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The Queen of Mystery has come to Harper Collins! Agatha Christie, the acknowledged mistress of suspense—creator of indomitable sleuth Miss Marple, meticulous Belgian detective Hercule Poirot, and so many other unforgettable characters—brings her entire oeuvre of ingenious whodunits, locked room mysteries, and perplexing puzzles to Harper Paperbacks…including one of her own ten favorite novels, Towards Zero, which puts Superintendent Battle and Inspector Leach on the case as they investigate the murder of an elderly widow.
at all. At the Marine, Mrs. Mackay understood my requirements perfectly. I had the same rooms every year - and there was hardly ever a change in the service. And the cooking was excellent -quite excellent." "What about trying Saltcreek? There's rather a nice old-fashioned hotel there. The Balmoral Court. Tell you who keeps it. Couple of the name of Rogers. She used be cook to old Lord Mounthead - he had the best dinners in London. She married the butler and they run this hotel now. It sounds to
I fell in love with Nevile and married him -" "And he's a jolly good fellow - and so say all of us!" "Are you trying to annoy me?" She turned her head as she asked the question. He smiled - and presently she returned his smile. "How's the summer going, Kay?" "So, so. Lovely yachting trip. I'm rather tired of all this tennis business." "How long have you got of it? Another month?" "Yes. Then in September we go to Gull's Point for a fortnight." "I shall be at the Easterhead Bay Hotel," said
deeply. Someone in Mr. Treves' hearing had referred to Nevile as "that lucky beggar Strange - got everything in the world anyone could wish for." Yet he did not look, at this moment, at all a happy man. Thomas Royde, with Nevile's re-entry, seemed to feel that his duties as host were over. He left the room without attempting to say good night, and his walk was slightly more hurried than usual. It was almost an escape. "A delightful evening," said Mr. Treves politely as he set down his glass.
we come in here?" He threw open the dining-room door. Lunch had been cleared away by Hurstall. "I want to ask you something, Superintendent. Surely you don't, you can't still think that this - this awful crime was done by one of us? It must have been someone from outside! Some maniac!" "You may not be far wrong there. Miss Aldin. Maniac is a word that describes this criminal very well, if I'm not mistaken. But not an outsider." Her eyes opened very wide. "Do you mean that someone in this
glove I produced just now? It's her glove, all right. That was the right hand, here's the left." He drew it out of his pocket and put it down on the table. It was crumpled and stained with rusty brown patches. Nevile said with a note of fear in his voice: "What's that on it?" "Blood, Mr. Strange," said Battle firmly. "And you'll note this, it's the left hand. Now, Mrs. Audrey Strange is left-handed. I noted that first thing when I saw her sitting with her coffee cup in her right hand and her