The Detective Novels on Arthur's Classic Novels

Arthur's Classic Novels: Complete Detective Fiction Writers

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Achmed Abdullah

The Thief of Bagdad by Achmed Abdullah
In the Orient's motley, twisted annals the tale of Ahmed el-Bagdadi's -- "the Thief of Bagdad," as he is called in the ancient records -- search for happiness, which is by the same token the tale of his adventures and exploits and love, has assumed in the course of time the character of something Homeric

The Mystery of the Talking Idols by Achmed Abdullah
AFRICA was about them: a black, fetid hand giving riotously of gold and treasure, maiming and squeezing even while it gave. They loathed and feared it.

Fear by Achmed Abdullah
But here, in the African jungle -- and how Stuart McGregor remembered it -- the fear of death had seemed pregnant with unmentionable horror. There had been no sounds except the buzzing of the tsetse flies and a faint rubbing of drums

Fear and Other Stories by Achmed Abdullah

The Charmed Life by Achmed Abdullah
Magazine readers want to be entertained -- that's what they plunk down their little dimes for -- and take them all around, they prefer a story which is full of action, of things daring, with some love and a fair dose of adventure thrown in, and yet, as you put it, they do not want their credulity strained to the breaking point.

Earl Derr Biggers

The Agony Column by Earl Derr Biggers
About the soda-water bar in the drug store near the Hotel Cecil many American tourists found solace in the sirups and creams of home. Through the open windows of the Piccadilly tea shops you might catch glimpses of the English consuming quarts of hot tea in order to become cool. It is a paradox they swear by.

Fifty Candles by Earl Derr Biggers
If the certificate spoke the truth, then Chang See must be regarded as an American citizen and freely admitted to Honolulu with no wearisome chatter about the Chinese Exclusion Act. But the inspector at the port had been made wary by long service.

Seven Keys to Baldpate by Earl Derr Biggers
The girl's trim shoulders no longer heaved so unhappily. Mr. Magee, approaching, thought himself again in the college yard at dusk, with the great elms sighing overhead

Keeper of the Keys by Earl Derr Biggers

The House Without a Key by Earl Derr Biggers

The Chinese Parrot by Earl Derr Biggers

The Black Camel by Earl Derr Biggers

Behind That Curtain by Earl Derr Biggers

Ernest Bramah

The Wallet of Kai Lung by Ernest Bramah
No person of consequence ever made the journey unattended; but Kai Lung professed to have no fear, remarking with extempore wisdom, when warned at the previous village, that a worthless garment covered one with better protection than that afforded by an army of bowmen.

Kai Lung's Golden Hours by Ernest Bramah
Kai Lung cast himself down in refuge from the noontide sun and slept. When he woke it was with the sound of discreet laughter trickling through his dreams. He sat up and looked around. Across the glade two maidens stood in poised expectancy within the shadow of a wild fig-tree

The Mirror of Kong Ho by Ernest Bramah
Having at length reached the summit of my journey, that London of which the merchants from Canton spoke so many strange and incredible things, I now send you filial salutations three times increased, and in accordance with your explicit command I shall write all things to you with an unvarnished brush,

Max Carrados Mysteries by Ernest Bramah
"Millicent married Creake after a very short engagement. It was a frightfully subdued wedding - more like a funeral to me. The man professed to have no relations and apparently he had scarcely any friends or business acquaintances.

John Buchan

The Thirty-Nine Steps
I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old Country, and was fed up with it. If anyone had told me a year ago that I would have been feeling like that I should have laughed at him; but there was the fact.

Greenmantle
I had just finished breakfast and was filling my pipe when I got Bullivant's telegram. It was at Furling, the big country house in Hampshire where I had come to convalesce after Loos, and Sandy, who was in the same case, was hunting for the marmalade. I flung him the flimsy with the blue strip pasted down on it, and he whistled.

Mr Standfast by John Buchan
I spent one-third of my journey looking out of the window of a first-class carriage, the next in a local motor-car following the course of a trout stream in a shallow valley, and the last tramping over a ridge of downland through great beech-woods to my quarters for the night. In the first part I was in an infamous temper; in the second I was worried and mystified; but the cool twilight of the third stage calmed and heartened me

The Moon Endureth  Tales and Fancies by John Buchan
...I came down from the mountain and into the pleasing valley of the Adige in as pelting a heat as ever mortal suffered under. The way underfoot was parched and white; I had newly come out of a wilderness of white limestone crags, and a sun of Italy blazed blindingly in an azure Italian sky.

Prester John
I mind as if it were yesterday my first sight of the man. Little I knew at the time how big the moment was with destiny, or how often that face seen in the fitful moonlight would haunt my sleep and disturb my waking hours.

The Three Hostages
That evening, I remember, as I came up through the Mill Meadow, I was feeling peculiarly happy and contented. It was still mid-March, one of those spring days when noon is like May, and only the cold pearly haze at sunset warns a man that he is not done with winter.

The Path of the King
As he grew older he was allowed to sit with the men in the hall, when bows were being stretched and bowstrings knotted and spear-hafts fitted. He would sit mum in a corner, listening with both ears to the talk of the old franklins, with their endless grumbles about lost cattle and ill neighbours.

The Power House by John Buchan
I had been the looker-on; now I was to become a person of the drama. That telegram was the beginning of my active part in this curious affair. They say that everybody turns up in time at the corner of Piccadilly Circus if you wait long enough. I was to find myself like a citizen of Baghdad in the days of the great Caliph, and yet never stir from my routine of flat, chambers, club, flat.

The Rime Of True Thomas
The whaup gave a whistle of scorn. "I have heard all that long ago. In my great-grandmother's time, which 'ill be a thousand years and mair syne, there came a people from the south with bright brass things on their heads and breasts, and terrible swords at their thighs. And with them were some lang-gowned men who kenned the stars and would come out nights to talk to the deer and the corbies in their ain tongue.

Witch Wood
David ranged around like a boy back from school, and indeed with his thick sandy hair and ruddy countenance and slim straight back he seemed scarcely to have outgrown the schoolboy.

Huntingtower
Her voice had a thrill in it like music, frosty music. "The days are far too short. I grudge the hours when I must sleep. They say it is sad for me to make my debut in a time of war.

Space by John Buchan
There was a shimmer left from the day's heat, which invested bracken and rock and scree with a curious airy unreality. One could almost have believed that the eye had tricked the mind, that all was mirage, that five yards from the path the solid earth fell away into nothingness.

