Whodunit, British Library, Crime Classic, Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, Dorothy L. Sayers

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The D.D.I. recognized him and smiled. “That was a great case you brought us. You’ll be interested to hear that it is a case of mur-r-der!”

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Description

The D.D.I. recognized him and smiled. “That was a great case you brought us. You’ll be interested to hear that it is a case of mur-r-der!”

For eight years Basil Thomson headed the famous C.I.D., New Scotland Yard. He knew the Yard inside out. Now in this tale of mystery and detection we are taken behind the scenes. We are shown the greatest detection machine in the world in motion, and see how the Yard tracked down its man.

Stand, then, with young P.C. Richardson on the misty corner of Baker Street, while the traffic of the city swings by, and fate lays at his feet the beginning of his career. Out of the fog brakes shriek, a big car jolts to a stop, and from beneath the wheels the crowd disentangles a bundle of old clothes, within which is a man quite dead; a man who had said to someone, “Very well, then; I’ll call a policeman”—and was killed. Work with him to the ingenious solution, when he takes from his pocket the clue holding the fate of a human life.

Richardson’s First Case was originally published in 1933. This new edition, the first in over seventy years, features an introduction by crime novelist Martin Edwards, author of acclaimed genre history The Golden Age of Murder.

Praise

“The story is a good one, with enough mystery in it to keep the reader wondering.” DAILY TELEGRAPH

Bibliographic Data

Category: Crime Fiction
Publication Date: April 2016
Territories: World
ISBN: 978 1 911095 68 2 (ebook) / 978 1 911095 67 5 (paperback)

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In the hall he found the body of his maidservant, Helen Dunn, aged about fifty, lying on the floor near the telephone. She had bled profusely from a wound in the head and her body was cold.

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“The late Miss Clynes, sir? How dreadful. It must have been very sudden.”

“It was.”

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He flung open a drawer and took from it a heavy dagger in a sheath with blood-stains upon it. On the blade were engraved the words, “Blut und Ehre!”

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“I’m writing to you about the death of Mr. Dearborn. You bet the murderer’s laughing up his sleeve now that he’s got away with it.”

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“There’s one thing which I daresay you noticed—that pair of slippers half kicked under the bath were of men’s size.”

“Yes, I noticed that, too, and they were sprinkled with blood.”

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“What are you looking for, sir?” he said.

“Bloodstains.”

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None of the other guests could explain what she was doing in Crooked Lane during the night…

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