The ghastly corpse sprawls on the floor, a curious dagger still quivering in its side. The wall-safe gapes open−gone the twin heirloom emeralds, gone the royal Russian ruby. A slip of a girl cowers by the curtain, hand to throat, wide eyes glued to the horrid spectacle. Thunderous knocking at the door−the police! Quavering housekeeper opens; gusty storm blows her grey wisp of hair, flash of lightning glitters in her twin green (emerald green) eyes. Blustering sergeant finds cigaret case initialed J. S. "A plant," sneers John Smith, master detective, who has appeared...
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