title: Whistling Past the Graveyard: And Other Tales
author:  Jonathan Maberry 
description: JONATHAN MABERRY is a NY Times bestselling novelist, five-time Bram Stoker Award winner, and comic book writer. He writes the Joe Ledger thrillers, the Rot &amp; Ruin series, the Nightsiders series, the Dead of Night series, as well as standalone novels in multiple genres. His novels include KILL SWITCH, the 8th in his best-selling Joe Ledger thriller series; VAULT OF SHADOWS, a middle-grade sf/fantasy mash-up; and MARS ONE, a standalone teen space travel novel. He is the editor of many anthologies including THE X-FILES, SCARY OUT THERE, OUT OF TUNE, and V-WARS. His comic book works include, among others, CAPTAIN AMERICA, the Bram Stoker Award-winning BAD BLOOD, ROT &amp; RUIN, V-WARS, the NY Times bests-selling MARVEL ZOMBIES RETURN, and others. His books EXTINCTION MACHINE and V-WARS are in development for TV/film. A board game version of V-WARS was released in early 2016. He is the founder of the Writers Coffeehouse, and the co-founder of The Liars Club. Prior to becoming a full-time novelist, Jonathan spent twenty-five years as a magazine feature writer, martial arts instructor and playwright. He was a featured expert on the History Channel documentary, Zombies: A Living History and a regular expert on the TV series, True Monsters. He is one third of the very popular and mildly weird Three Guys With Beards pop-culture podcast. Jonathan lives in Del Mar, California with his wife, Sara Jo. www.jonathanmaberry.com
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  The Stranger of the Night
  
  
  This page copyright © 2004 Blackmask Online.
  
  
  
  
  
  # The Stranger of the Night
  
  
  ### By Edgar Wallace
  
  
  This page copyright © 2004 Blackmask Online.
  
  
  http://www.blackmask.com  
    
  
      
  
  Etext from horrormasters.com
  
  
  
  
  
  The little instrument on the table by the inspector's desk went
  
  
  “tick-tock.” Then it stopped, as though considering how it should word
  
  
  the message it had to give.
  
  
  It was very still in the charge-room, so still that the big clock
  
  
  above the fireplace was audible. That, and the squeaky scratching of
  
  
  the inspector's quill pen as it moved slowly over the yellow paper on
  
  
  the desk before him, were the only sounds in the room.
  
  
  Outside it was raining softly, the streets were deserted, and the
  
  
  lines of lamps stretching east and west emphasized the loneliness.
  
  
  “Tick-tock,” said the instrument on the table excitedly, “tick-tock,
  
  
  tick-tock!” The inspector's high stool creaked as he sat up, listening.
  
  
  Th