My dear Father, I know of nobody who likes a detective story more than you do, with the possible exception of myself. So if I write one and you read it, we ought to be able to amuse ourselves at any r...

William, the gardener at Layton Court, was a man of melancholy deliberation. It did not pay, William held, to rush things; especially the important things of life, such as the removal of greenfly from...

Mr. Victor Stanworth, the host of the little party now in progress at Layton Court, was, according to the reports of his friends, who were many and various, a thoroughly excellent sort of person. What...

Like many of the other rooms at Layton Court, the library had been largely modernised. Dark oak panelling still covered the walls, but the big open fireplace, with its high chimneypiece, had been bloc...

Inspector Mansfield, of the Elchester police, was a methodical person. He knew exactly what he had to do, and just how to do it. And he had precisely as much imagination as was required for his job, a...

“Now, gentlemen,” said the inspector, when the four of them were seated in the morning room, “there is a certain amount of routine work for me to do, though it may strike you as unimportant.” He smile...

Alec started, and his broad, good-humoured face paled a little. “Good Lord!” he ejaculated in startled tones. “What on earth do you mean?” “Simply what I say,” returned Roger. “Why did Stanworth go ou...

“Very well, Sherlock,” said Alec. “And what’s the first move?” “The library,” Roger replied promptly, and rose to his feet. Alec followed suit and they turned towards the house. “What do you expect to...

For a moment there was silence between the two. Then: “Great Scott!” Alec remarked. “Absolutely certain?” “Absolutely. It’s a bullet mark all right. The bullet isn’t there, but it must have just embed...

They entered the house by the front door, which always stood open whenever a party was in progress. The unspoken thought was in the minds of both that they preferred not to pass through the library. A...

“Great Scott!” Alec exclaimed, considerably startled. “Find the murderer?” Roger seemed pleased with the impression he had made. “Naturally. What else? It’s the logical sequel to what we’ve already do...

Leaving Alec to accompany Mrs. Plant to the house, Roger hurried on ahead with a muttered excuse. He was anxious not to miss a moment of the highly significant scene which was about to take place. As ...

“Oh!” said Alec carefully, when Roger had finished. “You see? I carefully refrain from drawing any deduction. Aloud, at any rate. All I say is that it looks funny.” “Lots of things seem to look funny ...

“Show me what?” Alec exclaimed, bounding out of his chair. “How the murderer escaped,” Roger repeated, turning and smiling happily at his dumbfounded accomplice. “It’s extraordinarily simple, really. ...

The ash pit proved easy to locate. It lay among some outhouses and was surrounded on three sides by mellow old redbrick walls, the space within which was filled with a depressed-looking mass of rottin...

After the blazing sun and the dust, the cool bar of the old-fashioned little village inn, with its sanded floor and its brasses gleaming in the soft twilight, was remarkably welcome. Roger buried his ...

“Alec,” interrupted Roger plaintively, “if you say one more word to me about bulls, cows, or any other farmyard impedimenta, I shall burst at once into loud tears. I warn you.” They were walking once ...

But however much Jefferson might guess of their activities, certainly nothing was visible in his manner as Roger and Alec entered the drawing room, twenty minutes late for tea. He greeted them in his ...

Alec stared incredulously. “Back into the house? But⁠—but what on earth would he want to be going back into the house for?” “Ah, now you’re asking me something. I haven’t the least idea. I don’t even ...

At the top of the stairs the two parted, Alec going to his own room and Roger to his. Arrived there, the latter did not proceed immediately with his changing; for some moments he leaned, deep in thoug...

For a moment Mrs. Plant sat perfectly rigid. Then she put out her hand and mechanically took the handkerchief that Roger was still holding out to her. Her face had gone quite white and her eyes were w...

Long after Alec’s not altogether willing departure, Roger sat smoking and thinking. On the whole, he was not sorry to be alone. Alec was proving a somewhat discouraging companion in this business. Evi...

It was past ten o’clock on the following morning, and Roger and Alec were engaged in taking a constitutional in the rose garden after breakfast before the inquest proceedings opened. Roger had refused...

The inquest, in spite of the snail-like deliberation demanded by all legal processes, did not occupy more than an hour and a half. The issue was never in the least doubt, and the proceedings were more...

Roger sat through the first part of lunch in a species of minor trance. It was not until the necessity for consuming a large plateful of prunes and tapioca pudding, the two things besides Jews that he...

Roger had no time to waste. Mrs. Plant, Alec, and himself were all to leave by the train soon after five o’clock; the car would be ready to take them into Elchester at half-past four. Tea was to be at...

For some moments Roger was incapable of speech. This disclosure was so totally unexpected, so entirely the reverse of anything that he had ever imagined, that at first it literally took his breath awa...

Roger did not reappear until the car was at the front door and the other members of the party already making their farewells on the steps. His leave-taking was necessarily a little hurried; but perhap...

Alec contemplated the tips of his shoes for a moment. Then he looked up suddenly. “It wasn’t exactly murder, you know,” he said abruptly. “Certainly not,” Roger agreed. “It was a well-merited executio...