conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What could be a title for a book about Inspector, Witherspoon, Mrs with the genre: Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, Mystery?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: A title for this book could be 'Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight'
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the first five paragraphs for this book?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Mrs. Jeffries and the Silent Knight
  Lucinda Braxton, the oldest of Sir George Braxton's three daughters, shrugged her shoulders. "None of us have anything to do with the beast," she said. "And personally, I don't care if the stupid creature ever turns up. But I suspect it's in all our interests to make sure he does." She glanced at  
  Lucinda glared at her sister. The question sounded quite reasonable, but she knew Nina was being malicious in bringing Fiona into the conversation. "You know very well I haven't spoken to Fiona. I've no idea why she's even here. I certainly didn't invite her to spend Christmas with us."
  Lucinda felt a flush creep up her cheeks. She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself and keep her face from turning that mottled crimson color that was so unbecoming to a woman of her age. She cringed as she thought of her age. Forty-three wasn't really old, but then again, Fiona was only thirty-five.
  Lucinda's face turned beet-red, and she glared at her sister. "You're impossible," she cried as she stomped her foot. She charged for the door. "I don't know why I even bother speaking to either of you." She slammed the door hard as she left.
  Charlotte who'd opened her mouth to reply to him, thought better of it and clamped her lips shut. Finally, she said, "I'll see to it this afternoon."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is five more paragraphs? Start with the sentence 'Perplexed, the inspector stared at Barnes'.
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Perplexed, the inspector stared at Barnes. "When did you come out here? I was just in there a few minutes ago. I interviewed Clarence Clark."
  Witherspoon squatted next to Barnes and peered under the wooden table. There on the gray paving stone was a dried pool of dark red. A tiny mass of what looked like hair and tissue rested in the center of the stain. "Oh, dear, is this what I think it is?"
  Barnes stepped to one side to give Clark a better view. He also tucked the tiny bundle of tissue and hair neatly into his palm and out of sight.
  Clark knelt down and stared at the pavement. "It looks like a stain," he said irritably. "It's probably from one of my fertilizer mixtures. I do a lot of experimenting."
  Wiggins didn't have much time. He looked up and down the quiet Knightsbridge street, but he saw no one. Thank goodness it was still so cold—it kept people indoors. He found a handhold in the ivy that covered the wall, and in a few seconds he was up, over, and inside the communal garden of Luty's elegant house. He dodged behind a tree trunk and then stuck his head out, making sure there was no one outside. But his luck seemed to be holding, as the garden was empty save for a few birds that darted from tree branch to branch. He hurried toward Luty's house and then dodged behind another tree trunk when he got close. He looked up at the balcony protruding from the second floor. Those were Luty's rooms, but he had no way of getting up to them. He pulled out a pebble he'd stuck in his pocket earlier, took a deep breath, prayed that Luty was in her room, and took aim. He heard the pebble strike stone and knew he'd missed the window, so he tried again. This time, he heard the soft ping as the pebble hit the glass. He waited and waited and waited. Finally, when he was getting ready to try a third time, he heard a door open. But it was the door down here, the one that led from the kitchen to the garden. Blast a Spaniard, now he was done for, he turned, intending to sprint for the wall, when a soft voice hissed, "Wiggins? Is that you?"
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: What is the last five paragraphs?
conversations.from: assistant
conversations.value: Betsy suddenly stood up from the table. "Someone's coming." She ran down the back hall and threw open the door. "It's about time. What happened?"
  Wiggins laughed. "'Course you were right. He went a bit bonkers and tried to make a run for it. But he didn't get very far."
  Mrs. Jeffries had already told the Betsy and Mrs. Goodge who she suspected was guilty, she thought it only fair as the men were on the scene to see it happen, so to speak. "I wasn't sure I had," she admitted. "It was really the carolers that put the idea in my mind."
  Wiggins looked at Mrs. Jeffries with unabashed admiration. "Cor blimey," he said, "that does make sense. How'd you figure it out?"
  Later that evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Mrs. Jeffries came downstairs. Wiggins, who was slipping out of his hat and coat, whirled around as she came into the kitchen. "Cor blimey, you gave me a fright. Uh... I was... uh... just takin' a bit of air."