Hammett Krimibuchhandlung — !!hot!!

Gregor nodded. “Three people who borrowed books from our lending library have since vanished. Each borrowed a title with his handwriting inside. Each was last seen walking past this very door.”

And somewhere in the ruins of Berlin’s greatest crime bookshop, the ghost of Dashiell Hammett lit a cigarette and smiled.

From the top of the stairs came a heavy footfall. Gregor’s voice drifted down, soft as a silencer. hammett krimibuchhandlung

“You’ve been watching the store,” Lena said.

“You taught me everything I know about crime fiction, Gregor,” she said quietly. “But you forgot one rule.” Gregor nodded

“Traffic,” Lena lied.

“In a bookstore?” Gregor smirked. “The only traffic here is ghosts.” Each was last seen walking past this very door

When Gregor’s flashlight beam cut through the blackness, he saw Lena standing beside the tailor, holding the book like a shield.