The Templeton case

Tom Gale leaned heavily on the low bulwarks of the little schooner _Lucy_, his arms folded upon the aforesaid bulwarks, his short, black clay pipe in his mouth, and his eyes fix...

Tom Gale, with the comfortable sensation of the replenishment of his inner man with a double portion of his favourite beverage, went back on board the _Lucy_ and resumed his att...

Jim Webb, “crew” of the yacht _Firefly_, came walking briskly over the fields from Frattenbury the next morning. In the clear autumn air he heard the Cathedral chimes strike the...

Canon Fittleworth had only just returned to his house in the Close from the early Sunday service in the Cathedral, and had sat down to his breakfast with his wife and daughter....

“Mrs. Yates,” said Detective-Sergeant Colson, as he finished a modest meal, served at his request in the “Mariner’s Arms,” “I am thinking of making my quarters here, at all even...

Colson walked away from the police station till he came to a shop. It was Sunday and, of course, the shutters were up, but he rang the bell at the side door. It was opened by th...

The coroner arrived a little early, and was standing on the shore with the Chief Constable and the superintendent, the latter pointing out to him the scene of the crime.

Maude Wingrave seated herself at the breakfast table and poured out a cup of tea. It was a tiny room, high up in a block of flats, looking over Battersea Park. The girl who sat...

The crowd that had assembled at the inquest at Marsh Quay loitered for a while discussing the one important topic. Newspaper men were busy with notebook and camera. The removal...

Harold Grayson came down to breakfast on the Tuesday morning in the little cottage where he had found a lodging in the downland village of Linderton, some four or five miles nor...

One can only suppose that the morbid curiosity which always attracts a crowd of people to the burial of a suicide or victim of a murder repays the onlookers in some sense or oth...

Colson nodded. He took one of the Canon’s cigars out of the box, looked at it, put it in his case, and carefully examined the label on the outside of the box.

“Good morning,” he said. Then he turned to Colson, who was standing near. “Come along, Colson. You and I won’t disturb that young couple—and I hope nobody else will. We’ve both...

“The superintendent at Frattenbury has been good enough to send me a private report,” he replied. “I don’t think I’m betraying their confidence when I tell you that so far they...

The newspaper paragraphs about the murder at Marsh Quay dwindled in length. There were several scathing leading articles dealing with the inefficiency of the local police, and e...

The coroner, in re-opening the inquiry, intimated that only one witness of any importance would be heard, and that, with the full consent of the police, who would not, he unders...

“You’ve just got to solve it, Bob, and you’re going to solve it,” said Mrs. Colson that night to her somewhat disconsolate husband. “And that for two reasons: first because such...

The advertisement inquiring for news of the whereabouts of Ezra Grice, some time of Frattenbury, was duly inserted in _The Times_ and other daily papers. The Chief Constable dem...

Anthony Crosby, busy man as he was, found a little time to follow up, from a natural curiosity, the strange letter that Reginald Templeton had addressed to him. As the letter ha...

The Canon rose from his seat as the three policemen entered. Neither of them was in uniform. Major Renshaw, a punctilious man, wore evening dress. He always dressed for dinner.

It was an extraordinary story that Ezra Grice had to tell. Briefly, the first part of it amounted to this. Twenty years ago he had been clerk in Francis Norwood’s office. Norwoo...