Books with author Susan Fletcher

“Mr. Fletcher is a master of plot, and he never goes beyond the bounds of reason in its procedure and development. He, moreover, can write the English language as a vital means to the end both of narrative and description, and he never fails to show that he is its master. It is therefore a pleasure to read his stories, not merely for their entertaining qualities, but also for the agreeable appeal of their manner and their style.”

Excerpt: "The railway station stood in the midst of an apparent solitude, and from its one long platform there was no sign of any human habitation. A stranger, looking around him in passing that way, might well have wondered why a station should be found there at all; nevertheless, the board which figured prominently above the white palings suggested the near presence of three places; Wellsby, Meadhope, and Simonstower and a glance at a map of the county would have sufficed to show him that three villages of the names there indicated lay hidden amongst the surrounding woods, one to the east and two to the west of the railway."

Excerpt: "American tourists, sure appreciators of all that is ancient and picturesque in England, invariably come to a halt, holding their breath in a sudden catch of wonder, as they pass through the half-ruinous gateway which admits to the Close of Wrychester. Nowhere else in England is there a fairer prospect of old-world peace. There before their eyes, set in the centre of a great green sward, fringed by tall elms and giant beeches, rises the vast fabric of the thirteenth-century Cathedral, its high spire piercing the skies in which rooks are for ever circling and calling. The time-worn stone, at a little distance delicate as lacework, is transformed at different hours of the day into shifting shades of colour, varying from grey to purple: the massiveness of the great nave and transepts contrasts impressively with the gradual tapering of the spire, rising so high above turret and clerestory that it at last becomes a mere line against the ether."

- Includes detailed author biograpghy- Includes foreword with historical context- Not a scanned version! - Handcrafted and typographically edited edition of a classic!A mysterious one-eyed stranger, a midnight meeting at a lonely spot on the Scottish border, the secret password "Panama", and a corpse! This is the situation Hugh Moneylaws, a young law clerk finds himself facing. Who murdered the man he was sent to meet, and why? With the only two men who knew the purpose of the meeting dead, it would seem a puzzle that would never be solved. Yet to save himself and his fiancée, Hugh must solve the puzzle of the "Dead Men's Money".This classic book was edited and published by Resurrected Press. Included in this book is a new, introductory foreword discussing the story, the times, and the influences that went into the tale, adding historical context to the book. Author biographies are also included, as are illustrations, when appropriate. These are not scanned versions of the originals, but handcrafted, quality-checked and edited books meant to be enjoyed! Resurrected Press is dedicated to bringing high quality classic books back to the readers who enjoy them. Please search Amazon for "Resurrected Press" to find both print and Kindle editions of all of our books!

Excerpt: "Look here! Rothwell said. You'd better go and make inquiry at Northborough. See if you can track him. Something must be wrong -- perhaps seriously wrong. You don't quite understand, do you, Mr. Copplestone? he went on, giving the younger man a sharp glance. You see, we know Mr. Oliver so well -- we've both been with him a good many years. He's a model of system, regularity, punctuality, and all the rest of it. In the ordinary course of events, wherever he spent yesterday, he'd have been sure to turn up at his rooms at the 'Angel' hotel last night, and he'd have walked in here this morning at half-past twelve. As he hasn't done either, why, then, something unusual has happened. Stafford, you'd better get a move on. -- Wait a minute, said Stafford. He turned again to the groups behind him, repeating his question. -- Has anybody anything to tell? he asked anxiously. We've just heard that Mr. Oliver left his hotel at Northborough yesterday morning at eleven o'clock, alone, walking. Has anybody any idea of any project, any excursion, that he had in mind?"

When an elderly man's body is found on the steps of chambers in the Midde Temple, one of the Inns of Court, it falls to newspaperman Frank Spargo and Detective-Sergeant Rathbury to solve the crime. The murdered man was found with no money or identification, but with the address of a young barrister scrawled on a piece of paper. The Middle Temple murder case must be solved by uncovering not only the identity of the murderer, but also that of the victim.