Best Detective Mystery Books Novels & Stories

The officer taked the business card, "Albert- Detective." Inside a large garden filled with colorful flowers, next to an artificial lake that can be seen from afar, where schools of fish are swimming, one young man is looking at the scenery around his house when he suddenly hears a ting ting sound. He gently opens his laptop to check the inbox, "Hi! Do you still remember me? It's been a long time since we worked together. I really need your help. I'm sure this case won't let you down- Vincent" He gets up and slowly walks to his huge 4-story bookshelf, climbs a folding ladder and reaches for a book "Criminal Psychology." He smiles and wonders: "What's interesting about your place?" He looks

I left the house and rode straight to Triumph Hotel. I booked a room directly across from 701. We had plenty of cameras at home. I brought a small one with me. I was going to catch them together. Ten o'clock. No one. Eleven. Midnight. Nothing was going the way I expected. I stayed up until dawn, my eyes burning. The door across the hall never opened. Chloe never showed up. Had I been wrong? Did she really not betray me? Were those messages and photos all in my head?

"A... used one?" "A romantic mystery," you said, showing her the front. "It's from the seventies, and is about a female detective who gets involved with the man who hires her to investigate his wife's murder. I'm hoping it's got Castle vibes." She broke into a smile, taking the book from you and turning it over in her hands. Then she kissed you again, on her tiptoes. "Has anyone told you that you're the sweetest?" she asked. "Not today," you smiled.

“Just don’t disappear too far. I want both of you back later.” Quinn nodded absently before walking away from the alley, Damian following close behind. The rain from earlier had left the streets damp and shining beneath the grey morning sky. Quinn slowed near the quieter side of town, finally stopping beside an old bookstore she vaguely remembered from years ago. For a minute neither of them spoke. Then Damian glanced sideways at her. “You know, normal people usually deal with emotional trauma by sleeping.” Quinn crossed her arms lightly. “And normal people usually don’t follow detectives into murder investigations.”

Most things are about detectives and all their boring stuff but something tells me to go through it because I might know a thing or two. I've opened almost all the books on the first shelf. Turns out detective books are not so bad. I also passed out my time by checking some of the murder novels on the shelve. One really caught my interest. Dying to call you by Elaine Viet. It's about a girl finding her sister's murderer and all that.

In the end, Meredith and George decided to arrange a meeting with the police detective assigned to Helena’s case, Detective Sergio. He was a tall, lean man with clean-cut hazelnut hair. Alice could make out the wrinkles in his forehead and cheeks as he settled himself in front of her. She watched the man remove his black coat and placed it on the table before taking out a medium-sized notepad and a pen. Alice loved comic books about detectives. Her favorite was James Gordon; he was Batman’s acquaintance and a respectable captain of the Gotham City Police Department. Whenever she saw a detective, she could not help but be mesmerized by their badges and work.

That would be emotional suicide. I moved away from the romance section quickly, like it might contaminate me somehow. Crime thriller. I'd read a crime thriller. Something with murder and investigations and absolutely zero sexual tension. That was safer. Much safer. I browsed the mystery section and pulled out a book I'd heard good things about. A detective novel set in London. Dark, gritty, complex. Perfect. I carried it to one of the comfortable chairs by the window and settled in. The chair was incredibly comfortable—soft leather that seemed to mold around me. There was a small side table with a reading lamp. A footstool I could put my feet up on.

The rest of the day seems boring so, I decided to read a book. "Let's see what I got here? I started looking for a storybook that will get my attention. Nope. Not this one. Yes finally found you " Sherlock Holmes. My favorite detective of all time. This book always inspired me to write a mystery novel. I tried many times, but nothing came to my mind. So I decided to give a break and concentrate on other things. I was a very very big fan of mystery and detective novels than romance and action. "If I started reading now, then I can finish this entire book by evening. The stories looked really interesting." I thought while flipping the pages.

“Esmerelda, what a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” I don’t know who was more shocked by the words that poured forth from that handsome mouth with eye catching straight and -dentist whitened- teeth. From the look of shock on Melanie and Nora’s face, it was clear that they hadn’t expected such a comment any more than I had. “Esmerelda Sleuth is her full name,” Melanie giggled, with emphasis on my last name of Sleuth. “Here’s the best of it. She’s an investigator! Get it? Esmerelda Sleuth is a sleuth!”

5 MINUTES LATER Lucy dropped the file back on the table “I’m done” “Hmm, so what could you deduce from the report? “ Lucy smiled “the killer was probably someone the victim knew since no form of struggle was recorded in the report and at the victim apartment there was no form of forced entry, so we can assume the killer is someone who the victim knew or is even close to since the killer was let into her bedroom, The killer is a drinker since particles of glasses that contained whiskey was found in between her flesh, so we can say that a whiskey glass bottle is the weapon of murder, The killer is obviously a special must probably a rogue special and the toxin found on her body was probably fr