A NIGHT OF TERRORIt was incredible, impossible; yet the recognition came to Doris with absolute certitude. Even without the shell-rimmed glasses she knew the man. There was no mistaking the square-cut jaw, the straight thin-lipped mouth, closed like a steel trap, or the deeply cloven chin. She saw too that he wore kid gloves, as he had done when signing the hotel book on the fatal night. Without a doubt, unless he had a twin brother, this was the man.
In that case, whose body was it that had been found in his room? And what part had this mysterious person played in the tragedy? Was he, perhaps, the murderer? As the thought crossed her mind, Doris’s blood chilled at the realization of her position. Here she was, alone in this empty house, isolated from all humanity, prying into the secrets