A Prince of the Captivity

The Blanket of the Dark

Sick Heart River

The Gap in the Curtain

Castle Gay

The Runagates Club

The House of Four Winds

Midwinter

The Dancing Floor

Raymond Chandler

Farewell My Lovely    by Raymond Chandler

Playback    by Raymond Chandler

The Big Sleep    by Raymond Chandler

The High Window    by Raymond Chandler

The Lady in the Lake    by Raymond Chandler

The Little Sister    by Raymond Chandler

The Long Goodbye    by Raymond Chandler

The Simple Art of Murder    by Raymond Chandler

Trouble is My Business    by Raymond Chandler

G.K. Chesterton

The Man Who Was Thursday by G. K. Chesterton
It was not by any means the only evening of which he was the hero. On many nights those passing by his little back garden might hear his high, didactic voice laying down the law to men and particularly to women.

The Club of Queer Trades by G.K.Chesterton
There is something entirely Gargantuan in the idea of economising space by piling houses on top of each other, front doors and all. And in the chaos and complexity of those perpendicular streets anything may dwell or happen, and it is in one of them, I believe, that the inquirer may find the offices of the Club of Queer Trades.

The Everlasting Man by G.K. Chesterton

The Man Who Knew Too Much by G.K. Chesterton

The Trees of Pride by G.K. Chesterton

The Napoleon of Notting Hill by G.K. Chesterton

The Paradoxes of Mr Pond by G.K. Chesterton

Four Faultless Felons by G.K. Chesterton

The Secret of Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton

The Scandal of Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton

The Incredulity of Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton

Tales of the Long Bow by G.K. Chesterton

St. Thomas Aquinas by G.K. Chesterton

Agatha Christie

The Mysterious Affair at Styles by Agatha Christie
"Well, of course the war has turned the hundreds into thousands. No doubt the fellow was very useful to her. But you could have knocked us all down with a feather when, three months ago, she suddenly announced that she and Alfred were engaged! The fellow must be at least twenty years younger than she is! It's simply bare-faced fortune hunting;

Cards on the Table    by Agatha Christie

Evil Under the Sun    by Agatha Christie

Five Little Pigs    by Agatha Christie

Hercule Poirot's Christmas    by Agatha Christie

Lord Edgware Dies    by Agatha Christie

Murder in Mesopotamia    by Agatha Christie

Murder on the Orient Express    by Agatha Christie

Peril at End House    by Agatha Christie

Poirot Investigates    by Agatha Christie

Poirot's Early Cases    by Agatha Christie

Sad Cypress    by Agatha Christie

The Labours of Hercules    by Agatha Christie

The Murder of Roger Ackroyd    by Agatha Christie

The Mystery of the Blue Train    by Agatha Christie

The Secret Adversary Agatha Christie
A man's voice beside her made her start and turn. She had noticed the speaker more than once amongst the first-class passengers. There had been a hint of mystery about him which had appealed to her imagination. He spoke to no one. If anyone spoke to him he was quick to rebuff the overture. Also he had a nervous way of looking over his shoulder with a swift, suspicious glance.

Wilkie Collins

Antonina
Standing upon the path which armies had once trodden, and which armies were still destined to tread, and looking toward the solitary lake, you heard, at first, no sound but the regular dripping of the raindrops from rock to rock; you saw no prospect but the motionless waters at your feet, and the dusky crags which shadowed them from above.

The Woman in White
I did my best to stop the torrent of his tears and protestations by persisting in treating the whole adventure as a good subject for a joke; and succeeded at last, as I imagined, in lessening Pesca's overwhelming sense of obligation to me. Little did I think then--little did I think afterwards when our pleasant holiday had drawn to an end--that the opportunity of serving me for which my grateful companion so ardently longed was soon to come;

The Moonstone
There can be no doubt that this strange family story of ours ought to be told. And I think, Betteredge, Mr. Bruff and I together have hit on the right way of telling it.

Basil
Brighter and brighter shines out the lusty sun from banks of purple, rainy cloud; fishermen are spreading their nets to dry on the lower declivities of the rocks; children are playing round the boats drawn up on the beach; the sea-breeze blows fresh and pure towards the shore

The Dead Secret
She stood for an instant speechless, on that momentous morning of the twenty-third of August, before the servant who summoned her to her mistress's death-bed -- the light of the candle flaring brightly over her large, startled, black eyes, and the luxuriant, unnatural gray hair above them.

Hide And Seek
No living being moved over the watery pavement, save the solitary Snoxell. He plodded on into a Crescent, and still the awful Sunday solitude spread grimly humid all around him.

The Fallen Leaves
Travelling by sea will make you sick--it makes me sick. If you want change of air, every sort of air is to be found in the City. If you admire the beauties of Nature, there is Finsbury Square with the beauties of Nature carefully selected and arranged.

My Lady's Money
His father had failed at a time of commercial panic as a country banker, had paid a good dividend, and had died in exile abroad a broken-hearted man. Robert had tried to hold his place in the world, but adverse fortune kept him down.

The Law and the Lady
Even then, in the days of my ignorance and my innocence, that curious outbreak of my aunt's superstition produced a certain uneasy sensation in my mind. It was a consolation to me to feel the reassuring pressure of my husband's hand. It was an indescribable relief to hear my uncle's hearty voice wishing me a happy life at parting.

Arthur Conan Doyle

The Hound of the Baskervilles
Mr. Sherlock Holmes, who was usually very late in the mornings, save upon those not infrequent occasions when he was up all night, was seated at the breakfast table. I stood upon the hearth-rug and picked up the stick which our visitor had left behind him the night before.

The Adventure of The Devil's Foot
In recording from time to time some of the curious experiences and interesting recollections which I associate with my long and intimate friendship with Mr. Sherlock Holmes, I have continually been faced by difficulties caused by his own aversion to publicity. To his sombre and cynical spirit all popular applause was always abhorrent, and nothing amused him more at the end of a successful case than to hand over the actual exposure to some orthodox official, and to listen with a mocking smile to the general chorus of misplaced congratulation.

The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes
To Sherlock Holmes she is always The woman. I have seldom heard him mention her under any other name. In his eyes she eclipses and predominates the whole of her sex. It was not that he felt any emotion akin to love for Irene Adler. All emotions, and that one particularly, were abhorrent to his cold, precise but admirably balanced mind. He was, I take it, the most perfect reasoning and observing machine that the world has seen, but as a lover he would have placed himself in a false position.

A Study In Scarlet
"That's a strange thing," remarked my companion; "you are the second man to-day that has used that expression to me."
"And who was the first?" I asked.
"A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which were too much for his purse."

