Detective Fiction Weekly. Vol. 51, No. 2, June 28, 1930

Начало книги

Lieutenant Williams, head of the city’s murder squad, followed the sedate butler down a softly carpeted hallway, under a fall of magnificent tapestry, and through a steel door into a room he had long wished to see.

A man in a linen smock rose from an easy chair before a table and came forward with outstretched hand. He was a rather heavy man of medium Height, but his keen eyes under bushy brows gave the lie to his dull large featured face.

“Professor Wheatland?” smiled the lieutenant. “I am very much interested to see your workshop, but I’m rather curious to know what you can want with me.”

For a moment Wheatland, scientist and society man, looked gravely and appraisingly at the tall lithe figure of the young lieutenant. He was satisfied with what he saw, since it amply lived up to the reputation the officer had built for himself in the past five years, and with a smile he motioned to a chair.

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