"To every reasonable theory of the cause of his death they raised some technical objection."- Inspector Arnold (Miles Burton's Death Leaves No Card, 1944)
Earlier this month, "Puzzle Doctor," who
blogs over at In Search of the
Classic Mystery Novel, announced he was embarking on a month-long
Rhode-a-Thon, called #IReadRhode, which came shortly
after my review of Death
in the Tunnel (1936) and was swiftly followed by a blog-post about that
book's immediate predecessor – namely the slightly disappointing The
Milk-Churn Murder (1935).
Well, I had done my miles on the Rhode
less traveled, but Death in the Tunnel and The Milk-Churn Murder
both came from the Desmond Merrion series, published under the byline of "Miles
Burton," and it had been a while since I read one of his Dr. Lancelot Priestley
novels. So, I reasoned, why not use this convenient excuse of a Rhode-a-Thon to
return to Rhode's work for a third time this month. The book I ended up with
has been praised by the likes of Jacques Barzun for its clever, innovative and unique
plot: Death
in Harley Street (1946).
Death in Harley Street opens in the study of Dr. Lancelot Priestley, "an eminent if
somewhat eccentric scientist" who "had adopted as his hobby the whole
theory of criminal investigation," where a small clutch of his friends had
assembled: a retired Superintendent Hanslet, Superintendent Waghorn and an elderly,
successful general practitioner, Dr. Oldland – who found himself in a comfortable
state of semi-retirement. It was not the first time they gathered in that study
and it was tradition for Priestley to enthrone himself behind his desk, "apparently
in a state of complete torpor," to listen to the problems of the police.
As the equal eminent Dr. Oldland remarks
on this occasion, it's usually the pair of coppers "who take the floor and hardly
let a chap get a word in edgeways," but on this particular evening he wants
to hear Dr. Priestley's opinion on the strange death that befell one of his
colleagues.
Dr. Richard Mawsley of Harley Street, "the
leading authority on glandular diseases," was alone in his consulting-room
when his butler, Phepson, heard a dull thud and the rattle of a door handle, which
was followed by the faint, muffled sounds of movement from the adjoining
dispensary. Suddenly, there was "a blood-curdling cry and a sickening crash."
Dr. Mawsley was discovered on the floor of his dispensary, "writhing in
agony," with the coat sleeve and cuff of his left forearm rolled up, which
revealed a fresh puncture mark and near him lay the pieces of a broken
hypodermic syringe – on the bench stood a phial, the rubber cap torn off, which
bore a label identifying its content as strychnine.
Evidently, the gland specialist had been
injected with a lethal dose of poison, but how this came about seems to be an
unanswerable question.
Suicide appears to be out of the
question: Dr. Mawsley was a reserved, self-centered man who loved to see his
wealth accumulate and on the evening of his death he received incredible good
news from a visiting lawyer. One of his first patients had remembered him in
her will and he found himself the recipient of a generous, entirely unexpected
legacy. A legacy to the tune of five thousand pounds. The lawyer, who was the
doctor's last visitor, left him in the best of spirits, which is another strike
against the possibility of suicide. Murder is equally improbable for a litany
of reasons, but the most obvious ones are that there were no signs of a
struggle or an opportunity for a nebulous murderer to enter (and leave) a room
that was under constant observation.
So everyone, including the courts,
settled for the easiest possible explanation, namely accidental death, but, as
Oldland remarked, for "a medical man of his experience" to "make such
a mistake was extraordinary" – even though it appears to be the only answer
that made remotely sense.
Well, Dr. Priestley agrees that the case
is exceptional and states that the circumstances exclude accident, suicide or
murder and "a fourth alternative should be sought," which got him
permission to reopen the case with Jimmy Waghorn as his legman. First the thing
you’ll notice from the subsequent investigation is that Rhode gave more than
his usual consideration to characterization and in particular the personality
of the dead doctor.
At his best, Dr. Mawsley was considered
as a man of "all head and no heart." A man widely respected in the
medical world as one of the best gland specialist of his time, but this respect
never extended to the person behind the reputation. At his absolute worst, he
was considered to be "an inveterate fee-snatcher" and he had no interest
in seeing people whose primary source of income was a weekly pay envelope,
which resulted in the unnecessary death of several people.
So combine this piece of well-done
characterization, especially by Rhode's own standard, with the baffling
premise, as well as its clever and original explanation, and you got a
potential classic on your hands, but what keeps the book from attaining a place
in the first ranks of the genre is the conversational-style of the plot – which
gave the story the pace of a dying snail. I do not believe the pace should take
anything away from the shimmering brilliance of the plot, but there's no
getting away from the fact that Death in Harley Street is an incredible
slow moving story and you should keep that in mind.
As you probably gathered from this padded
review, the conversational approach Rhode took to the plot and writing makes it
kind of hard to make any pointed observation. Not without giving something of
importance away. I mean, I noticed one part of the solution, which did not
involve the fourth alternative, strongly resembled the plot of an Agatha
Christie novel, but naming that specific book would probably give away the
identity of the murderer and motive to a perceptive reader.
But rest assured, the book is well worth
the attention of fans of vintage mysteries and if you happen to be one of those
readers, like yours truly, who loves to play armchair detective than you'll
enjoy trying to figure out what the fourth alternative is. In that case, the
slow pace of the book might even be a positive attribute, because it gives you
the time needed to consider all of the evidence.
For my next read, I have selected a
detective story with a plot that reportedly contributed a piece of military strategy for
the Allied invasion of Nazi occupied Europe.
Sounds like I still need to keep looking for the classic and accessible Rhode for me to start by reading debut with ...
ReplyDeleteThe House on Tollard Ridge is one of those books that's more easily available than others and the book serves as a good introduction to Rhode. So I would advice hunting down a copy of that one.
DeleteCheapest copy currently £25 + postage on Abebooks - the availability of Rhode books really seems to be nearly random. I think only Harley St and Claverton seem to be regularly affordable, with some lowish priced Venner Crimes as well.
DeleteOf course, there was one affordablish copy of Tollard. Someone must have bought it...
There used to be quite a few copies of the Green Penguin edition available, but maybe they were snapped up in recent years when classic detective stories regained some of their popularity with the readers of today.
DeleteFunny that you say that it's a bit slow. Normally that's the first thing that bugs me but I barely noticed it with this book. Really enjoyed it.
ReplyDeleteI found the pace of the book to be very slow, but it may have been my own (reading) pace that was on the slow side. In any case, the book still has a great and original plot and explanation.
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