A Roger Sheringham mystery from Golden Age author Anthony BerkeleyWhen the daughter of a country parson goes missing in London, Roger Sheringham receives a letter from her father pleading for help. As the amateur sleuth investigates, he discovers that the girl is already dead, found hanging from ...
A Roger Sheringham mysteryDetective writer John Hillyard is entertaining a small house party at Minton Deeps Farm when a shocking accident takes place. Shortly after enacting a murder drama for their own amusement, the guests are returning to the house when Eric Scott Davies, the man who played v...
Publicado en http://lecturaylocura.com/bombones-en...En el prólogo de la edición inglesa de The floating admiral (1931), el presidente en la actualidad del Detection Club, Simon Brett, comenta a propósito de las novela negras en el momento presente que “they are certainly more psychologically cre...
Ambrose Chitterwick may be a milquetoast relentlessly hectored by his own imperious aunt, but he's a formidable force in his own field of criminology. Quickly realizing that the supposed suicide of a woman at the Piccadilly Palace Hotel was likely a murder, Chitterwick performs an anomalous act o...
I had put in a hard morning grease-banding the pear orchard against a bad invasion of winter moth and, while not deliberately avoiding Oswald’s Gable and all its complications, had not been sorry to put it out of my mind for a time. Angela had all my sympathy, but it was no place of mine to const...
He referred in terms of gentle sarcasm to Roger’s breach of trust, though quite without heat, his attitude being one rather of disillusionment than anger; one gathered that the person he really blamed for the business was himself, for being such a consummate idiot as to trust a journalist. He lis...
“Do I understand, then,” he said carefully, “that you are offering to murder anyone whom I recommend?” “Tee-hee,” cackled Mr Todhunter. “Well, if you put it so bluntly, yes.” “It’s best, I think, to have these things quite plain.” “Oh, undoubtedly, undoubtedly.” Furze ate a few more mouthfuls wit...
Reginald Dane drew his wife into a corner of the higgledy-piggledy drawing-room. “I say,” he whispered, with a cautious eye on the hall. “I say, darling, how much do you think I ought to give these men?” “Haven’t the least idea, darling,” Molly Dane...
Roger said judicially, leaning back against the railing that bordered the roof. “The deuce you do, Roger. That’s very kind of you.” “Don’t get heated. I was only thinking that men have been hanged before now, because their explanations weren’t accepted. Many, many men, Colin.” “Have you brought m...