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Two-Way Murder
Mystery crime fiction written in the Golden Age of Murder It is a dark and misty night—isn't it always?—and bachelors Nicholas and Ian are driving to the ball at Fordings, a beautiful concert hall in the countryside. There waits the charming Dilys Maine, and a party buzzing with rumours of one Rosemary Reeve who disappeared on the eve of this event the previous year, not found to this day. With thoughts of mysterious case ringing in their ears, Dilys and Nicholas strike a stranger on the drive back home, launching a new investigation and unwittingly reviving the search for what really became of Rosemary Reeve. Written in the last years of the author's life, this previously unpublished no...
These Names Make Clues
"An invitation to a "treasure hunt" open to thriller writers and lesser mortals confronts Scotland Yard's Chief Inspector Macdonald with two baffling deaths."— Kirkus Reviews It's all fun and games (and fake names) until someone ends up dead... Amidst the confusion of too many fake names, clues, ciphers, and convoluted alibis, Chief Inspector Macdonald and his allies in the CID must unravel a truly tangled case in this metafictional masterpiece, which returns to print for the first time since its publication in 1937. This edition includes an introduction by CWA Diamond Dagger Award-winning author Martin Edwards. "Should detectives go to parties? Was it consistent with the dignity of the Yard? The inspector tossed for it—and went." Chief Inspector Macdonald has been invited to a treasure hunt party at the house of Graham Coombe, the celebrated publisher of Murder by Mesmerism. Despite a handful of misgivings, the inspector joins a guest list of novelists and thriller writers disguised on the night under literary pseudonyms. The fun comes to an abrupt end, however, when "Samuel Pepys" is found dead in the telephone room in bizarre circumstances.
Murderer's Mistake
It's not long after the end of WWII, rationing is still in force in the UK, and Chief Inspector Macdonald of Scotland Yard is hot on the heels of a coupon racketeer, Gordon Ginner. Just then he gets a letter from Lancastrian farmer Giles Hoggett about some odd goings on recently in Lunesdale. Normally he'd pass on the letter to some subordinate, but the possibility that Giles's suspicions might link to the Ginner investigation are just too tantalizing to leave alone, so off to Lancashire goes Chief Inspector Macdonald... soon to discover the murdered body of Gordon Ginner!
Crook O' Lune
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Fell Murder
Discover the captivating treasures buried in the British Library's archives. Largely inaccessible to the public until now, these enduring classics were written in the golden age of detective fiction. "...this crime is conditioned by the place. To understand the one you've got to study the other." The Garths had farmed their fertile acres for generations, and fine land it was with the towering hills of the Lake Country on the far horizon. Here hot-tempered Robert Garth, still hale and hearty at eighty-two, ruled Garthmere Hall with a rod of iron. Until, that is, old Garth was found dead—'dead as mutton'—in the trampled mud of the ancient outhouse. Glowering clouds gather over the dramatic...
Murder by Matchlight
Mystery crime fiction written in the Golden Age of Murder "A terrifically atmospheric puzzler...the ending is a stunner...like the best Golden Age crime fiction." —Booklist STARRED review '"A man who played about on the fringes of the Black Market, who had fought for Sinn Fein, who lived by his wits—and who finally became dangerous to somebody and was knocked over the head in the blackout. It may prove to be a sordid story, but I certainly find it an interesting one."' London, 1945. The capital is shrouded in the darkness of the blackout, and mystery abounds in the parks after dusk. During a stroll through Regent's Park, Bruce Mallaig witnesses two men acting suspiciously around a footbridge. In a matter of moments, one of them has been murdered; Mallaig's view of the assailant but a brief glimpse of a ghastly face in the glow of a struck match. The murderer's noiseless approach and escape seems to defy all logic, and even the victim's identity is quickly thrown into uncertainty. Lorac's shrewd yet personable C.I.D. man MacDonald must set to work once again to unravel this near-impossible mystery.
shroud of darkness
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Crossed Skis
"Crossed Skis Means Danger Ahead... In Bloomsbury, London, Inspector Brook of Scotland Yard looks down at a dismal scene. The victim of a ruthless murder lies burnt beyond recognition, his possessions and papers destroyed by fire. But there is one strange, yet promising, lead-a lead which suggests the involvement of a skier. Meanwhile, piercing sunshine beams down on the sparkling snow of the Austrian Alps, where a merry group of holidaymakers are heading towards Lech am Arlberg. Eight men and eight women take to the slopes, but, as the C.I.D. scrambles to crack the perplexing case in Britain, the ski party are soon to become sixteen suspects"--
Bodies from the Library 4
This annual anthology of rare stories of crime and suspense brings together tales from the Golden Age of Detective Fiction for the first time in book form, including a short novel by Christianna Brand.
I Could Murder Her
Muriel Farrington is a domineering woman who, unfortunately for them, has her entire family living with her in her stately home. She tries, often successfully, to run the lives of her children, her stepchildren, her in-laws, and her husband, and she seems to be despised by all except her husband and one son. When she is found dead one morning in her bed, the family doctor, who is old, ill, and hasn’t been very able for years, is unable to attend and bestow a certificate, which he would have done without investigation or thought. A younger, more able and perceptive doctor has to be called in, to the shock of whoever the murderer was, and he does not find the death natural. A hypodermic puncture in her arm leads him to believe, correctly as it turns out, that someone has injected insulin into the woman. Since she was not suffering from diabetes, death was the inevitable result.
