Page 39 - Murder on the Dirigible

Murder on the Dirigible

OGLETHORPE: What are you so upset about, Lucille? Don’t you
see this guy is trying to put a noose around my neck? You don’t think
I did it, do you?

MACALLISTER: It doesn’t matter what I think.

METCALF: If I might interrupt your cozy little chat, I’d like to get
on with this. Miss Peabody! (she looks up) Did you kill Wendell Fisk?

PEABODY: Evil must be destroyed! I have smashed many
thousands of bottles of evil; I have been in the presence of
Satan many times. I knew he was on this airship.

METCALF: But did you know where?

PEABODY: No. But if I had known that man was a bootlegger—

METCALF: Yeah, yeah, I get it, lady. You would have torn him apart
with your bare hands. But beside this avenging angel, someone else
must have really had it in for Fisk. Someone who didn’t want him to
reach San Francisco alive. It’s one of you: now, which one?

POMELLO: If we confess, will you shut up for the rest of the trip?

METCALF: All right, Mrs. Pomello. You asked for it. Now you are
going to tell us why this meeting you and Fisk were planning to
attend was so important.

POMELLO: Go to hell.

METCALF: If that’s how you feel about it, I can make things very
uncomfortable for you. I don’t even have to wait until we land: where
is that bottle you’ve been nursing? (goes toward galley) I think it
should be confiscated.

POMELLO: Hey, stop that! (grabs his arm) I only drink for my
health.

METCALF: Don’t make me laugh: my lips are chapped.

POMELLO: Okay, okay: you win. (Metcalf stops next to her chair) It
will all come out in the end, anyway. Fisk knew more about my
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