Found 14,922 results for "Murder -- Investigation -- Fiction"
by Agatha Christie
I was standing at the window of Poirot's rooms looking out idly on the street below.
by Agatha Christie
IT was in June of 1935 that I came home from my ranch in South America for a stay of about six months.
by Agatha Christie
It is difficult to know quite where to begin this story, but I have fixed my choice on a certain Wednesday at luncheon a...
by Agatha Christie
IN the hall of the Tigris Palace Hotel in Baghdad a hospital nurse was finishing a letter.
by Agatha Christie
I believe that a well-known anecdote exists to the effect that a young writer, determined to make the commencement of hi...
by Agatha Christie
Between 7:30 and 8:30 every morning except Sundays, Johnnie Butt made the round of the village of Chipping Cleghorn on h...
by Agatha Christie
MRS. Ferrars died on the night of the 16th-17th September-a Thursday.
by Agatha Christie
ERANO LE CINQUE di una mattina invernale, in Siria.
by Agatha Christie
STEPHEN pulled up the collar of his coat as he walked briskly along the platform.
by Agatha Christie
The intense interest aroused in the public by what was known at the time as "The Styles Case" has now somewhat subsided.
by Agatha Christie
AT 6:13 A.M. on a Friday morning Lucy Angkatell's big blue eyes opened upon another day, and as always, she was at once ...
by Agatha Christie
Hercule Poirot looked with interest and appreciation at the young woman who was being ushered into the room.
by Agatha Christie
MR. Satterthwaite sat on the terrace of Crow's Nest and watched his host, Sir Charles Cartwright, climbing up the path f...
by Truman Capote
Das Städtchen Holcomb liegt auf der Weizenhochebene von West Kansas, eine weite einsame Gegend, die selbst für die ander...
by Agatha Christie
MR. Morley was not in the best of tempers at breakfast.
by Agatha Christie
I first came to know Sophia Leonides in Egypt towards the end of the war.
by Agatha Christie
WHO is there who has not felt a sudden startled pang at reliving an old experience or feeling an old emotion?
by Agatha Christie
OLD Lanscombe moved totteringly from room to room, pulling up the blinds.