Good Detective Books Novels & Stories

As always, his name was splashed across the headlines in bold letters. “FBI’s Golden Detective Cracks Another Case: Charles Gregory Stays One Step Ahead of Crime” I recall skimming through the article, already knowing what it will say: "Gregory’s instincts and exceptional dedication have once again led to a major breakthrough in a case that baffled authorities for months. Insiders at the Bureau describe him as a force to be reckoned with, a man who sees what others don’t. His latest victory is evidence of his unmatched brilliance.” I remember tossing the paper aside and leaning back, laughing. Unmatched brilliance? Sure.

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.

“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.”

Instead, I grabbed some crumpled scraps from a coworker's desk and started scribbling on those. By dawn, one of my teammates walked in and jumped. I looked dead tired, but my eyes were on fire. "I found the flaw the killer left in yesterday's case." The room lit up. I broke it down during the drive to the suspect's place. "It's the knife. The angle, the serration—it doesn't match the others..." But the second I stepped outside the Bureau, my phone blew up. I checked it—and froze. [Rising Star Detective Blake Solves Another Cold Case—813 Serial Killer in Custody!]

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.

The teacher scolds us both, but all I can hear and see is his smile. He fixed me, he’s my serotonin, my very own drug. My feeling for him feels illegal, but he’ll still be my favorite crime. “Mr. Alex Sheperd and Mr. Conan Gray, this is not the time for chit chatting, now answer my question or you’ll meet the principal. “ We faced each other with a smile on our faces. We grabbed our bags and willingly took our punishment. This shocked our professor as he stopped talking until we left the room. We didn’t answer his question, it’s not like we could answer it anyway.

He obviously loved thrillers as most of the books were made up with novels by Ian Fleming, Desmond Bagley, Hammond Innes, Ian Rankin, Michael Robotham and Alistair MacLean. My mobile sounded and I moved out on to the landing. Caller ID: Kimberley. “Hello, darling,” I said into the phone. “I need a drink,” she explained. “Bad morning?” “Ever since that break-in you investigated, Bio-Preparations insist on having an audit every month,” she said breathlessly. “Why have they got to have it on a bloody Saturday?” “You poor thing,” I said soothingly, feeling partially responsible. “So how about the Waggoner’s Rest?” She persisted. “I’ve just arrived back at the quay.”

Maybe I can read something to pass the time and occupy my mind for a bit. 0 I read through their titles and they definitely have a favorite genre. ‘The Hound of the Baskervilles’, ‘Murder on the Orient Express’, ‘The Woman in White’, ‘The Maltese Falcon’. I sense a mystery theme here and I wonder if it’s Stefan or his wife that’s the fan. I keep looking when I see a book that is quite out of place. ‘What To Expect: A Mother’s Guide To Her First Pup’ 0

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

He bowed slightly and left. The inspector general heaved a sigh. He hated to see his officers so clueless. But something was strange; Bob had seemed unbothered. All his years in the bureau, Inspector Akhere has seen many smart and creative detectives but he has seen none like Bob Andrews. Smart, creative, fast, and alert, Bob had built a name for himself as the Detective of Detectives. He used the brains of other detectives and he gets positive results. At first, the inspector felt he was just another control freak, but after a close study of the man he finally understood him.