“Panting and out of breath all he can get out is, “Body! Body!” “Mr. Ingly? Slow down! What’s the matter?” “Dead body!” Ingly, still panting and out of breath, sits down heavily in one of the cushy lobby chairs. “Didn’t you hear me? There’s a dead man…lying on the sidewalk…just around the corner! Call the police! My dog is there. I couldn’t catch him!””
Book:Murder in Buckhead