Explore "The Chase of the Golden Plate" by Jacques Futrelle on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Those satellites of the Supreme Police Intelligence of the Metropolitan District who had been taking the Randolph mystery to pieces to see what made it tick, lined up in front of Detective Mallory, in his private office, at police headquarters, early Saturday evening. They did not seem happy. The Supreme Intelligence placed his feet on the desk and glowered; that was a part of the job.
"Well, Downey? " he asked.