Jean Stine - The Legendary Detectives II - 8 Classic Novelettes Featuring the World

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SUPERB COLLECTION OF CLASSIC MYSTERY TALES The Legendary Detectives II is a real treat for aficionados of classic detective fiction: Eight tales of the greatest fictional sleuths who prowled in search of murder and mystery through the era of gaslight and hansom cabs. A follow-up to the bestselling e-book, The Legendary Detectives, grand treats await inside. To wit: the rarest adventure of that legendary blind detective, Max Carrados, "The Bunch of Violets," never reprinted in any Carrados collection. Then for lovers of the exotic, Mr. Commissioner Sanders untangles a web of intrigue along the remote outposts of the Congo River, in "The Ghost Walker." The exotic as well as the scientific are in display in "The Silent Bullet," the very first story to feature that Golden Age scientific sleuth, Craig Kennedy. The exotic is also front and center in "The Headless Mummies," an adventure of Fu Manchu creator Sax Rohmer's extraordinary detective Moris Klaw. Next is a pair of tales featuring the two most famous brains among gaslight detectives: the Man in the Corner in "The York Mystery," and The Thinking Machine in "The Great Auto Mystery." Next, that inimitable, priest-detective, Father Brown, tackles the case of "The Head of Caesar." Included is the last adventure of the world's greatest detective, "His Last Bow: An Episode from the War Service of Sherlock Holmes." The aging sleuth is dragged from retirement to match wits with the Huns master-spy in the darkest days of World War I, in this story recorded by his creator, Arthur Conan Doyle. There are hours of mystery reading pleasure in this exclusive e-book, selected and introduced by Jean Marie Stine.

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"What time do you want to get there?"

"Darragh's? Well, I left that open. Of course I couldn't promise until I had seen you. Anyway, not until after dinner, I said."

"That makes it quite simple, then," declared Carrados. "Stay and have dinner here, and afterwards we will go on to Darragh's together instead of going to the theater."

"That's most terribly kind of you," replied Hulse. "But won't it be rather a pity – the tickets, I mean, and so forth?"

"There are no tickets as it happens," said Carrados. "I left that over until tonight. And I have always wanted to meet a ju-jitsu champion. Quite providential, isn't it?"

It was nearly nine o'clock, and seated in the drawing room of his furnished house in Densham Gardens, affecting to read an evening paper, Mr. Darragh was plainly ill at ease. The strokes of the hour, sounded by the little gilt clock on the mantelpiece, seemed to mark the limit of his patience. A muttered word escaped him and he looked up with a frown.

"It was nine that Hulse was to be here by, wasn't it, Violet?" he asked.

Miss Darragh, who had been regarding him for some time in furtive anxiety, almost jumped at the simple question.

"Oh, yes, Hugh – about nine, that is. Of course he had to-"

"Yes, yes," interrupted Darragh irritably; "we've heard all that. And Sims," he continued, more for the satisfaction of voicing his annoyance than to engage in conversation, "swore by everything that we should have that coat by eight at the very latest. My God! what rotten tools one has to depend on!"

"Perhaps-" began Violet timidly, and stopped at his deepening scowl.

"Yes?" said Darragh, with a deadly smoothness in his voice. "Yes, Violet; pray continue. You were about to say-"

"It was really nothing, Hugh," she pleaded. "Nothing at all."

"Oh, yes, Violet, I am sure that you have some helpful little suggestion to make," he went on in the same silky, deliberate way. Even when he was silent his unspoken thoughts seemed to be lashing her with bitterness, and she turned painfully away to pick up the paper he had flung aside. "The situation, Kato," resumed Darragh, addressing himself to the third occupant of the room, "is bluntly this: If Sims isn't here with that coat before young Hulse arrives, all our carefully-thought-out plan, a month's patient work, and about the last both of our cash and credit, simply go to the devil!… and Violet wants to say that perhaps Mr. Sims forgot to wind his watch last night or poor Mrs. Sims' cough is worse… Proceed, Violet; don't be diffident."

The man addressed as "Kato" knocked a piece off the chessboard he was studying and stooped to pick it up again before, he replied. Then he looked from one to the other with a face singularly devoid of expression.

"Perhaps. Who says?" he replied in his quaintly ordered phrases. "If it is to be, my friend, it will be."

