"Jack Mann - Her Ways Are Death" - читать интересную книгу автора (Mann Jack)

Her Ways Are Death
by Jack Mann
The blood of the dark and fearsome Valkyrs ran in her veinsтАж And he was the master of
modern necromancyтАж Which would survive when the two magics clashed, as they surely must?



An A\NN/A digital back-up release.
Notes and proofing history

OVER LUNCH at The Three Choughs at Yeovil, Gregory George Gordon Green read through again
the letter that had started him on his journey from London. Had he been in any hurry to complete that
journey, he would have taken the Dorchester road out from Salisbury, but the letter suggested an
appointment that gave him plenty of time, and, on the word of his friend Tony Briggs of the Foreign
Office, the cuisine and cellar of The Three Choughs justified one in making a point of lunching there. So,
over coffee and a spot of liqueur brandy in the dining roomтАФand a cigarette, of courseтАФGees took out
the letter and read againтАФ

Troyarbour Hall, Blandford, Dorset.
Messrs. Gees (G. Green, Esq.)
Confidential Agents 37
Little Oakfield Street London, S.W.I.

Dear Sir,

I have been recommended to you by Mr. Hunter, of Denlandham, Shropshire, whose name and address will, I believe, be
easy for you to recall to memory. Mr. Hunter, on hearing the story I had to tell him, at once recommended me to you, as
one who had carried out for him a most unusual and difficult series of investigations and brought them to a highly
satisfactory end.

I should be glad if you could see your way to call on me at the above address at the earliest possible date, with a view to
giving me, at the least, your advice, and if possible your aid in connection with a problem which I have no intention of
putting in writing. If you can see your way to visiting me, not before mid-afternoon (which would involve putting up for
the night, probably) I should be happy to pay all your expenses, and, in addition, the two guineas which I understand is
your fee for an initial consultation.

Yours very truly,

J. St. Pol Naylor.

Gregory George Gordon Green, otherwise known as тАЬGees,тАЭ refolded the letter and put it in his
pocket. It was undated, he had noted on first reading it. If he had not been naturally observantтАФwhich
he wasтАФthe two years he had spent in the police force would have taught him to note trifles, whether
apparent or real. In actual fact, the letter was a week old. He had had what looked like another
promising investigation on hand, and thus had not troubled to answer this communication until, this same
autumn morning, he had found himself at a loose end owing to the fizzling outтАФas he would have
expressed itтАФof that other affair. And so he had wired J. St. Pol Naylor, to announce that he would
arrive at 3:30 to 4 p.m. Whether that was convenient or not to this possible client was not a point over
which Gees troubled himself. If people wanted to consult him. they could fit it in at such time as he chose.