Esquimaux

 In Dorothy L. Sayers' novel, Unnatural Death, we find the term Esquimaux used by lead character Lord Peter Wimsey. Since the term is pronounced "Eskimos," we can easily determine its meaning. Why Wimsey chooses to use the French spelling is not explained.

Those handy poisons

     "Warned by his minions - " prompted Parker.

    "Oh, yes - warned by his minions that Miss Dawson is hob-nobbing with solicitors and being tempted into making wills and things, gets the said minions to polish her off before she can do any mischief."

    "Yes, but how?"

    "Oh, by one of those native poisons which slay in a split second and defy the skill of the analyst. They are familiar to the meanest writer of mystery stories. I'm not going to let a trifle like that stand in my way."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

How can you tell a story if people keep interrupting?

     "What a blow for friend Carr, too. I did hope that I was going to vindicate him and have him played home by the village band under a triumphal arch with 'Welcome home, Champion of Truth!' picked out in red-white-and-blue electric blubs. Never mind. It's better to lose a wager and see the light than walk in ignorance bloated with gold - Or stop! - why shouldn't Carr be right after all? Perhaps it's just my choice of a murderer that's wrong. Aha! I see a new and even more sinister villain step upon the scene. The new claimant, warned by his minions - "

    "What minions?"

    "Oh, don't be so pernickety, Charles. Nurse Forbes, probably. I shouldn't wonder if she's in his pay. Where was I? I wish you wouldn't interrupt."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

And speaking of Tennyson

 The title is still alive. The current Baron is the 6th, the great-great-grandson of the poet, and their is an heir presumptive, so it appears the title will live on for at least another generation.

Bunter is human after all

     "Any luck?" inquired Wimsey.

    "I regret exceedingly to have to inform your lordship that I lost track of the lady. In fact, if your lordship will kindly excuse the expression, I was completely done in the eye."

    "Thank God, Bunter, you're human after all. I didn't know anybody could do you. Have a drink."

    "I am much obliged to your lordship. According to instructions, I searched the platform for a lady in a crimson hat and a grey fur, and at length was fortunate enough to observe her making her way out by the station entrance towards the big bookstall. She was some way ahead of me, but the hat was very conspicuous, and, in the words of the poet, if I may so express myself, I followed the gleam."

    "Stout fellow."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

[The poet mentioned is Alfred, Lord Tennyson, who used the expression in his poem, Merlin and the Gleam.]

Give the crooks the big head

     "I observe in today's paper," said Mr. Murbles, "that the local superintendent is now satisfied that Miss Gotobed came down alone for a quiet picnic and died of a heart attack."

    "That man would say anything," said Wimsey. "We know from the post-mortem that she had recently had a heavy meal - forgive these distressin' details, Mrs. Cropper - so why the picnic?"

    "I suppose they had the sandwiches and the beer-bottle in mind," said Mr. Murbles, mildly.

    "I see. I suppose she went down to Epping alone with a bottle of Bass and took out the cork with her fingers. Ever tried doing it, Murbles? No? Well, when they find the corkscrew I'll believe she went there alone. In the meantime, I hope the papers will publish a few more theories like that. Nothin' like inspiring criminals with confidence, Murbles - it goes to their heads, you know."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

Of the old school

     "Your friend's going to be left behind," said Mrs. Cropper as the train moved out.

    "That would be very unlike him," replied Mr. Murbles, calmly unfolding a couple of rugs and exchanging his old-fashioned top-hat for a curious kind of travelling cap with flaps to it. Mrs. Cropper, in the midst of her anxiety, could not help wondering where in the world he had contrived to purchase this Victorian relic. As a matter of fact, Mr. Murbles' caps were specially made to his own design by an exceedingly expensive West End hatter, who a held Mr. Murbles in deep respect as a real gentleman of the old school.

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

REALLY kissin' cousins

 "Miss Murgatroyd was so very impressed by your sympathetic way - don't you know - of nursin' that poor old lady, Miss Dawson y'know. Distant connection of my own, as a matter of fact - er, yes - somewhere about fifteenth cousin twelve times removed."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

Bornean bearded pig

 I have some relatives who look a little like this.

The hat makes the man

     Lord Peter hung up, whistling cheerfully, and called for Bunter.

    "My Lord?"

    "What is the proper suit to put on, Bunter, when one is an expectant father?"