The Adventure of the Beryl Coronet
One night--it was on the twentieth of March, 1888--I was returning from a journey to a patient ... , when my way led me through Baker Street. As I passed the well-remembered door, which must always be associated in my mind with my wooing, and with the dark incidents of the Study in Scarlet, I was seized with a keen desire to see Holmes again, and to know how he was employing his extraordinary powers. His rooms were brilliantly lit, and, even as I looked up, I saw his tall, spare figure pass twice in a dark silhouette against the blind.

The Adventures of Gerard
I hope that some readers may possibly be interested in these little tales of the Napoleonic soldiers to the extent of following them up to the springs from which they flow. The age was rich in military material, some of it the most human and the most picturesque that I have ever read. Setting aside historical works or the biographies of the leaders there is a mass of evidence written by the actual fighting men themselves,

Beyond the City
Terrified as they were by this sudden torrent of words, the two gentlewomen could not but smile at the sight of the fiery, domineering victim and the big apologetic representative of mankind who sat meekly bearing all the sins of his sex. The lady struck a match, whipped a cigarette from a case upon the mantelpiece, and began to draw the smoke into her lungs.

The Doings Of Raffles Haw
Robert McIntyre rose from the sketch upon which he had been working, and taking one of the lamps in his hand peered out into the darkness. The long skeleton limbs of the bare trees tossed and quivered dimly

Micah Clarke
The first of these occurred when I was so young that I can remember neither what went before nor what immediately after it. It stuck in my infant mind when other things slipped through it.

The Adventure of the Cardboard Box
"You are right, Watson," said he. "It does seem a most preposterous way of settling a dispute."

The Mystery of Cloomber
Branksome might have appeared a poor dwelling-place when compared with the house of an English squire, but to us, after our long residence in stuffy apartments, it was of regal magnificence.

Adventure of the Bruce-Partington Plans
In the third week of November, in the year 1895, a dense yellow fog settled down upon London. From the Monday to the Thursday I doubt whether it was ever possible from our windows in Baker Street to see the loom of the opposite houses.

The Last Galley Impressions and Tales
Seen from afar it was a stately and beautiful vessel, deep red in colour, double-banked with scarlet oars, its broad, flapping sail stained with Tyrian purple

The Firm Of Girdlestone
He paused, and the three culprits were beginning to cool down and congratulate themselves, when he began again.

The Tragedy of The Korosko
Everywhere one sees traces of vanished races and submerged civilisations. Grotesque graves dot the hills or stand up against the sky-line:

The Great Shadow
There was one queer thing about the house of West Inch. It has been reckoned by engineers and other knowing folk that the boundary line between the two countries ran right through the middle of it

Captain of the Polestar
This morning I saw a star twinkling just over the fore-yard, the first since the beginning of May. There is considerable discontent among the crew, many of whom are anxious to get back home to be in time for the herring season, when labour always commands a high price upon the Scotch coast. As yet their displeasure is only signified by sullen countenances and black looks, but I heard from the second mate this afternoon that they contemplated sending a deputation to the Captain to explain their grievance.

Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
I was not surprised. Indeed, my only wonder was that he had not already been mixed upon this extraordinary case, which was the one topic of conversation through the length and breadth of England. For a whole day my companion had rambled about the room with his chin upon his chest and his brows knitted, charging and recharging his pipe with the strongest black tobacco,

The Return of Sherlock Holmes
Only now, at the end of nearly ten years, am I allowed to supply those missing links which make up the whole of that remarkable chain. The crime was of interest in itself, but that interest was as nothing to me compared to the inconceivable sequel, which afforded me the greatest shock and surprise of any event in my adventurous life.

The Stark Munro Letters
If I hadn't been a fool, Bertie, I should never have consented. It's one of my many weaknesses, that, whether it's a woman or a man, anything like a challenge sets me off. But I knew Cullingworth's ways, and I told you in my last what a lamb of a temper he has. None the less, we pushed back the table, put the lamp on a high bracket, and stood up to one another.

A Study In Scarlet
"Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?" he asked in undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets. "You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut."

The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax
"But why Turkish?" asked Mr. Sherlock Holmes, gazing fixedly at my boots. I was reclining in a cane-backed chair at the moment, and my protruded feet had attracted his ever-active attention.
"English," I answered in some surprise. "I got them at Latimer's, in Oxford Street."
Holmes smiled with an expression of weary patience.

Sign of the Four
Sherlock Holmes took his bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece and his hypodermic syringe from its neat morocco case. With his long, white, nervous fingers he adjusted the delicate needle, and rolled back his left shirt-cuff. For some little time his eyes rested thoughtfully upon the sinewy forearm and wrist all dotted and scarred with innumerable puncture-marks. Finally he thrust the sharp point home, pressed down the tiny piston, and sank back into the velvet-lined arm-chair with a long sigh of satisfaction.

The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge
I find it recorded in my notebook that it was a bleak and windy day towards the end of March in the year 1892. Holmes had received a telegram while we sat at our lunch, and he had scribbled a reply. He made no remark, but the matter remained in his thoughts, for he stood in front of the fire afterwards with a thoughtful face, smoking his pipe, and casting an occasional glance at the message. Suddenly he turned upon me with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

The Adventure of the Dying Detective
Mrs. Hudson, the landlady of Sherlock Holmes, was a long-suffering woman. Not only was her first-floor flat invaded at all hours by throngs of singular and often undesirable characters but her remarkable lodger showed an eccentricity and irregularity in his life which must have sorely tried her patience. His incredible untidiness, his addiction to music at strange hours, his occasional revolver practice within doors, his weird and often malodorous scientific experiments, and the atmosphere of violence and danger which hung around him made him the very worst tenant in London. On the other hand, his payments were princely. I have no doubt that the house might have been purchased at the price which Holmes paid for his rooms during the years that I was with him.

Tales of Terror and Mystery
"It was the disappearance of the airmen that first set me thinking. Of course, everyone said that they had fallen into the sea, but that did not satisfy me at all. First, there was Verrier in France; his machine was found near Bayonne, but they never got his body. There was the case of Baxter also, who vanished, though his engine and some of the iron fixings were found in a wood in Leicestershire.

The Vital Message
When a man has taken hashish or certain other drugs, he not infrequently has the experience that he is standing or floating beside his own body, which he can see stretched senseless upon the couch. So also under anaesthetics, particularly under laughing gas, many people are conscious of a detachment from their bodies,

Round The Red Lamp
My first interview with Dr. James Winter was under dramatic circumstances. It occurred at two in the morning in the bedroom of an old country house. I kicked him twice on the white waistcoat and knocked off his gold spectacles, while he with the aid of a female accomplice stifled my angry cries in a flannel petticoat and thrust me into a warm bath.

