It was obvious that the rain had spent itself with the storm, for the sky had cleared and a crescent moon shed a ghostly glitter over the dark swell of the Atlantic. ‘’The wind had died down and the air, though fresh and salty, was no longer damp-laden. Add a rather intriguing Inspector and a pair of star-crossed young lovers and you’ll get one of the finest and most entertaining mysteries of the Golden Age of Crime. Three bullets that have passed through the window, drawn curtains and a peculiar trace of footprints. A fervent lover of detective stories, he finds himself actively involved in one when the local magistrate is found dead. The Reverend Dodd, the vicar of Boscawen, a lovely village in Cornwall, is a marvellous oddball. But a lowering bank of cloud rested far away on the horizon of the sea, dark against the departing daylight.’’
‘’It was raining fitfully and gusts of wind from off the Atlantic rattles the window-frames and sought dismally among the sprinkling of gaunt pipers which surrounded the Vicarage. Publishing House: British Library Crime Classicsĭate of Publication: April 15th 2014 (first published 1935)
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