"Such will be a great lesson of peace, teaching men that what they can not take by an election neither can they take it by a war; teaching all the folly of being the beginners of a war."- Abraham Lincoln (Fourth of July Address to Congress, 1861)
Jimmy Hale is one of the star reporters
on the payroll of the New York Eagle and his involvement in a string of
bizarre murders begins when the staff is ready to put the paper to be bed for
the day. The untidy and grimy room fills with subdued chatter and banter, once
the typewriters came to a grinding halt, and the conversation turns to an old
friend of Hale – an eminent scientist, Professor Herman Brierly, who shuns
publicity because of his contribution in several remarkable criminal cases.
Brierly is close to eighty years old and a specialist in a variety of subjects,
but Hale was the person responsible for putting on him on a path of crime.
The editor of the city newspaper, "Iron
Man" Hite, overhears Hale's crack-up of his friend and decides his upcoming
holiday should be on expense of the paper to visit Brierly, who's staying up in
Canada, and enjoy some pints of beer outside of one of the dimly let, smoky
speakeasies in New York. Oh, and there's a reunion at the retreat of Justice
Isaac Higginbotham of fourteen Civil War veterans. They are the last members of
a group of two hundred and thirty seven. Confederate and a few Union soldiers.
This group is held together and gathers every Fourth of July by a Tontine
insurance policy, giving the last surviving members the pot, and after
more than sixty years that amounts to several million dollars.
And thus begins Death Points a Finger
(1933) by Will Levinrew, another mystery writer too obscure for his own page on
the GADWiki, but I have to start off by saying how similar the set-up of the
plot is to Ellery Queen's "The Gettysburg Bugle," collected in Calendar of Crime (1953), in which three Civil War veterans have a yearly ritual at
Memorial Day and a last-survivor-takes-all scheme of themselves. The whole Tontine
insurance/last survivor policy is also at the heart of another story, "The
Inner Circle," from the very same collection of stories and would again be
refurbished in "The Last Man Club" from The Adventure of the Murdered Moths and Other Radio Plays (2005). I think I can safely sate that Death
Points a Finger is interesting reading material for Ellery Queen fans,
because Levinrew may've played his part in shaping those stories.
The rough background sketch of the
surviving Civil War veterans is brief, but interesting, concentrating on some
of the blackest pages from the war, when brothers were fighting each other on opposite
sites, but their story is also one of betrayal – and they've been receiving papers
with the number fourteen printed on it every time someone from the group passed
away. And the number of suspicious suicides and accidental deaths has been on
an alarming rise among members of the group. Just before Hale arrived, they
received news of three new deaths!
Morris Miller was found dead with a
bullet in his head on the couch in his bedroom, a revolver had fallen from his
limp hand, but the door and the windows were locked from the inside and the
burglar alarm had not been aroused. Professor Brierly does not waste time in
busting open this part of the case and sort-of makes Stonewall Rountree, from
Jesse Carmack's The Tell-Tale Clock Mystery (1937), on the slow side
with solving his seemingly impossible murder case on the Fourth of July. But Brierly
is more a grumpy old man immersed in his hobby and lets out a snarl every now
and then. Not at all the arrogant borderline sociopath sleuth John from Pretty Sinister Books promised in his review of Murder from the Grave (1930). Arrogant...
absolutely, but not to the extent described in that review. However, the best solution
would've been if Hale had revealed Briery as the brain behind the plot and
explain his fantastic deductions as perpetrator knowledge in a grand play on
the narrator-did-it ploy. Brierly had the age to be the elusive Amos Brown.
Death Points a Finger noticeably looses momentum in the second half as the Civil War elements
are phased to the background and the plot concentrates on investigating the several
deaths, traveling between the States and Canada, and even more murders follow! Levinrew
even throws in a bomb for good measure killing not only its intended target,
but also several service men assigned as bodyguards. The food theme mentioned
in the review of Murder from the Grave is present here, as well, as they
arrest a hungry burglar whose modus operandi was used as part of the
locked room trick and it's a round-a-bout way to use a simple trick, but there's
a rather clever reason for it. A completely new motive (for me) to justify all
that work to create the illusion of the locked room and the cover of suicide is
just the surface. But the second half felt a bit under whelming compared to the
grander stage of the opening act, but, as a whole, a fairly competent second
stringer and the snippets of the newspaper business were fun. The trail of obscurity
is getting brighter!
My goodness TV, where on earth did you find this one? Never, ever, ever heard of it - you make the locked room sound really fascinating - cheers.
ReplyDeleteYou shouldn't expect too much from the trick, but the reason why the murderer went through all that trouble, for such a simple trick, was clever. At least, I thought so.
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