LITMIR.BIZ

A murder mystery thought to have been solved ages ago comes back with a bang when an unidentified body of a man is found at the Dover Beach with severe head injuries. Excerpt: "Elsie and Inskipp watched them disappear. «There, but for the grace of God—» murmured Inskipp unctuously. «I don't think any one should be as ugly as those two are,» said Elsie. She spoke meditatively, objectively. She was an artist, and, incidentally, a very pretty girl. And as though to give her another look at them, the brother and sister suddenly reappeared, walking briskly towards them. As usual, Florence Rackstraw was in the lead. She was very tall. Her head was too large for her bony body, and seemed to be all face, a face the colour of mottled mahogany. Her hair, straight as that of a mouse, was looped in two curtains over her ears and gathered into a tight little bun on her long, scraggy neck. Her eyes protruded. Her chin retreated. Her nose was hooked. Her mouth consisted of two thin, pale lines that slanted up to one side."

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A dead body is found in a hotel's wardrobe and points towards an unfortunate case of drug-overdose. But Inspector Pointer is not convinced and treats it as a murder mystery. Is he right in his presumption? Or, is it indeed a drug-overdose case? Excerpt: "The door opened noiselessly, and four men came in. They were in plain clothes, and one carried a large box. «Evening,» said the first. «I am Chief Inspector Pointer from New Scotland Yard. These are detectives Watts, Miller and Lester. What's wrong?» «I 'phoned,» a tall young man answered crisply. «I am the manager of the hotel. This is Mr. Beale, an American gentleman to whom this room was let a couple of hours ago. It really belongs to a young fellow who is away for the week-end, but as there was no other room available we assigned it to this gentleman for the one night. Mr. Beale has just told me that there is something wrong about the wardrobe you see there. Kindly investigate that large knot-hole in the back for yourself, Inspector.»

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e-artnow presents to you the meticulously edited collection of the Golden Age murder mysteries featuring Chief Inspector Pointer!So, put on your detective hats and get ready to solve some mind-boggling clues. Contents: The Eames-Erskine Case The Charteris Mystery The Footsteps That Stopped The Clifford Affair The Cluny Problem The Wedding Chest Mystery The Craig Poisoning Mystery The Tall House Mystery Tragedy atBeechcroft The Case of the Two Pearl Necklaces Scarecrow Mystery at the Rectory

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A headless corpse found in a flat becomes a source of tension for the police with his identity being linked to a Basque anarchist! Excerpt: "Look here, Pointer. Suppose you hand over the reins of that case you're on to Clark. He can carry on all right now. Superintendent Maybrick of Hampstead wants help. Or rather, I think he needs it. He's just been called in to a horrid mess, a murder, in one of the flats in his district. From certain things he thinks it's an anarchist plot gone wrong, 'biter bit' sort of thing," Major Pelham said vaguely; «he's got into touch with the Foreign Office already. So by this time there's sure to be some F.O. man sprinting along to have a first look.»

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Chief Inspector Pointer is on a mission to catch the biggest and the baddest of criminals. Aided by his side-kicks, Pointer is a master of observation and daring. e-artnow presents to you the meticulously edited Boxed Set of his myriad adventures and intriguing cases for your absolute reading pleasure. Contents: The Eames-Erskine Case The Charteris Mystery The Footsteps That Stopped The Clifford Affair The Cluny Problem The Wedding Chest Mystery The Craig Poisoning Mystery The Tall House Mystery Tragedy atBeechcroft The Case of the Two Pearl Necklaces Scarecrow Mystery at the Rectory

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A ghost prank by a bunch of youngster goes horribly wrong when one of them gets fatally injured by a loaded revolver. Was it really an accident or was it a pre-planned murder? Excerpt: "Moy was about the same age, around twenty-five; small of stature, quick and eager in eye and movement. Tark, the third man, struck such a different note that at first glance one would have taken him for a foreigner. Moy liked Haliburton, but he did not care for his companion, whom he had met in his company a couple of times lately. But, though he did not like Tark, Moy was interested in the man. For the young solicitor was writing a play in secret, and was keenly interested in finding characters for it. Haliburton, he had decided, was no earthly good to a writer. Rich. Easy going. Kindly…but this other, the chap with the name that suited him somehow—because it rhymed with shark probably, Moy decided—he might be very useful. He turned to him now."

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Soon after receiving a beautiful pearl necklace set as a wedding gift from her husband, the bride is found murdered! Even the pearls are found to be fake. So, who killed the innocent bride? Where are the real pearls? Excerpt: "Kitty Walsh had just been watching the marionettes. At first with keen amusement; but suddenly they had become not funny at all—instead, a sort of ghastly parody on life. They looked so incredibly alive, their actions seemed too intelligent, and yet they were only puppets that were dancing, and making love, and even committing murders with such energy and dash. She shot a glance at Ronald Mills beside her it had been his idea that in lieu of another dance they should watch the Show for a while. He caught her eye and followed her back into the ballroom."

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Ronald Craig's death from arsenic poisoning riles up lot of feathers in a small country side with each person having a strong motif! Excerpt: "You say you're going up to town, Bob, as soon as you've left here. Anywhere near Pont Street? Good. Then do you mind wheeling that nearer to me?" The sick man waved a thin, but still brown hand, to where a little writing cabinet, shaped like a miniature roll-top desk, stood on a swing table. «Thanks,» he went on. «Just wait a minute, will you, while I write a note. If you'll drop it in Houghton's letter-box, or hand it in yourself, I shall be much obliged.» He hesitated. «Yourself,» he repeated. «It's most important, and I don't want to wait for the post.»

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