Sir Wilton Oakes was a man of about five and forty years of age, although he looked younger, he didn’t feel like it. He had all the attributes of his ancient race – the face of a hawk, a short upper lip, and the easy manner of one who was born to be the commander of people. He recently took over the beautiful Elizabethan house that was his legacy. And now the old baronet was dead, and the man sitting at the library table reigned in his stead.
Die karminrote Jalousie: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookIm Vertrauen auf den Mörder: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookTregarthens Frau: Ein Cornwall Krimi
Fred M. White
bookDie Schwingen des Sieges: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookDer weiße Handschuh: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookDer Preis des Schweigens: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookDas Phantom-Auto: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookDas Haus am Fluss und sein Geheimnis: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookDie Ehre seines Hauses: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookHart gepresst: Roman
Fred M. White
bookEin Mann namens Paul Quentin: Krimi
Fred M. White
bookDie graue Frau: Roman
Fred M. White
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