His kind had put the bullet in Karolides.
The plump man's features seemed to dislimn, and form again, as I looked at them.

He hadn't a face, only a hundred masks that he could assume when he pleased.

That chap must have been a superb actor.

Perhaps he had been Lord Alloa of the night before; perhaps not; it didn't matter.
I wondered if he was the fellow who had first tracked Scudder, and left his card on him.

Scudder had said he lisped, and I could imagine how the adoption of a lisp might add terror.
But the old man was the pick of the lot.