Scan barcode
heidenkind's review against another edition
2.0
Possibly the worst detective I've ever come across in 30 years of reading.
colorfulleo92's review against another edition
3.0
This was my first adventure in reading Carolyn Wells and I did enjoy it, found it cozy and was entertaind but not fully in love with it. Will try more of her catalog tough
vesper1931's review against another edition
3.0
Detective Herbert Burroughs has been employed to investigate the murder of wealthy businessman Joseph Crawford. Killed in his study. Many confessions, lies and clues unearthed by Burroughs are later told to Fleming Stone when he is called in, then he discovers the culprit.
An enjoyable read
An enjoyable read
krikketgirl's review against another edition
1.0
I read a lot of a "Golden Age" cozy mysteries, so my ability to suspend disbelief is pretty pronounced. Give me a detective who can change his appearance in 30 seconds using only the items in his overcoat pocket? No problem. A flatfoot who can determine a man's hair color using only his footprint? Sure thing. I'm along for the ride, and I will take in stride just about anything you can toss at me.
In addition, I'm well aware of the class and racial prejudices of the times in which this type of book was written, and again I can usually set them aside. Of course the detective is smarter than the police; of course someone who looks noble is above suspicion; of course a strong woman just needs the right man to make her melt into a comfortable tabby cat of a dame. That is the world conjured in the cozies, and I don't strain my brain trying to sledgehammer them into a modern mindset.
I would like to take a sledgehammer to this book, however. Not because it is overly offensive; because it is just plain bad. I took a dislike to the first-person main character within the first chapter, and I was never able to shake it. We're introduced to his friend, Fleming Stone, who can conjure up amazing truth based on the slimmest of clues, and then we're left to plod on without his help for several agonizing chapters. At the very end, he is brought in as a deus ex machina to save the day, solve the case, and dazzle us by wrapping up the whole book in three paragraphs.
Meanwhile, our first-person narrator is vain, arrogant, and wishy-washy. He views almost every other character with disdain, though he will occasionally grudgingly admit that they have a brain or two rattling about in their heads. He falls in love with the leading lady at first sight and then spends precious sentences in every chapter wondering whether she's guilty or not and vowing to himself that he will help her no matter what. One character stonewalls throughout the entire novel, which--while no doubt true to life--was less puzzling than it was irritating.
This might have made an adequate short story. As a novel, it was a waste of my reading time.
In addition, I'm well aware of the class and racial prejudices of the times in which this type of book was written, and again I can usually set them aside. Of course the detective is smarter than the police; of course someone who looks noble is above suspicion; of course a strong woman just needs the right man to make her melt into a comfortable tabby cat of a dame. That is the world conjured in the cozies, and I don't strain my brain trying to sledgehammer them into a modern mindset.
I would like to take a sledgehammer to this book, however. Not because it is overly offensive; because it is just plain bad. I took a dislike to the first-person main character within the first chapter, and I was never able to shake it. We're introduced to his friend, Fleming Stone, who can conjure up amazing truth based on the slimmest of clues, and then we're left to plod on without his help for several agonizing chapters. At the very end, he is brought in as a deus ex machina to save the day, solve the case, and dazzle us by wrapping up the whole book in three paragraphs.
Meanwhile, our first-person narrator is vain, arrogant, and wishy-washy. He views almost every other character with disdain, though he will occasionally grudgingly admit that they have a brain or two rattling about in their heads. He falls in love with the leading lady at first sight and then spends precious sentences in every chapter wondering whether she's guilty or not and vowing to himself that he will help her no matter what. One character stonewalls throughout the entire novel, which--while no doubt true to life--was less puzzling than it was irritating.
This might have made an adequate short story. As a novel, it was a waste of my reading time.
janp's review
4.0
Entertaining early 20th century murder mystery a la Agatha Christie by esteemed mystery novelist Carolyn Wells.
More...