The club rose snow Lieutenant Timothy Richards of the New York Homicide Bureau lounged in holiday idleness on the terrace of his sister Freda’s Connecticut home, watching a small scarlet plane buzz through the cloudless morning sky toward Poughkeepsie. Behind him, in the living room, he heard Freda’s voice as she picked up the ringing phone. “Oh, hello, Mrs. Green... A burlesque queen?... how perfectly terrible for you... no, I don’t blame you at all. And on the day of the rose show, too!...” Richards knew that the local garden club rose show was taking place at Mrs...