    "I regret, my lord, to have seen no recent fashions in paternity wear. I should say, my lord, whichever suit your lordship fancies will induce a calm and cheerful frame of mind in the lady."

    "Unfortunately I don't know the lady. She is, in fact, only the figment of an over-teeming brain. But I think the garments should express bright hope, self-congratulations, and a tinge of tender anxiety."

    "A newly married situation, my lord, I take it. Then I would suggest the lounge suit in pale grey - the willow-pussy cloth, my lord - with a dull amethyst tie and socks and a soft hat. I would not recommend a bowler, my lord. The anxiety expressed in a bowler hat would be rather of the financial kind."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

How to commit murder

     "But they were caught."

    "Because they were fools. If you murder someone in a brutal, messy way, or poison someone who has previously enjoyed rollicking health, or choose the very day after a will's been made in your favour to extinguish the testator, or go on killing everyone you meet till people begin to think you're first cousin to a upas tree, naturally you're found out in the end. But choose somebody old and ill, in circumstances where the benefit to yourself isn't too apparent, and use a sensible method that looks like natural death or accident, and don't repeat your effects too often, and you're safe. I swear all the heart-diseases and gastric enteritis and influenzas that get certified are not nature's unaided work."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

[The upas tree is an evergreen of southern and southeast Asia whose latex contains highly toxic compounds and is used for poison arrows and darts.]

Might make a good one yet

     "What do you think I found in the wash-stand drawer?"

    "What?"

    "A hypodermic syringe!"

    "Really?"

    "Oh, yes and an innocent little box of ampullae with a doctor's prescription headed, 'The injection, Mrs. Forrest. One to be injected when the pain is very severe.' What do you think of that?"

    "Tell you when we've got the results of that post-mortem," said Parker, really impressed. "You didn't bring the prescription, I suppose?"

    "No, and I didn't inform the lady who we were or what we were after or ask her permission to carry away the family crystal. But I made a note of the chemist's address."

    "Did you?" ejaculated Parker. "Occasionally, my lad, you have some glimmerings of sound detective sense."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

    

Two maggots

     "Yes, I've got a new theory of the crime, which knocks yours into a cocked hat. I've got evidence to support it, too."

    "Which crime, by the way?"

    "Oh, the Epping Forest business. I don't believe the old Dawson person was murdered at all. That's just an idea of yours."

    "I see. And you're now going to tell me that Bertha Gotobed was got hold of by the White Slave people."

    "How did you know?" asked Parker, a little peevishly.

    "Because Scotland Yard have two maggots which crop up whenever anything happens to a young woman. Either it's White Slavery or Dope Dens - sometimes both. You are going to say it's both."

    "Well, I was, as a matter of fact. It so often is, you know."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

Missed the quote a little

     "Did she and her sister come to you together?"

    "They did. They come to me when they was lookin' for work in London. And they could a' fallen into a deal worse hands I can tell you, two young things from the country, and them that fresh and pretty looking."

    "They certainly were uncommonly lucky, I'm sure, Mrs. Gulliver," said Lord Peter, "and they must have found it a great comfort to be able to confide in you and get your good advice."

    "Well, I think they did," said Mrs. Gulliver, "not that young people nowadays seems to want much guidance from them as is older. Train up a child and away she go, as the Good Book says."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

Not all gourmets are wealthy

     "Tell me ow it comes that your little waitress and her railway clerk come down to Epping Forest to regale themselves on sandwiches made from coal-black, treacle-cured Bradenham ham, which long ago ran as a young wild boar about these woodlands, till death translated it to an incorruptible and more glorious body? I may add that it costs about 3s. a pound uncooked = and argument which you will allow to be weighty."

    "That's odd, certainly," said Parker. "I imagine that only rich people - "

    "Only rich people or people who understand eating as a fine art," said Wimsey. "The two are by no means identical, though they occasionally overlap."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

Like a bee

     "Excuse me, I'm sure, but you're in request this afternoon, Philliter. Here's Dr. Carr come for you."

    Dr. Carr followed hard upon his name. The sight of Wimsey struck him speechless.

    "I told you I'd be turnin' up again before long," said Lord Peter, cheerfully. "Sherlock is my name and Holmes is my nature. I'm delighted to see you, Dr. Carr. Your little matter is well in hand, and seein' I'm not required any longer I'll make a noise like a bee and buzz off."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

Meet Miss Climpson

     "She is my ears and tongue," said Lord Peter, dramatically, "and especially my nose. She asks questions which a young man could not put without a blush. She is the angel that rushes in where fools get a clump on the head. She can smell a rat in the dark. In fact, she is the cat's whiskers."

