The Thin Red Line; and Blue Blood w/ Direct link technology (A Classic Detective story)

As seen in the daytime, there was nothing strange about the door, or the house to which it gave access. The place purported to be an hotel--a seedy, out-at-elbows, seemingly little-frequented hotel, rejoicing in the altogether inappropriate name of the Hôtel Paradis, or the Paradise Hotel. Its outward appearance was calculated to repel rather than invite customers; no one would be likely to lodge there who could go elsewhere. It had habitually a deserted look, with all its blinds and casements close shut, as though its lodgers slept through the day, or had gone away, never to return.