Read Online The Manual of Detection by Jedediah Berry - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jedediah Berry
Ads: Link
stuck straight out from his face. Then he returned his attention to his typewriter.
Despite all that Unwin had read of detective work, he had no idea how to proceed with this investigation. Whom had Sivart met with, and what had transpired between them? What good did it do to have come here now? The trail might already have “gone cold,” as Sivart would have put it.
Unwin opened his briefcase. He had sworn not to read The Manual of Detection, but he knew he would at least have to skim it if he were going to play at being a detective. He told himself he would read only enough to help him along to the first break in the case. That would come soon, he thought, if he only knew how to begin.
He turned the book over in his hands. The edges of the cloth were worn from use. It’s saved my life more than once, Pith had said to him. But Unwin had never even heard of the book, so he was sure the Agency did not wish for non-employees to learn of its existence. Instead of setting the book on the table, he opened it in his lap.
THE MANUAL
OF
DETECTION
A Compendium of Techniques and Advice
for the Modern Detective,
Representing Matters Procedural, Practical, and Methodological;
Featuring
True Accounts of Pertinent Cases
With Helpful Illustrations and Diagrams;
Including an Appendix of Exercises, Experiments,
and Suggestions for Further Study.
FOURTH EDITION
He turned to the table of contents. Each chapter focused on one of the finer points of the investigative arts, from the common elements of case management to various surveillance techniques and methods of interrogation. But the range of topics was so broad that Unwin did not know what to read first.
Nothing in the index seemed entirely appropriate to his situation, except perhaps one entry: “Mystery, First Tidings of.” He turned to the corresponding page and began to read.
The inexperienced agent, when presented with a few promising leads, will likely feel the urge to follow them as directly as possible. But a mystery is a dark room, and anything could be waiting inside. At this stage of the case, your enemies know more than you know—that is what makes them your enemies. Therefore it is paramount that you proceed slantwise, especially when beginning your work. To do anything else is to turn your pockets inside out, light a lamp over your head, and paste a target on your shirtfront.
The iciness that had settled in Unwin’s wet socks climbed up his legs and began melting into his stomach. How many blunders had he already committed? He read the next few pages quickly, then skimmed the beginnings of those chapters that dealt with the foundations of the investigative process. Every paragraph of The Manual of Detection read like an admonishment tailored specifically for him. He should have developed an alternate identity, come in disguise or through a back door, planned an escape route. Certainly he should have remained armed. In one case file after another he had seen these techniques used, but detectives employed them without any apparent forethought. Was Sivart really so deliberate? Everything he did—whether throwing someone off his trail or throwing a punch—he did as though the possibility had only just occurred to him.
Unwin closed the book and set it on the table, set his hands on top of it, and took a few deep breaths. The man with the blond beard was working quickly now. Unwin saw the phrase habits suggesting a dull but potentially dangerous personality, empty or clouded over, and then, just as he typed it, if he is in contact with the absentee agent, he does not know it.
Maybe he had stumbled into a lucky spot after all. Unwin got the man’s attention with a wave of his hand.
The man turned in his seat, his beard a pointed accusation.
“Begging your pardon,” Unwin said, “but are you the person who met here with Detective Sivart recently?”
The typist’s frown deepened, his eyebrows drooping even as his beard rose an inch
Despite all that Unwin had read of detective work, he had no idea how to proceed with this investigation. Whom had Sivart met with, and what had transpired between them? What good did it do to have come here now? The trail might already have “gone cold,” as Sivart would have put it.
Unwin opened his briefcase. He had sworn not to read The Manual of Detection, but he knew he would at least have to skim it if he were going to play at being a detective. He told himself he would read only enough to help him along to the first break in the case. That would come soon, he thought, if he only knew how to begin.
He turned the book over in his hands. The edges of the cloth were worn from use. It’s saved my life more than once, Pith had said to him. But Unwin had never even heard of the book, so he was sure the Agency did not wish for non-employees to learn of its existence. Instead of setting the book on the table, he opened it in his lap.
THE MANUAL
OF
DETECTION
A Compendium of Techniques and Advice
for the Modern Detective,
Representing Matters Procedural, Practical, and Methodological;
Featuring
True Accounts of Pertinent Cases
With Helpful Illustrations and Diagrams;
Including an Appendix of Exercises, Experiments,
and Suggestions for Further Study.
FOURTH EDITION
He turned to the table of contents. Each chapter focused on one of the finer points of the investigative arts, from the common elements of case management to various surveillance techniques and methods of interrogation. But the range of topics was so broad that Unwin did not know what to read first.
Nothing in the index seemed entirely appropriate to his situation, except perhaps one entry: “Mystery, First Tidings of.” He turned to the corresponding page and began to read.
The inexperienced agent, when presented with a few promising leads, will likely feel the urge to follow them as directly as possible. But a mystery is a dark room, and anything could be waiting inside. At this stage of the case, your enemies know more than you know—that is what makes them your enemies. Therefore it is paramount that you proceed slantwise, especially when beginning your work. To do anything else is to turn your pockets inside out, light a lamp over your head, and paste a target on your shirtfront.
The iciness that had settled in Unwin’s wet socks climbed up his legs and began melting into his stomach. How many blunders had he already committed? He read the next few pages quickly, then skimmed the beginnings of those chapters that dealt with the foundations of the investigative process. Every paragraph of The Manual of Detection read like an admonishment tailored specifically for him. He should have developed an alternate identity, come in disguise or through a back door, planned an escape route. Certainly he should have remained armed. In one case file after another he had seen these techniques used, but detectives employed them without any apparent forethought. Was Sivart really so deliberate? Everything he did—whether throwing someone off his trail or throwing a punch—he did as though the possibility had only just occurred to him.
Unwin closed the book and set it on the table, set his hands on top of it, and took a few deep breaths. The man with the blond beard was working quickly now. Unwin saw the phrase habits suggesting a dull but potentially dangerous personality, empty or clouded over, and then, just as he typed it, if he is in contact with the absentee agent, he does not know it.
Maybe he had stumbled into a lucky spot after all. Unwin got the man’s attention with a wave of his hand.
The man turned in his seat, his beard a pointed accusation.
“Begging your pardon,” Unwin said, “but are you the person who met here with Detective Sivart recently?”
The typist’s frown deepened, his eyebrows drooping even as his beard rose an inch
Similar Books
