The room was neat but crowded. A desk sat in the middle, and the detective behind it. On the desk, among various papers, was a dust-covered magnifying glass. An unfinished game of chess was set on a board in the far corner. Next to it was an unimposing alcohol cabinet, each bottle still full. The back wall was covered by a large bookshelf. The books looked as untouched as the whisky. Upon his guests' entrance, the detective moved from the desk to an armchair by the room's lone window. Beethoven played softly through the door to the bedroom.
“Mr. Tom Haven, remember me?” said Buchanan. “We met at Wilfie's bar? You told me about your case involving the petrified maid.”
“It's Bill, right? The professor?” Haven asked. He stood and they shook hands.
“Yes. You impressed me so much I wanted to see you work in person. So when this gentleman's wallet went missing at the cafe just a few blocks down, I told everyone we have to come and let you solve the mystery.”
Each suspect has two clues relevant to them. Good Luck.