[Doan and Carstairs 01] • The Doan and Carstairs Mysteries
- Authors
- Davis, Norbert
- Publisher
- Halcyon Press Ltd.
- Date
- 2010-07-21T00:00:00+00:00
- Size
- 0.40 MB
- Lang
- en
In this pulp classic, the detective duo must protect a young heiress from looming danger. A snappy, hard-boiled treat featuring one of mystery's most loved duos -- the rumpled detective Doan and his canine companion, Carstairs.
This unique edition has been spell-corrected and reformatted especially for the Kindle. It contains clear and easy-to-read chapter headings and appropriate line and page breaks. This edition is a one-of-a-kind version of the original text that represents many hours of hard work by Joust Books editors.
An excerpt from Holocaust House:
CHAPTER I.
WHERE WAS I?
WHEN DOAN WOKE up he was lying flat on his back on top of a bed with his hat pulled down over his eyes. He lay quite still for some time, listening cautiously, and then he tipped the hat up and looked around. He found to his relief that he was in his own apartment and that it was his bed he was lying on.
He sat up. He was fully dressed except for the fact that he only wore one shoe. The other one was placed carefully and precisely in the center of his bureau top.
"It would seem," said Doan to himself, "that I was inebriated last evening when I came home."
He felt no ill effects at all. He never did. It was an amazing thing and contrary to the laws of science and nature, but he had never had a hangover in his life.
He was a short, round man with a round pinkly innocent face and impossibly bland blue eyes. He had corn-yellow hair and dimples in his cheeks. At first glance--and at the second and third for that matter--he looked like the epitome of all the suckers that had ever come down the pike. He looked so harmless it was pitiful. It wasn't until you considered him for some time that you began to see that there was something wrong with the picture. He looked just a little too innocent.
"Carstairs!" he called now. "Oh, Carstairs!"
Carstairs came in through the bedroom door and stared at him with a sort of wearily resigned disgust. Carstairs was a dog--a fawn-colored Great Dane as big as a yearling calf.