The Parasite
What a fellow Wilson is! If I could only throw the same enthusiasm into physiology that he does into psychology, I should become a Claude Bernard at the least. His whole life and soul and energy work to one end. He drops to sleep collating his results of the past day, and he wakes to plan his researches for the coming one.

Uncle Bernac
I DARE say that I had already read my uncle's letter a hundred times, and I am sure that I knew it by heart. None the less I took it out of my pocket, and, sitting on the side of the lugger

The Case Book of Sherlock Holmes
Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish bath. It was over a smoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found him less reticent and more human than anywhere else.

When The World Screamed
I HAD a vague recollection of having heard my friend Edward Malone, of the Gazette, speak of Professor Challenger, with whom he had been associated in some remarkable adventures

The Land of Mist
But he was losing something of his fire. Those huge shoulders were a little bowed. The spade-shaped Assyrian beard showed tangles of grey amid the black, his eyes were a trifle less aggressive, his smile less self-complacent, his voice as monstrous as ever but less ready to roar down all opposition

The Disintegration Machine
'Yes, I say it is the second wrong call. The second in one morning. Do you imagine that a man of science is to be distracted from essential work by the constant interference of some idiot at the end of a wire? I will not have it. Send this instant for the manager. Oh! you are the manager. Well, why don't you manage?

The Poison Belt
It is imperative that now at once, while these stupendous events are still clear in my mind, I should set them down with that exactness of detail which time may blur. But even as I do so, I am overwhelmed by the wonder of the fact that it should be our little group of the "Lost World" -- Professor Challenger

A Foreign Office Romance
There was his story of Talleyrand and the five oyster-shells, and there was his utterly absurd account of Napoleon's second visit to Ajaccio. Then there was that most circumstantial romance (which he never ventured upon until his second bottle had been uncorked) of the Emperor's escape from St. Helena

Rodney Stone
The sporting gentlemen of those days were very fine boxers for the most part, for it was the mode to take a course of Mendoza, just as a few years afterwards there was no man about town who had not had the mufflers on with Jackson.

The Refugees
She was very young, twenty at the most, with a face which was pale, indeed, and yet of a brilliant pallor, which was so clear and fresh, and carried with it such a suggestion of purity and innocence

The Leather Funnel
I had known Dacre in England, for my researches in the Assyrian Room of the British Museum had been conducted at the time when he was endeavouring to establish a mystic and esoteric meaning in the Babylonian tablets

The Green Flag
The Royal Mallows, at about that date, were as strange a lot of men as ever were paid by a great empire to fight its battles. It was the darkest hour of the land struggle

R. Austin Freeman

John Thorndyke's Cases by R. Austin Freeman

The Vanishing Man by R. Austin Freeman

The Uttermost Farthing by R. Austin Freeman

The Red Thumb Mark by R. Austin Freeman

The Mystery of 31 New Inn by R. Austin Freeman

The Singing Bone by R. Austin Freeman

The Mysterious Visitor by R. Austin Freeman

A Mystery Of The Sand-Hills by R. Austin Freeman

The Eye of Osiris by R. Austin Freeman

For The Defence, Dr. Thorndyke by R. Austin Freeman

A Silent Witness by R. Austin Freeman

A Certain Dr Thorndyke by R. Austin Freeman

Felo de Se? by R. Austin Freeman

Mr Polton Explains by R. Austin Freeman

Pontifex, Son And Thorndyke by R. Austin Freeman

Dr Thorndyke Short Story Omnibus by R. Austin Freeman

Jacques Futrelle

Emile Gaboriau

The Count's Millions by Emile Gaboriau
Whenever there is an accident in Paris, a throng of inquisitive spectators seems to spring up from the very pavement, and indeed more than fifty persons had already congregated round about the vehicle. This circumstance restored M. Casimir's composure; or, at least, some portion of it.

The Mystery of Orcival by Emile Gaboriau
Misfortune, which modifies characters, for good or bad, had made him, apparently, a great egotist. He declared that he was only interested in the affairs of life as a critic tired of its active scenes. He loved to make a parade of his profound indifference for everything, swearing that a rain of fire descending upon Paris, would not even make him turn his head.

Other People's Money by Emile Gaboriau
The dwelling was fit for the man; and every thing from the very hall, betrayed his peculiarities. There, evidently, every piece of furniture must have its invariable place, every object its irrevocable shelf or hook. All around were evidences, if not exactly of poverty, at least of small means,

Caught In The Net by Emile Gaboriau
This bitterly cold day actually made the landlady of the Hotel de Perou, though she was a hard, grasping woman of Auvergne, gave a thought to the condition of her lodgers, and one quite different from her usual idea of obtaining the maximum of rent for the minimum of accommodation.

Anna Katharine Green

The Woman in the Alcove by Anna Katharine Green
I was not made for love. This I had often said to myself; very often of late. In figure I am too diminutive, in face far too unbeautiful, for me to cherish expectations of this nature. Indeed, love had never entered into my plan of life

That Affair Next Door by Anna Katharine Green

A Strange Disappearance by Anna Katharine Green

The Old Stone House and Other Stories by Anna Katharine Green

The Mystery of the Hasty Arrow by Anna Katharine Green

The Mill Mystery by Anna Katharine Green

The Millionaire Baby by Anna Katharine Green

The Mayor's Wife by Anna Katharine Green

The Leavenworth Case by Anna Katharine Green

Initials Only by Anna Katharine Green

The House of the Whispering Pines by Anna Katharine Green

The House in the Mist by Anna Katharine Green

The Golden Slipper by Anna Katharine Green

The Filigree Ball by Anna Katharine Green

Dark Hollow by Anna Katharine Green

The Circular Study by Anna Katharine Green

The Chief Legatee by Anna Katharine Green

Agatha Webb by Anna Katharine Green

Harlan Page Halsey

The Old Sleuth Series

The Dock Rats of New York by Harlan Page Halsey

Oscar the Detective by Harlan Page Halsey

Cad Metti, the Female Detective Strategist by Harlan Page Halsey

A Desperate Chance: or, The Wizard Tramp's Revelation by Harlan Page Halsey

Dashiell Hammett

Red Harvest by Dashiell Hammett

The Maltese Falcon by Dashiell Hammett

The Thin Man by Dashiell Hammett

by Dashiell Hammett

by Dashiell Hammett

Afraid Of A Gun by Dashiell Hammett

Arson Plus by Dashiell Hammett

Zigzags Of Treachery by Dashiell Hammett

The Assistant Murderer by Dashiell Hammett

The Man Who Killed Dan Odams by Dashiell Hammett

Death On Pine Street by Dashiell Hammett

Bodies Piled Up by Dashiell Hammett

The Road Home by Dashiell Hammett

Ruffian's Wife by Dashiell Hammett

The Second-Story Angel by Dashiell Hammett

The Tenth Clew by Dashiell Hammett

Who Killed Bob Teal? by Dashiell Hammett

Mike, Alec, or Rufus by Dashiell Hammett

Nightmare Town by Dashiell Hammett

Night Shots by Dashiell Hammett

One Hour by Dashiell Hammett

Mrs. Oliphant

A Beleaguered City by Mrs. Oliphant
It was on a summer evening about sunset, the middle of the month of June, that my attention was attracted by an incident of no importance which occurred in the street, when I was making my way home

