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Mary Roberts Rinehart. The Bat & The Circular Staircase
The Bat & The Circular Staircase
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Table of Contents
The Circular Staircase
I Take a Country House
A Link Cuff-Button
Mr. John Bailey Appears
Where is Halsey?
Gertrude's Engagement
In the East Corridor
A Sprained Ankle
The Other Half of the Line
Just Like a Girl
The Traders' Bank
Halsey Makes a Capture
One Mystery for Another
Louise
An Egg-Nog and a Telegram
Liddy Gives the Alarm
In the Early Morning
A Hint of Scandal
A Hole in the Wall
Concerning Thomas
Doctor Walker's Warning
Fourteen Elm Street
A Ladder Out of Place
While the Stables Burned
Flinders
A Visit from Louise
Halsey's Disappearance
Who is Nina Carrington?
A Tramp and the Toothache
A Scrap of Paper
When Churchyards Yawn
Between Two Fireplaces
Anne Watson's Story
At the Foot of the Stairs
The Odds and Ends
The Bat
Chapter One. The Shadow of the Bat
Chapter Two. The Indomitable Miss Van Gorder
Chapter Three. Pistol Practice
Chapter Four. The Storm Gathers
Chapter Five. Alopecia and Rubeola
Chapter Six. Detective Anderson Takes Charge
Chapter Seven. Cross-Questions and Crooked Answers
Chapter Eight. The Gleaming Eye
Chapter Nine. A Shot in the Dark
Chapter Ten. The Phone Call from Nowhere
Chapter Eleven. Billy Practices Jiu-Jitsu
Chapter Twelve "I Didn't Kill Him."
Chapter Thirteen. The Blackened Bag
Chapter Fourteen. Handcuffs
Chapter Fifteen. The Sign of the Bat
Chapter Sixteen. The Hidden Room
Chapter Seventeen. Anderson Makes an Arrest
Chapter Eighteen. The Bat Still Flies
Chapter Nineteen. Murder on Murder
Chapter Twenty "He Is—The Bat!"
Chapter Twenty-One. Quite a Collection
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Mary Roberts Rinehart
The Bat
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That afternoon the Armstrongs' housekeeper, a youngish good-looking woman, applied for Mrs. Ralston's place, and I was glad enough to take her. She looked as though she might be equal to a dozen of Liddy, with her snapping black eyes and heavy jaw. Her name was Anne Watson, and I dined that evening for the first time in three days.
She had a golf-stick in her hand, and she said she had found it on the lawn. There was nothing unusual about it, but it occurred to me that a golf-stick with a metal end might have been the object that had scratched the stairs near the card-room. I took it from her, and sent her up for dry garments. Her daylight courage and self-importance, and her shuddering delight in the mystery, irritated me beyond words. After I left her I made a circuit of the building. Nothing seemed to be disturbed: the house looked as calm and peaceful in the morning sun as it had the day I had been coerced into taking it. There was nothing to show that inside had been mystery and violence and sudden death.
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