I had a cigar in my mouth, I remember, as I pushed open the smoking-room door. The lights were not lit,which struck me as odd. I wondered if Scudder had turned in already.
I snapped the switch, but there was nobody there.Then I saw something in the far corner which made me drop my cigar and fall into a cold sweat.
My guest was lying sprawled on his back. There was a long knife through his heart which skewered him to the floor.