The Draycott Murder Mystery: A Golden Age Mystery

There was something about those hands, with their strangely crisped fingers, as though they had been arrested in the very act of closing, that somehow gave the lie to the woman's attitude of sleep.

A howling gale ... A lonely farmhouse ... the tread of a mysterious stranger ... and then the corpse of a beautiful blonde, seemingly stopped in the act of writing.

This is all a bit much for local bobby PC Gunnet, especially when it seems the dead - and aristocratic - woman shouldn't even have bee...