The Westing Game

by Ellen Raskin

The small, wiry man pointing to the house on the hill was Otis Amber, the sixty-two-year-old delivery boy.

Otis is a black man.

Someone (he could not tell if the person was a man or a woman) came out of the shadows on the lawn, unlocked the French doors, and disappeared into the Westing house. Someone with a limp. Minutes later smoke began to rise from the chimney.

It is not what you have, it’s what you don’t have that counts.

“Oh my, no. Angela reminds me of another young girl I made a wedding dress for: Violet Westing.”