"Besides, Hugh," put in Violet, with a faint dash of spirit, "it isn't really quite so touch-and-go as that. If Sims comes before Hulse has left, Kato can easily slip out and change coats then."

Darragh was already on his restless way towards the door. Apparently he did not think it worth while to reply to either of the speakers, but his expression, especially when his eyes turned to Violet, was one of active contempt. As the door closed after him, Kato sprang to his feet and his impassive look gave place to one almost of menace. His hands clenched unconsciously and with slow footsteps he seemed to be drawn on in pursuit. A little laugh, mirthless and bitter, from the couch, where Violet had seated herself, recalled him.

"Is it true, Katie," she asked idly, "that you are really the greatest ju-jitsuist outside Japan?"

"Polite other people say so," replied the Japanese, his voice at once gentle and deprecating.

"And yet you cannot keep down even your little temper!"

Kato thought this over for a moment; then he crossed to the couch and stood regarding the girl with his usual impenetrable gravity.

"On contrary, I can keep down my temper very well," he said seriously. "I can keep it so admirably that I, whose ancestors were Samurai and very high nobles, have been able to become thief and swindler and" – his moving hand seemed to beat the air for a phrase – "and lowdown dog and still to live. What does anything it matter that is connected with me alone? But there are three things that do matter – three that I do not allow myself to be insulted and still to live, my emperor, my country, and – you. And so," concluded Kato Kuromi, in a somewhat lighter vein, now and then, as you say, my temper gets the better of me slightly."

"Poor Katie," said Violet, by no means disconcerted at this delicate avowal. "I really think that I am sorrier for you than I am for Hugh, or even for myself. But it's no good becoming romantic at this time of day, my dear man." The lines of her still quite young and attractive face hardened in keeping with her thoughts. "I suppose I've had my chance. We're all of a pattern and I'm as crooked as any of you now."

"No, no," protested Kato loyally; "not you of yourself. It is we bad fellows round you. Darragh ought never to have brought you into these things, and then to despise you for your troubles – that is why my temper now and then ju-jitsues me. This time it is the worst of all – the young man Hulse, for whose benefit you pass yourself as the sister of your husband. How any mortal man possessing you-"

"Another cigarette, Katie, please," interrupted Violet, for the monotonous voice had become slightly more penetrating than was prudent. "That's all in the way of business, my friend. We aren't a firm of family solicitors. Jack Hulse had to be fascinated and I – well, if there is any hitch I don't think that it can be called my fault," and she demonstrated for his benefit the bewitching smile that had so effectually enslaved the ardent Beringer.

"Fascinated!" retorted Kato, fixing on the word jealously, and refusing to be pacified by the bribery of the smile. "Yes, so infatuated has become this very susceptible young man that you lead him about like pet lamb at the end of blue ribbon. Business? Perhaps. But how have you been able to do this, Violet? And your husband – Darragh – to him simply business, very good business – and he forces you to do this full of shame thing and mocks at you for reward."

"Kato, Kato-" urged Violet, breaking through his scornful laughter.

"I am what your people call yellow man," continued Kato relentlessly, "and you are the one white woman of my dreams – dreams that I would not lift finger to spoil by trying to make real. But if I should have been Darragh not ten thousand times the ten thousand pounds that Hulse carries would tempt me to lend you to another man's arms."

"Oh, Katie, how horrid you can be!"

"Horrid for me to say, but 'business' for you to do! How have you discovered so much, Violet – what Hulse carries, where he carries it, the size and shape the packet makes, even the way he so securely keeps it? 'Business' eh? Your husband cares not so long as we succeed. But I, Kato Kuromi, care." He went nearer so that his mere attitude was menacing as he stood over her, and his usually smooth voice changed to a tone she had never heard there before. "How have you learned all this? How, unless you and Hulse-"

"Sssh!" she exclaimed in sharp dismay as her ear caught a sound beyond.

"-oh yes," continued Kato easily, his voice instantly as soft and unconcerned as ever, "it will be there, you mean. The views in the valley of Kedu are considered very fine and the river itself-"

It was Darragh whom Violet had heard approaching, and he entered the room in a much better temper than he had left it. At the door he paused a moment to encourage someone forward – a seedy, diffident man of more than middle age, who carried a brown-paper parcel.

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