A Little Pilgrim by Mrs. Oliphant
When I call her a little Pilgrim, I do not mean that she was a child; on the contrary, she was not even young. She was little by nature, with as little flesh and blood as was consistent with mortal life; and she was one of those who are always little for love.

Jeanne d'Arc by Mrs. Oliphant
But Frenchmen were not Frenchmen, they were Burgundians, Armagnacs, Bretons, Provençaux five hundred years ago. The interests of one part of the kingdom were not those of the other.

The Secret Chamber by Mrs. Oliphant
I was about to say that no ghost-story I ever heard of has been so steadily and long believed. But this would be a mistake, for nobody knew even with any certainty that there was a ghost connected with it. A secret chamber was nothing wonderful in so old a house. No doubt they exist in many such old houses

The Open Door, and the Portrait by Mrs. Oliphant
It was within reach of Edinburgh; and my boy Roland, whose education had been considerably neglected, could go in and out to school; which was thought to be better for him than either leaving home altogether or staying there always with a tutor. The first of these expedients would have seemed preferable to me

Old Lady Mary by Mrs. Oliphant
She was very old, and therefore it was very hard for her to make up her mind to die. I am aware that this is not at all the general view

A Little Pilgrim by Mrs. Oliphant
All was quiet in the house: soft breathing of the sleepers, soft murmuring of the spring wind outside, a wintry moon very clear and full in the skies, a little town all hushed and quiet

A Beleaguered City by Mrs. Oliphant
At this moment the tinkle of a little bell warned all the bystanders of the procession which was about to pass, carrying the rites of the Church to some dying person.

Arthur B. Reeve

The Campaign Grafter by Arthur B. Reeve
Thus it came about that not very much later in the morning we found ourselves at the campaign headquarters, in the presence of two nervous and high-keyed gentlemen in frock coats and silk hats.

The White Slave by Arthur B. Reeve
Mysterious disappearances, such as that of Georgette Gilbert have alarmed the public and baffled the police before this, disappearances that in their suddenness, apparent lack of purpose and inexplicability, have had much in common with the case of Miss Gilbert.

The Treasure-Train by Arthur B. Reeve
"Yesterday I heard something that has made me think a great deal. You know, we live at the St. Germaine when we are in town. I've noticed for several months past that the lobbies are full of strange, foreign-looking people.

The Dream Doctor by Arthur B. Reeve
"Now, I don't want to file these letters in the waste basket. When people write letters to a newspaper, it means something. I might reply, in this case, that he is as real as science, as real as the fight of society against the criminal. But I want to do more than that."

The Problem of the Steel Door by Arthur B. Reeve
It was what in college we used to call "good football weather" -- a crisp autumn afternoon that sent the blood tingling through the brain and muscle. Kennedy and I were enjoying a stroll on the drive, dividing our attention between the glowing red sunset across the Hudson and the string of homeward-bound automobiles on the broad parkway. Suddenly a huge black touring car marked with big letters, "P. D. N. Y.," shot past.

The Romance of Elaine by Arthur B. Reeve
The car stopped and Elaine, Aunt Tabby and the dog got out. There, waiting for them, was "Uncle" Joshua, as Elaine playfully called him, a former gardener of the Dodges, now a plain, honest countryman on whom the city was fast encroaching, a jolly old fellow, unharmed by the world.

The Invisible Ray by Arthur B. Reeve
Kennedy's client was speaking in a low, full-chested vibrating voice, with some emotion, so low that I had entered the room without being aware that any one was there until it was too late to retreat.

Guy Garrick by Arthur B. Reeve
I was not surprised at reading the name of James McBirney on the detective's card, underneath which was the title of the Automobile Underwriters' Association. But I was more than surprised when the younger of the visitors handed us a card with the simple name, Mortimer Warrington.

The Gold of the Gods by Arthur B. Reeve
"How they got into the South American section of the Museum, though, I don't understand," he hurried on. "But, once in, that they should take the most valuable relic I brought back with me on this last expedition, I think certainly shows that it was a robbery with a deep-laid, premeditated purpose."

The Film Mystery by Arthur B. Reeve
Before us lay the body of the girl, remarkably beautiful even as she lay motionless in death. Her masses of golden hair, disheveled, added to the soft contours of her features.

The Exploits of Elaine by Arthur B. Reeve
The editor paused a moment, then exclaimed, "Why, this fellow seems to take a diabolical -- I might almost say pathological -- pleasure in crimes of violence, revenge, avarice and self-protection. Sometimes it seems as if he delights in the pure deviltry of the thing. It is weird."

The Ear in the Wall by Arthur B. Reeve
Carton laid down a new photograph which the newspapers had not printed yet. Betty Blackwell was slender, petite, chic. Her dark hair was carefully groomed, and there was an air with which she wore her clothes and carried herself, even in a portrait, which showed that she was no ordinary girl.

Constance Dunlap by Arthur B. Reeve
"Carlton Dunlap," she added in a tone that rasped his very soul, "I am nobody's fool. I may not know much about bookkeeping and accounting, but I can add -- and two and two, when the same man but different women compose each two, do not make four, according to my arithmetic, but three, from which,"

The Clairvoyants And Other Stories by Arthur B. Reeve
"There seemed to be a wall," she resumed, "a narrow wall in the way and I couldn't get over it. As often as I tried, I fell. And then I seemed to be pursued by some kind of animal, half bull, half snake. I ran. It followed closely. I seemed to see a crowd of people and I felt that if I could only get to that crowd, somehow I would be safe, perhaps might even get over the wall and -- I woke up -- almost screaming."

The War Terror by Arthur B. Reeve
Startled by my own involuntary exclamation of surprise which followed the vision that shot past me as I opened our door in response to a sudden, sharp series of pushes at the buzzer, Kennedy bounded swiftly toward me, and the girl almost flung herself upon him.

