When Harry Marsland was caught in a sudden down pour he sought shelter at Cliff Farm. Met at the door by a young woman clearly expecting someone else he is only too glad to get inside to wait out the storm. When they hear a noise upstairs in the deserted house they investigate only to discover the body of the farm's owner, Frank Lumsden, dead of a gunshot wound. Who then, killed Lumsden, and why? Who was the woman expecting and did she have any roll in the murder? These are the questions t...

Colwyn had never seen anything quite so eccentric in a public room as the behaviour of the young man breakfasting alone at the alcove table in the bay embrasure, and he became so absorbed in watching him that he permitted his own meal to grow cold, impatiently waving away the waiter who sought with obtrusive obsequiousness to recall his wandering attention by thrusting the menu card before him.To outward seeming the occupant of the alcove table was a good-looking young man, whose cl...

From Miss Heredith's point of view, a girl who smoked and talked slang lacked any sense of the dignity of the high position to which she had been called. She was in every way unfitted to become mother of the next male Heredith -- if, indeed, she consented to bear an heir at all. It was Miss Heredith's constant regret that Phil had not married some nice girl of the county, in his own station of life, instead of a London girl. And now she was unwilling to wear the ancestral pearls, and was l...

The Moon Rock (1922) is Australian mystery writer Arthur J. Rees' locked-room conundrum. In fact, the room -- the murder scene -- not only is locked from the inside, but also two hundred feet up the cold wall of Flint House. And the house looms on the edge of a cliff in Cornwall. Slip, and a falling body would strike the pale Moon Rock and its legend of doomed love. "A lonely, weird place," Scotland Yard's Det. Barrant sums it up, and that's even before he finds out what happened. The dece...

When Harry Marsland was caught in a sudden down pour he sought shelter at Cliff Farm. Met at the door by a young woman clearly expecting someone else he is only too glad to get inside to wait out the storm. When they hear a noise upstairs in the deserted house they investigate only to discover the body of the farm's owner, Frank Lumsden, dead of a gunshot wound. Who then, killed Lumsden, and why? Who was the woman expecting and did she have any roll in the murder? These are the questions t...

High Court Justice Sir Horace Fewbanks found shot dead in his Hampstead home, a butler with a criminal past, a scorned lover and a hint of scandal. These are the elements of the Hampstead Mystery that Detective Inspector Chippenfield of Scotland Yard must unravel with the assistance of the ambitious Detective Rolfe. But will he be able to sort out the tangled threads of this case and arrest the culprit before he is upstaged by the celebrated gentleman detective Crewe. Follow the details of...

An incredible collection of the world's best classic mystery novels, proudly presented by Serapis Classics! Featuring: THE ABANDONED ROOM, by Wadsworth Camp THE SHRIEKING PIT, by Arthur Rees THE NEW TENANT, by E. Phillips Oppenheim THE ADVENTURES OF JIMMIE DALE, by Frank Packard THE HOUSE OF A THOUSAND CANDLES, by Meredith Nicholson THE DOCTOR HIS WIFE AND THE CLOCK, by Anna Katharine Green THE MYSTERY OF THE SECRET BAND, by Edith Lavell

Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence. Houses grow old like the race of men; the process is not less inevitable, though slower; in both, decay is hastened by events as well as by the passage of Time.The moat-house was not so old as English country-houses go, but it had aged quickly...

The storm had descended swiftly, sweeping in suddenly from the sea, driving across the downs to the hills at high speed, blotting out the faint rays of a crescent moon and hiding the country-side beneath a pall of blackness, which was forked at intervals by flashes of lightning. The darkness was so impenetrable, and the fury of the storm so fierce, that Harry Marsland pulled his hat well over his eyes and bent over his horse's neck to shield his face from the driving rain, trusting to the ...

When Harry Marsland was caught in a sudden down pour he sought shelter at Cliff Farm. Met at the door by a young woman clearly expecting someone else he is only too glad to get inside to wait out the storm. When they hear a noise upstairs in the deserted house they investigate only to discover the body of the farm's owner, Frank Lumsden, dead of a gunshot wound. Who then, killed Lumsden, and why? Who was the woman expecting and did she have any roll in the murder? These are the questions t...

Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence. Houses grow old like the race of men; the process is not less inevitable, though slower; in both, decay is hastened by events as well as by the passage of Time.The moat-house was not so old as English country-houses go, but it had aged quickly ...

"The Moon Rock" is Australian mystery writer Arthur J. Rees' locked-room conundrum. In fact, the room -- the murder scene -- not only is locked from the inside, but also two hundred feet up the cold wall of Flint House. And the house looms on the edge of a cliff in Cornwall. Slip, and a falling body would strike the pale Moon Rock and its legend of doomed love. "A lonely, weird place," Scotland Yard's Det. Barrant sums it up, and that's even before he finds out what happened. The deceased ...