Deacon Park is where they bury the bodies. For a cold-blooded killer, a huge tract of wild land in the middle of the city can be an indispensable resource.

“I’m having a problem with something I did. I mean something I didn’t do but should’ve. And I can’t make it right. It was really bad."

“It’s all going to be just fine,” she said. “We’re going home soon, I promise.”

If I can just keep walking, I can burn off some of this nervous energy. I need to walk until I’m exhausted, until I can convince myself that this rapid, stuttering heartbeat of mine is the result of exercise.

Outwardly Seth didn’t react as he watched Mrs. Hatfield misplay the four spade contract, but inwardly he groaned. True, she made it, but most of the other pairs would make it with an overtrick.

He steals with swift, simple hands in the yellow Roman sun. The crowds are bulging, swollen, and he bobs amongst them as silent as a jellyfish.

The famous lexical semanticist Professor Edgar Nettleston had been found dead, a gunshot wound to the head.

Threatening notes are sent to a brilliant inventor, apparently from a former rival for the affections of a young lady.

The last crime of the notorious thief Flambeau was a Christmas crime, a cheery, cosy, English middle-class crime.

Hot on the trail of master criminal Flambeau, the head of the Paris police arrives in London, where he begins to notice small things out of place.

Confined to a room in an exclusive club during an important dinner, Father Brown notices some unusual sounding footsteps.

A decapitated body is found during a dinner party at the house of the Chief of the Paris Police, in the walled garden. Father Brown is a guest ...

A man is certain his friends are about to play a practical joke on him ...

A magistrate is visited by a doctor who hides a dark secret behind his penetrating pale blue eyes.

Suzanne stays at the bedside of her dying sister, who she has lived with her whole life.