Mary Roberts Rinehart

Bab: A Sub-Deb
It is only just and fair that the Upper House, at least, should know of the injustice of my exile, and that it is all the result of Circumstances over which I had no controll. For I make this apeal, and with good reason. Is it any fault of mine that my sister Leila is 20 months older than I am? Naturaly, no.

Dangerous Days by Mary Roberts Rinehart
Through the open door the half dozen women trailed out, Natalie in white, softly rustling as she moved, Mrs. Haverford in black velvet, a trifle tight over her ample figure, Marion Hayden, in a very brief garment she would have called a frock, perennial debutante that she was, rather negligible Mrs. Terry Mackenzie, and trailing behind the others, frankly loath to leave the men,

The Bat
"You've got to get him, boys - get him or bust!" said a tired police chief, pounding a heavy fist on a table. The detectives he bellowed the words at looked at the floor. They had done their best and failed. Failure meant "resignation" for the police chief, return to the hated work of pounding the pavements for them - they knew it, and, knowing it, could summon no gesture of bravado to answer their chief's. Gunmen, thugs, hi-jackers, loft-robbers, murderers, they could get them all in time - but they could not get the man he wanted.

The Case Of Jennie Brice
My name is Pitman-in this narrative. It is not really Pitman, but that does well enough. I belong to an old Pittsburgh family. I was born on Penn Avenue, when that was the best part of town, and I lived, until I was fifteen, very close to what is now the Pittsburgh Club. It was a dwelling then; I have forgotten who lived there.

A Poor Wise Man
The city turned its dreariest aspect toward the railway on blackened walls, irregular and ill-paved streets, gloomy warehouses, and over all a gray, smoke-laden atmosphere which gave it mystery and often beauty. Sometimes the softened towers of the great steel bridges rose above the river mist like fairy towers suspended between Heaven and earth. And again the sun tipped the surrounding hills with gold, while the city lay buried in its smoke shroud, and white ghosts of river boats moved spectrally along.

The Amazing Interlude
The stage on which we play our little dramas of life and love has for most of us but one setting. It is furnished out with approximately the same things. Characters come, move about and make their final exits through long-familiar doors. And the back drop remains approximately the same from beginning to end. Palace or hovel, forest or sea, it is the background for the moving figures of the play.

The After House
By the bequest of an elder brother, I was left enough money to see me through a small college in Ohio, and to secure me four years in a medical school in the East. Why I chose medicine I hardly know. Possibly the career of a surgeon attracted the adventurous element in me. Perhaps, coming of a family of doctors, I merely followed the line of least resistance. It may be, indirectly but inevitably, that I might be on the yacht Ella on that terrible night of August 12, more than a year ago.

The Breaking Point
Elizabeth Wheeler liked choir practice. She liked the way in which, after the different parts had been run through, the voices finally blended into harmony and beauty. She liked the small sense of achievement it gave her, and of being a part, on Sundays, of the service. She liked the feeling, when she put on the black cassock and white surplice and the small round velvet cap of having placed in her locker the things of this world, such as a rose-colored hat and a blue georgette frock, and of being stripped, as it were, for aspirations.

More Tish

The Mystery of the Yellow Room

Love Stories

The After House

Tenting To-night

When A Man Marries
It began with Jimmy Wilson and a conspiracy, was helped on by a foot-square piece of yellow paper and a Japanese butler, and it enmeshed and mixed up generally ten respectable members of society and a policeman. Incidentally, it involved a pearl collar and a box of soap, which sounds incongruous, doesn't it?

The Case of Jennie Brice Yesterday we got the mud shoveled out of the cellar and found Peter, the spaniel that Mr. Ladley left when he "went away". The flood, and the fact that it was Mr. Ladley's dog whose body was found half buried in the basement fruit closet, brought back to me the strange events of the other flood five years ago

The Confession Yet the Benton house undeniably made me uncomfortable. Perhaps it was because it had remained unchanged for so long. The old horsehair chairs, with their shiny mahogany frames

The Man in Lower Ten McKnight is gradually taking over the criminal end of the business. I never liked it, and since the strange case of the man in lower ten, I have been a bit squeamish

The Street of Seven Stars Tradition had it that the Empress Maria Theresa had used the building as a hunting-lodge, and undoubtedly there was something royal in the proportions of the salon. With all the candles lighted in the great glass chandelier

Tish The ill nature of the cartoon, for instance, which showed Tish in a pair of khaki trousers on her back under a racing-car was quite uncalled for. Tish did not wear the khaki trousers; she merely took them along in case of emergency.

Twenty-Three and a Half Hours' Leave Now the Headquarters Troop are a cavalry organisation, their particular function being, so far as the lay mind can grasp it, to form a circle round the general and keep shells from falling on him.

The Truce of God From the place below rose a thin grey smoke where the fire kindled for the steer. But the crowd had deserted and now stood

Kings, Queens And Pawns All through England, all through France, all through that tragic corner of Belgium which remains to her, are similar armies, drilling and waiting, equally young, equally eager, equally resolute. And the thing they were going to I knew.

Long Live the King Prince Ferdinand William Otto looked across at the other royal box, and caught his Cousin Hedwig's eye. She also had seen the handkerchief; she took out her own scrap of linen, and mimicked the shadow.

K There was a house across and a little way down the Street, with a card in the window that said: "Meals, twenty-five cents." Evidently the midday meal was over; men who looked like clerks and small shopkeepers were hurrying away.

Where there's a Will When it was all over Mr. Sam came out to the spring-house to say good-by to me before he and Mrs. Sam left. I hated to see him go

The Window at the White Cat From the frayed and slovenly petticoats of the woman who owns a poultry stand in the market and who has grown wealthy by selling chickens at twelve ounces to the pound,

Sight Unseen We passed the Wellses' house on our way to Mrs. Dane's that night, and my wife commented on the dark condition of the lower floor.

Sax Rohmer

The Yellow Claw by Sax Rohmer
He hesitated when about to open the outer door, raising his hands to his dishevelled hair and unshaven chin. The flap of the letter- box dropped; and the girl outside could be heard stifling her laughter.

Chinatown by Sax Rohmer
In the saloon bar of a public-house, situated only a few hundred yards from the official frontier of Chinatown, two men sat at a small table in a corner, . . . One was a thick-set and rather ruffianly looking fellow, not too cleanly in either person or clothing, and, amongst other evidences that at one time he had known the prize ring, possessing a badly broken nose.

