During the
forties, John
Russell Fearn wrote an introduction to his science-fiction novel,
Other Eyes Watching (1946), in which he "revealed that
his favorite mystery and detective writer was John
Dickson Carr," famously known as the master of the locked
room conundrum, but Fearn was as productive in the field of
impossible crime fiction as the master himself – e.g. the very
Carr-like The
Five Matchboxes (1948). Robert Adey observed in Locked
Room Murders (1991) that the only mystery novelists who continued
to produce locked room puzzles, "in any quantity," after
World War II were Carr and Fearn.
So this made
me very curious about one of Fearn's little-known, standalone mystery
novels, The Rattenbury Mystery (1955), which was originally
published as by "Conway Carr." Was it an overlooked locked room
novel? According to Philip
Harbottle, the plot definitely has some "nice impossible
crime resonances." Well, that was more than enough to get me
aboard!
The
Rattenbury Mystery opens with a young, beautiful woman, named
Dorene Grey, leaving the London office of a well-known movie-and
theatrical agent, Amos Rattenbury.
Dorene Grey
is a country girl who has dreams of entering "the charmed world
of Filmdom" and came to London when she saw an advertisement in
the local newspaper, but even she can hardly believe the brief
interview ended with Rattenbury casually offering her "a small
part in a forthcoming film" – walking out of his office
immersed in "pleasant daydreams." However, a
handsome-looking stranger, Terry Hilton, accosts her on the street
and urges her "to beware of Amos Rattenbury."
Hilton tells
her there's a reason why Rattenbury is looking for young woman
without previous experience in the film industry, because there are
hundreds of actresses in the city looking for work. Only they know
too much about his "rotten business" practices. So he
preys on "innocent young simpletons" who can be dazzled
with "the prospect of becoming a shining star," but
Hilton's lack of tact is not entirely appreciated. And she decides to
go back later that day to sign the contract. They parted with Hilton
giving her a silver-plated whistle with "Metropolitan Police"
engraved on it. Yes, he handed her a rape-whistle.
Terry Hilton
is actually a widely known actor, whose name has topped "the
bills from one end of the country to the other," but is also
the younger brother of the Assistant Commissioner of Police, Sir
Digby Hilton. He immediately drops by his brother to ask his help
with prying Dorene Grey from the Rattenbury's clutches. Regrettably,
there's very little Sir Digby, or the police in general, can do to
help him with his mission, but, when he's about to take his leave,
the desk telephone rang with dire news about Rattenbury – who has
been found stabbed to death in his private-office. And the last
person to have been with him was the now missing Dorene Grey. Even
worse, she left a blood-smeared glove behind!
So the police
is out in full force to track down and apprehend the angel-faced
Dorene Grey, but the plot takes an unexpected turn into the bizarre
world of the pulp detective when Terry and Sir Digby attend a
movie-screening of Hamlet at the Pantheon Theatre.
Terry plays
the leading role and Sir Digby was completely absorbed in the tragedy
on the silver screen when the film was suddenly cut short. A figure
in an old-fashioned Inverness overcoat, a wide-brimmed felt hat and
black mask appeared on the screen against a gray background. This
apparition introduced himself to the cinema audience as The Phantom
of the Films, "a shade as unsubstantial as the pictures,"
who confesses to the murder of Rattenbury, but warns to let no man,
police officer or private citizen, seek to discover his identity –
because he's nothing more than "an elusive figure from the
realms of romance" fleeting across the stage before vanishing.
This is where the plot of the story slowly began to morph from a
traditional, straightforward detective story (c.f. One
Remained Seated, 1946) into a pulp-like crime novel akin to
Account
Settled (1949) or The
Man Who Was Not (2005).
During the
second half, Terry Hilton and Dorene Grey are reunited. She goes to
an old friend of her late father for help, Professor Niccolo
Dangelli, who's one of "the foremost scientific criminologist of
the present day" and plans on producing his own movie that will
reveal the truth to the British public. However, Professor Dangelli
turns out to be as much a suspect as detective and appears to be part
of vast, far-reaching conspiracy. So I was starting to get a little
worried at this point, but more about that later.
I quoted
Harbottle, in the opening, saying The Rattenbury Mystery has
some nice impossible crime resonances and the murder of Amos
Rattenbury can only be described as a quasi-impossible murder. Some
would even qualify it as a full-blown impossible murder.
The
private-office, where the murder was committed, hardly resembled the
proverbial locked room, but, had Dorene not fled the room, she would
have witnessed Rattenbury being stabbed by an invisible man! There
is, however, an indisputable impossible crime very late in the book:
a murdered woman is found in the middle of a patch of ground, of
newly turned soil, which was "soft
enough to take the lightest footprints," but the only
traces the police found were the footprints of the victim – adding
another Fearn title to the list Adey overlooked when he compiled
Locked Room Murders. The tricks employed here were not too
bad, for a pulp-style impossible crime novel, but hardly, as the
story claims, "a method hitherto unemployed in the annals of
crime." I've seen numerous variation on this particular trick
and there's one well-known short story that pioneered it. Still, it
was put to good use here and have no complaints about it.
I preferred
the first half of The Rattenbury Mystery, as it somewhat
reminded me of a Christopher
Bush novel, with Terry playing the Ludovic Travers to Sir Digby's
Superintendent George Wharton. I wish Fearn had continued to develop
the plot along those lines. Nonetheless, the second half, messy as it
may look, safely landed on its feet in the final chapter with an
ending that was more in line with a traditional detective story. And
included the explanation for the (quasi) impossible murders.
The
Rattenbury Mystery was an uneven, but fun, detective novel
covered with Fearn's (stylistic) fingerprints. Not only did the plot
betray his pulp roots, but also laid bare his love for the cinema and
film making. Fearn was an amateur cineast who made his own movies and
this reflected in the reconstruction of Rattenbury's murder in
Professor Dangelli's movie (The Phantom Stabber). So
definitely a recommended read for fans of Fearn and the fanatical locked
room reader, like yours truly.
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