The Crooked House, by Brandon 
Fleming 
 
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Fleming 
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Title: The Crooked House 
Author: Brandon Fleming 
 
Release Date: September 30, 2007 [eBook #22820] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE 
CROOKED HOUSE*** 
E-text prepared by D. Alexander and the Project Gutenberg Online 
Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) from digital 
material generously made available by Internet Archive/American 
Libraries (http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet 
Archive/American Libraries. See 
http://www.archive.org/details/crookedhouse00flemiala 
 
THE CROOKED HOUSE 
by 
BRANDON FLEMING 
 
New York Edward J. Clode 
Copyright, 1921, by Edward J. Clode Printed in the United States of 
America 
 
CONTENTS 
CHAPTER PAGE 
I A STRANGE RIDDLE 9 
II THE CROOKED HOUSE 19 
III THE ENDLESS GARDEN 33 
IV DESTRUCTION 45 
V COPPLESTONE 53 
VI THE TRAIL OF CORPSES 65 
VII TRANTER 71
VIII MRS. ASTLEY-ROLFE 80 
IX THE DANSEUSE 83 
X MR. GLUCKSTEIN 85 
XI THE CLERGYMAN 87 
XII MR. BOLSOVER 89 
XIII THE TRINITY OF DEATH 92 
XIV WITHOUT TRACE 105 
XV A BUILDER OF MEN 117 
XVI A TRIPLE ALLIANCE 133 
XVII MR. GLUCKSTEIN IN CONFIDENCE 142 
XVIII THE WIT OF THE PINK LADY 151 
XIX DETAINED ON SUSPICION 159 
XX THE BIRTH OF THE KILLER 176 
XXI A HASTY FLIGHT 187 
XXII TRANTER ATTACKS THE CROOKED HOUSE 195 
XXIII A DUEL 203 
XXIV THE SECRET OF THE HOUSE 220 
XXV TRUER COLORS 233 
XXVI PROVIDING FOR THE WORST 241 
XXVII THE DISAPPEARANCE OF TRANTER 250
XXVIII IN PURSUIT 259 
XXIX ETHICS OF KILLING 262 
XXX MONSIEUR DUPONT'S TASK 273 
XXXI WHAT THEY HEARD 279 
XXXII THE BEAUTY-KILLER 288 
XXXIII LAST TRUTHS 291 
XXXIV CONCLUSION 312 
 
THE CROOKED HOUSE 
CHAPTER I 
A STRANGE RIDDLE 
"Monsieur Tranter! A moment!" 
The Right-Honorable John Tranter swung round, latch-key in hand. 
Behind him, an enormous figure emerged, with surprisingly agile and 
noiseless steps, from the shadow of the adjoining house--a figure 
almost grotesque and monstrous in the dim light of the street lamp. The 
very hugeness of the apparition was so disconcerting that John Tranter 
drew back with a startled exclamation. 
"Good Lord! Monsieur Dupont? You in London?" 
Monsieur Dupont described circles with his country's largest silk hat. 
"I in London! An event, my friend, in the history of your city!" 
He laughed softly, and replaced the hat on his head. They shook hands 
warmly.
"This is a delightful surprise," Tranter said, turning back to the door. 
"Come in." 
"It is late," Monsieur Dupont apologized--"but I entreat a moment. It is 
three hours only since I arrived, and I have passed one of them on your 
doorstep." 
"An hour?" Tranter exclaimed. "But surely----" 
Monsieur Dupont squeezed himself into the narrow hall with difficulty. 
"I possess the gift of patience," he claimed modestly. "In London it is 
of great value." 
In the small library he looked about him with surprise. The plain, 
almost scanty furniture of Tranter's house evidently did not accord with 
his expectations of the residence of an English Privy Councillor. 
Monsieur Dupont sat down on a well-worn leather couch, and stared, 
somewhat blankly, at the rows of dull, monotonous bindings in the 
simple mahogany bookcases. 
He placed the drink Tranter mixed for him on a small table by his side, 
accepted a cigar, and puffed at it serenely. And in that position, 
Monsieur Victorien Dupont presented a pleasing picture of elephantine 
geniality. He was so large that his presence seemed to fill half the room. 
His great face was one tremendous smile. His eyes, though capable of a 
disconcertingly direct gaze, were clear and even childlike. His English 
was perfect, his evening-dress faultless, and, though obviously a 
bon-viveur, he was also unmistakably a man with a purpose. 
"And what has brought you to London?" Tranter asked, sitting opposite 
to him. 
"My friend," said Monsieur Dupont, "I am here with a remarkable 
object. I have come to use the eyes the good God has given me. And to 
do so I beg the assistance of the great position the good God has given 
you."
"I hope," Tranter returned, "that what you require will enable me to 
make some sort of return to the man who saved my life." 
Monsieur Dupont waved his hands in a gigantic gesture. 
"To restore to the world one of its great men--it was a privilege for 
which I, myself, should pay! The service I ask of you is small." 
"You have but to name it," said the Privy Councillor. 
* * * * * 
Suddenly there was no smile on Monsieur    
    
		
	
	
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