The Green Eyes Of Bâst by Sax Rohmer
I often stopped for a chat at this point and I was acquainted with most of the men of P. division on whom the duty devolved from time to time. It was a lonely spot at night when the residents in the neighborhood had retired

The Quest of the Sacred Slipper by Sax Rohmer
I was not the only passenger aboard the S.S. Mandalay who perceived the disturbance and wondered what it might portend and from whence proceed. A goodly number of passengers were joining the ship at Port Said

The Golden Scorpion by Sax Rohmer
(He) awoke with a start and discovered himself to be bathed in cold perspiration. The moonlight shone in at his window, but did not touch the bed, therefore his awakening could not be due to this cause. He lay for some time listening for any unfamiliar noise which might account for the sudden disturbance of his usually sound slumbers. In the house below nothing stirred

Bat Wing Sax Rohmer

Breath of Allah Sax Rohmer

Brood Of The Witch-Queen Sax Rohmer

Fire Tongue Sax Rohmer

Kerry's Kid Sax Rohmer

Lure of Souls by Sax Rohmer

Tcheriapin by Sax Rohmer

The Daughter Of Huang Chow by Sax Rohmer

The Death-Ring of Sneferu by Sax Rohmer

The Hand Of The Mandarin Quong by Sax Rohmer

The House Of Golden Joss by Sax Rohmer

The Key Of The Temple Of Heaven by Sax Rohmer

The Mysterious Mummy by Sax Rohmer

The Pigtail Of Hi Wing Ho by Sax Rohmer

The Insidious Dr. Fu Manchu by Sax Rohmer
To say that I was perplexed conveys no idea of the mental chaos created by these extraordinary statements, for into my humdrum suburban life Nayland Smith had brought fantasy of the wildest. I did not know what to think, what to believe.

Fire-Tongue by Sax Rohmer
Some of Paul Harley's most interesting cases were brought to his notice in an almost accidental way. Although he closed his office in Chancery Lane sharply at the hour of six, the hour of six by no means marked the end of his business day.

The Return of Dr. Fu-Manchu by Sax Rohmer
There were no lights to be seen in any of the windows, which circumstance rather surprised me, as my patient occupied, or had occupied when last I had visited her, a first-floor bedroom in the front of the house. My knocking and ringing produced no response for three or four minutes; then, as I persisted, a scantily clothed and half awake maid servant unbarred the door and stared at me stupidly in the moonlight.

Dope by Sax Rohmer
Monte Irvin, alderman of the city and prospective Lord Mayor of London, paced restlessly from end to end of the well-appointed library of his house in Prince's Gate. Between his teeth he gripped the stump of a burnt-out cigar. A tiny spaniel lay beside the fire, his beady black eyes following the nervous movements of the master of the house.

Emile C. Tepperman

The Suicide Squad--Dead or Alive by Emile C. Tepperman

The Suicide Squad and the Murder Bund by Emile C. Tepperman

The Suicide Squad Reports For Death by Emile C. Tepperman

Suicide Squad - Targets For The Flaming Arrows by Emile C. Tepperman

War Masters From The Orient by Emile C. Tepperman

Married For Murder by Emile C. Tepperman

A Half Interest in Hell by Emile C. Tepperman

A Cue For The Corpse by Emile C. Tepperman

Raiders Of The Red Death by Emile C. Tepperman

In This Corner - Death by Emile C. Tepperman

Manchu Skull by Emile C. Tepperman

A Coffin For the Avenger by Emile C. Tepperman

Calling Justice Inc by Emile C. Tepperman

Cargo of Doom by Emile C. Tepperman

Death To the Avenger by Emile C. Tepperman

To Find a Dead Man by Emile C. Tepperman

The Murder Monster by Emile C. Tepperman

S. S. Van Dine

The "Canary" Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine
In the offices of the Homicide Bureau of the Detective Division of the New York Police Department, on the third floor of the police headquarters building in Centre Street, there is a large steel filing cabinet

The Benson Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine
Due to my peculiar relations with Vance it happened that not only did I participate in all the cases with which he was connected but I was also present at most of the informal discussions concerning them . . .

The Bishop Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine
Of all the criminal cases in which Philo Vance participated as an unofficial investigator, the most sinister, the most bizarre, the seemingly most incomprehensible, and certainly the most terrifying, was the one that followed the famous Greene murders

The Scarab Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine
But it is problematic if even Vance, with his fine analytic mind and his remarkable flair for the subtleties of human psychology, could have solved that bizarre and astounding murder if he had not been the first observer on the scene

The Greene Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

The Kennel Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

The Dragon Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

The Garden Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

The Kidnap Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

The Casino Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

The Gracie Allen Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

The Winter Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine

Various Authors

The Attic Murder by Sydney Fowler
There was suicide. Always that. But to those who are young and healthy of mind it is a way that does not appeal: to those who have courage it is the way of cowardice and shame. He dismissed it at once. A theoretical road of escape, but one which he knew he would never take.

The Lock and Key Library \ Julian Hawthorne
Under none of the accredited ghostly circumstances, and environed by none of the conventional ghostly surroundings, did I first make acquaintance with the house which is the subject of this Christmas piece. I saw it in the daylight, with the sun upon it. There was no wind, no rain, no lightning, no thunder, no awful or unwonted circumstance, of any kind, to heighten its effect.

The Woman in White by Wilkie Collins
Thus, the story here presented will be told by more than one pen, as the story of an offence against the laws is told in Court by more than one witness--with the same object, in both cases, to present the truth always in its most direct and most intelligible aspect; and to trace the course of one complete series of events, by making the persons who have been most closely connected with them, at each successive stage, relate their own experience, word for word.

The Lady, or the Tiger? by Frank R. Stockton
When a subject was accused of a crime of sufficient importance to interest the king, public notice was given that on an appointed day the fate of the accused person would be decided in the king's arena, a structure which well deserved its name,

The Jordans Murder by Sydney Fowler
A naked body left dangling on a fence, the victim of a strange murder, smashed the Sabbath morning peace of a small Quaker village. This gruesome object, all that was left of an apparently wealthy man, was found propped on a stile at the turn of a lonely country road.

My Favorite Murder by Ambrose Bierce
May it please your Honor, crimes are ghastly or agreeable only by comparison. If you were familiar with the details of my client's previous murder of his uncle you would discern in his later offense (if offense it may be called) something in the nature of tender forbearance

The Wisdom of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton
Dr Hood paced the length of his string of apartments, bounded-- as the boys' geographies say--on the east by the North Sea and on the west by the serried ranks of his sociological and criminologist library. He was clad in an artist's velvet, but with none of an artist's negligence;

I Say No by Wilkie Collins
Miss Ladd knew her business as a schoolmistress too well to allow night-lights; and Miss Ladd's young ladies were supposed to be fast asleep, in accordance with the rules of the house. Only at intervals the silence was faintly disturbed, when the restless turning of one of the girls in her bed betrayed itself by a gentle rustling between the sheets.

