Page 41 - Murder on the Dirigible

Murder on the Dirigible

know. Was it about you doing something dishonest to make the
airline look bad on the books?

MATTHEWS: Why—what kind of question is that?

MACALLISTER: Please. It’s very important.

METCALF: Well, what are you standing around for, Perkinson? I
can read for myself. Go back where you belong. (Perkinson returns)

MATTHEWS: Lucille, I don’t know how you found out, but Fisk
had it in for me. I may have made a few mistakes, but—

PERKINSON: Well, it was nice to stretch my legs for a minute.

MATTHEWS: Lucille, wait— (she returns to cabin, standing behind
Metcalf)

METCALF: Well, Mrs. Pomello, you’re right. Nothing of that nature
in here. But there’s another thing that’s bothering me: that golf tee.
Did Fisk play golf?

POMELLO: Yes.

METCALF: So he wasn’t totally surprised to find a tee on his seat.
Now, who else might be a golfer here?

OGLETHORPE: There you go again. I refuse to be made a victim
of your wild accusations, Metcalf. Lots of people play golf nowadays,
not just lawyers and university students.

METCALF: How about you, Mrs. Pomello?

POMELLO: Me? I couldn’t even get out of a sand trap. Oscar tried
to show me how to swing a club long ago, but I’d rather swing at a
club, if you know what I mean. (MacAllister flinches)

METCALF: And you, Herr Gross?

GROSS: For such silly games I have no time.

40