

Arthur J. Rees was a 20th century author best known for writing mystery novels like The Single Clue and The Hampstead Mystery.




The Hand in the DarkBy Arthur J Rees



Delve into the shadowy world of "The Hand in the Dark," a classic of detective fiction by Arthur J. Rees. This compelling mystery unfolds as a perplexing crime demands investigation, drawing readers into a web of suspense and intrigue. A timeless tale of detection, the book...

Delve into the shadowy world of "The Hand in the Dark," a classic of detective fiction by Arthur J. Rees. This compelling mystery unfolds as a perplexing crime demands investigation, drawing readers into a web of suspense and intrigue. A timeless tale of detection, the book...





Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence. Houses grow old like the race of...

For the twentieth time Miss Meredith asked herself why her nephew had fallen in love with this unknown girl, Violet, from London, who loathed the country. From Miss Heredith's point of view, a girl who smoked and talked slang lacked any sense of the dignity of the high position...

For the twentieth time Miss Meredith asked herself why her nephew had fallen in love with this unknown girl, Violet, from London, who loathed the country. From Miss Heredith's point of view, a girl who smoked and talked slang lacked any sense of the dignity of the high position...

Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence

Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence. Houses grow old like the race of...

Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence. Houses grow old like the race of...

A detective story above the average, though to some readers it will seem too long drawn out and to others too tragic. A complicated crime is brought to light, entirely by the deductive method.

For the twentieth time Miss Meredith asked herself why her nephew had fallen in love with this unknown girl, Violet, from London, who loathed the country. From Miss Heredith's point of view, a girl who smoked and talked slang lacked any sense of the dignity of the high position...

Excerpt: Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence. Houses grow old like the...

Seen in the sad glamour of an English twilight, the old moat-house, emerging from the thin mists which veiled the green flats in which it stood, conveyed the impression of a habitation falling into senility, tired with centuries of existence. Houses grow old like the race of...