The Law and the Lady by Wilkie Collins
Where were my thoughts? What had become of my attention? I was too bewildered to know. I started and looked at my new husband. He seemed to be almost as much bewildered as I was. The same thought had, as I believe, occurred to us both at the same moment.

The Secret of the Night by Gaston Leroux
Ermolai bowed and returned to the garden. The "barinia" left the veranda, where she had come for this conversation with the old servant of General Trebassof, her husband, and returned to the dining-room in the datcha des Iles, where the gay Councilor Ivan Petrovitch was regaling his amused associates with his latest exploit at Cubat's resort.

The Shape of Fear by Elia W. Peattie
He fell in with men who talked of art for art's sake, -- though what right they had to speak of art at all nobody knew, -- and little by little his view of life and love became more or less pro- fane. He met a woman who sucked his heart's blood, and he knew it and made no protest; nay, to the great amusement of the fellows who talked of art for art's sake, he went the length of marrying her.

The Trees of Pride by G.K. Chesterton
The woodman was naturally a rougher and even wilder figure than the gardener. His face also was brown, and looked like an antique parchment, and it was framed in an outlandish arrangement of raven beard and whiskers, which was really a fashion fifty years ago, but might have been five thousand years old or older.

The Man Who Was Thursday by G. K. Chesterton
A cloud was on the mind of men, and wailing went the weather, Yea, a sick cloud upon the soul when we were boys together. Science announced nonentity and art admired decay; The world was old and ended: but you and I were gay; Round us in antic order their crippled vices came--

The Innocence of Father Brown by G. K. Chesterton
Between the silver ribbon of morning and the green glittering ribbon of sea, the boat touched Harwich and let loose a swarm of folk like flies, among whom the man we must follow was by no means conspicuous--nor wished to be.

Hunted Down by Charles Dickens
I confess, for my part, that I Have been taken in, over and over again. I have been taken in by acquaintances, and I have been taken in (of course) by friends; far oftener by friends than by any other class of persons. How came I to be so deceived? Had I quite misread their faces?

The Haunted Hotel By Wilkie Collins
Did the lady in the consulting-room suspect him? or did Thomas's shoes creak, and was her sense of hearing unusually keen? Whatever the explanation may be, the event that actually happened was beyond all doubt. Exactly as Doctor Wybrow passed his consulting-room, the door opened--the lady appeared on the threshold-- and laid her hand on his arm.

Stories of Modern French novels by Julian Hawthorne
This cruel loss, for which he was totally unprepared, threw him into a state of profound melancholy; and some months later, seeking to mitigate his grief by the distractions of travel, he left his domains near Moscow, never intending to return.

Stories by Modern American Authors Edited by Julian Hawthorne
I used to be taken to see my mother every day, and sometimes twice a day, for an hour at a time. Then I sat upon a little stool near her feet, and she would ask me what I had been doing, and what I wanted to do. I dare say she saw already the seeds of a profound melancholy in my nature, for she looked at me always with a sad smile, and kissed me with a sigh when I was taken away.

The Case of the Registered Letter by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
I found my aunt somewhat worried because Miss Roemer had left the house immediately after our early dinner, and had not yet returned. We both knew the girl to be still grieving over her broken engagement, and we dreaded the effect this last dreadful news might have on her.

The Red House Mystery by A. A. Milne
In the drowsy heat of the summer afternoon the Red House was taking its siesta. There was a lazy murmur of bees in the flower-borders, a gentle cooing of pigeons in the tops of the elms. From distant lawns came the whir of a mowing-machine, that most restful of all country sounds; making ease the sweeter in that it is taken while others are working.

The Case of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
Muller stood on the top of this knoll at a spot where the street divided. Towards the right it led down into a factory suburb; towards the left the road led on to a residence colony, and straight ahead the way was open, between fields, pastures and farms, over moors, to another town of considerable size lying beside a river. Muller knew all this, but his knowledge of the locality was of little avail, for all traces of the carriage wheels were lost.

The Case of The Pool of Blood in the Pastor's Study by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner
"Yes, your Grace! As soon as I saw you coming I sent the sexton to the asylum." Then the men went in again into the room which had been the scene of the mysterious crime. The wind rattled the open window and blew out its white curtains. It was already dark in the corners of the room, one could see but indistinctly the carvings of the wainscoting.

The Golf Course Mystery by Chester K. Steele
Not far away was Loch Harbor, where the yachts of the club of which Captain Gerry Poland was president anchored, and a mile or so in the opposite direction was Lake Tacoma, on the shore of which was Lakeside. A rather exclusive colony summered there, the hotel numbering many wealthy persons among its patrons.

Under the Andes by Rex Stout
The thing was tiresome enough, but how could I have avoided it? The blood that rushes to the head of the gambler is certainly not food for the intellect; and, besides, I was forced by circumstances into an heroic attitude--and nothing is more distasteful to a man of sense. But I had a task before me; if a man lays bricks he should lay them well; and I do not deny that there was a stirring of my pulse as I sat down.

The Darrow Enigma by Melvin L. Severy
He then told me how he had made a study of Miss Darrow's movements, and had met her many times since; in fact, so often that he fancied, from something in her manner, that she had begun to wonder if his frequent appearance were not something more than a coincidence. The fear that she might think him dogging her footsteps worried him, and he began as sedulously to avoid the places he knew she frequented,

The Man Who Knew Too Much by G.K. Chesterton
Abruptly, in the middle of those sunny and windy flats, he came upon a sort of cleft almost narrow enough to be called a crack in the land. It was just large enough to be the water-course for a small stream which vanished at intervals under green tunnels of undergrowth, as if in a dwarfish forest. Indeed, he had an odd feeling as if he were a giant looking over the valley of the pygmies.

December 6 by Martin Cruz Smith

Gorky Park by Martin Cruz Smith

Havana Bay by Martin Cruz Smith

Polar Star by Martin Cruz Smith

Red Square by Martin Cruz Smith

Stallion Gate by Martin Cruz Smith

Wolves Eat Dogs [ZIP] by Martin Cruz Smith

A Judgment in Stone by Ruth Rendell

A Sight for Sore Eyes by Ruth Rendell

Live Flesh by Ruth Rendell

Talking to Strange Men by Ruth Rendell

The Bridesmaid by Ruth Rendell

The Keys to the Street by Ruth Rendell

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