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Booked For Murder

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The light in the seatbelt sign died with an electronic bong. Lindsay waggled her fingers at the window and said, "Goodbye and good riddance." "You didn't enjoy your holiday?" Sophie asked. "Two trips to hospital? Scarred for life in two separate places? Temperatures higher than California and not a room that has air-conditioning from London to Loch Fyne? All the guns in America and I have to come to London to get shot?" Lindsay demanded, her voice rising to a squeak.