped at its keep, at least ten feet tall, a frightening gray coffin turned upright. She opened her suitcase—new and smelling strongly of leather—and took out of it a book, dogeared and precariously held together, bound in faded blue cloth and bearing the inscription: The Universal Handbook. Finally Lucy replied. She could think of nothing more to say. “Hainault was Celeste’s friend, and Celeste was Annabel’s enemy,” Courtlaw said.
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