    "Not a bad idea," said Parker.

    "Naturally - it was mine, therefore brilliant. Just think. People want questions asked. Whom do they send? A man with large flat feet and a notebook - the sort of man whose private life is conducted in a series of inarticulate grunts. I send a lady with a long, woolly jumper on knitting-needles and jingly things round her neck. Of course she asks questions - everyone expects it. Nobody is surprised. Nobody is alarmed. And so-called superfluity is agreeable and usefully disposed of. One of these days they will put up a statue to me, with an inscription: 'To the man who made thousands of superfluous women happy without injury to their modesty or exertion to himself.'"

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

A detective's face

     "I think you must be Lord Peter Wimsey. I wondered why your face was so familiar, but of course it was all in the papers a few years ago when you disentangled the Riddlesdale Mystery."

    "Quite right. It's a silly kind of face, of course, but rather disarming, don't you think? I don't know that I'd have chosen it, but I do my best with it. I do hope it isn't contracting a sleuth-like expression, or anything unpleasant. This is the real sleuth - my friend Detective-Inspector Parker of Scotland Yard. He's the one who really does the work. I make imbecile suggestions and he does the work of elaborately disproving them."

(from Unnatural Death, by Dorothy L. Sayers)

A noble sleuth

     In 1921 came the business of the Attenbury Emeralds. That affair has never been written up, but it made a good deal of noise, even at that noisiest of periods. The trial of the thief was a series of red-hot sensations, and the biggest sensation of the bunch was when Lord Peter Wimsey walked into the witness-box for the prosecution.

    That was notoriety with a vengeance. Actually, to an experienced intelligence officer, I don't suppose the investigation had offered any great difficulties: but a "noble sleuth" was something new in thrills. Denver was furious; personally, I didn't mind what Peter did, provided he did something. I thought he seemed happier for the work, and I liked the Scotland Yard man he had picked up during the run of the case. Charles Parker is a quiet, sensible, well-bred fellow, and had been a good friend and brother-in-law to Peter. He has the valuable quality of being fond of people without wanting to turn them inside out.

(from the Biographical Note to Unnatural Death, by Dorothy Sayers)

The old telephone trick

It was possible to hear the faintest whir of the dial, he knew, but he couldn't accept the probability that Harsh could discern the number he dialed. He had often heard rumors of smart operators who claimed to be able to recognize a number by counting the clicks, but he had yet to meet such a man. He had, in fact, wasted several weeks when he was much younger trying to train himself to do the trick, and had given up in disgust. No, Harsh could not have learned Lucy's number that way.

(from This Is It, Michael Shayne, by Brett Halliday)

Odd disappointment

     Sara Morton lay at the foot of a twin bed that had a rumpled spread and a knotted pillow. There was an ugly gash in her throat and blood stained the rich carpeting around a shaggy, soaked white rug under her head and shoulders.

    Shayne's first reaction was, oddly, one of numbing disappointment, for now he would never really know what sort of a person Sara Morton had been.

(from This Is It, Michael Shayne, by Brett Halliday)

Determined young lady

 "Sara Morton is the type to play fair by giving a man-eating tiger the first two bites," Rourke interrupted grimly. "She's the gal who broke into the big-time years ago by becoming the moll of one of Capone's original mob to get an exclusive."

(from This Is It, Michael Shayne, by Brett Halliday)

Scurvy grass

 "I found patches of scurvy grass, known as useful in preventing scurvy." (from Sackett's Land, by Louis L'Amour)

Scurvy grass (sometimes called spoonwort) is a genus of herbs that are rich in vitamin C. What limes did for British sailors, scurvy grass evidently did for some landlubbers.

He makes his own tombstone

 Taking a sight upon a tree, I marked the place for memory, but in the morning, when there was light enough, I carved a name on a slab and placed it there. I knew not the day of his birth, but gave that of his death. His name, too, I placed there, although the place a man leaves is in the hearts of those he leaves behind, and in his work, not upon a slab.

(from Sackett's Land, by Louis L'Amour)

A man of action

 I would not sit waiting for some vague tomorrow, nor for something to happen. One could wait a lifetime, and find nothing at the end of the waiting. I would begin here, I would make something happen.

(from Sackett's Land, by Louis L'Amour)