The Gilded Man - Carter Dickson

Sheer chance led me to choose The Gilded Man as my final read for 2025. And waddya know? The book takes place on Dec 29-31, 1938 (even though it was published in 1942). In another neat coincidence as I was finishing up the book last night it began to snow.  We have about a half of inch covering the lawns and sidewalks (mostly still unshovelled) mirroring the final day in Carr's novel in which a heavy snowfall affects the plot in multiple incidents.

Like most of John Dickson Carr's murder mysteries this book has been covered by several vintage mystery bloggers and I won't go into great detail about the story. In essence it's primarily about a burglary that takes place during a house party, a tiresome cliche in detective fiction during the Golden Age, but in the hands of Carr and with the presence of Henry Merirvale you know you're going to get a lot of frothy farce and amusing incidents. This book is hardly tiresome.  It moves along at a clip, the action begins almost immediately with witty banter and a crucial scene involving two characters eavesdropping while completely unseen on two other characters.  That dialogue sequence pays a very important part in the plot.

The setting as well is pure Carr -- an immense four story mansion previously owned by a hedonistic, vain actress named Flavia Venner. She had a theater built on the top floor beneath the ornate cupola that tops the outside of the house. The architecture of the theater owes a lot to late 18th century theaters including two secret curtained booths called baignores (but spelled beignoir in the book). Nick Wood and Betty Stanhope are hidden in one of these curtained booths when they accidentally overhear the conversation between her father Dwight and his business partner Buller Naseby.

For a while it seems as if there will be no murder in this book. The burglar is stabbed but does not die.  He is dressed like a thief from a French silent movie - all in black with a mask covering his entire head. When the mask is removed they see the face of Dwight Stanhope. No one can believe that the man was burglarizing his own home and in the process of removing an El Greco painting from its ornate frame. We learn that his wife Cristabel wanted to have a masquerade party for New Year's Eve but her husband cannot abide dressing up of any kind and forbade her from staging such a party. Why then did he dress up as stereotypical cat burglar, break into his home, and attempt to remove the painting?

While Dwight Stanhope is recuperating Nick Wood makes sure that his bedroom is guarded so that when Stanhope is better and able to talk he can be questioned about who attacked him. Let's say that plan will not work out to Wood's advantage. When death occurs it is unnecessarily theatrical. Merrivale is astounded that the person who attempted to kill Stanhope would try again. Anyone would realize, Merrivale says, that an attempted murder would result in a punishment of only a few years while an actual murder is a capital offense and leads to the gallows. He is sure they are dealing with a vain individual.

Among the various puzzling elements of the burglary are footprints in the icy stone outside the French windows that forced to gain entry, some strange wounds on Stanhope's body and face that seem to indicate a person of small stature and lightweight physique stomped on him, scratches on some silver plates and bowls that were scattered around Stanhope's body, and a roll of adhesive tape with bloodstains on it. Other unusual clues include an oily saucer washed in a sink, a mini lesson in art history, and an offhand remark from the chauffeur who wants to see Merrivale perform the Indian rope trick. All of these clues and more are cleverly introduced into the story. Remarkably, all of them can be logically explained if one has been an assiduous reader. This is one of the Carr's most intricately laid out fair play detective novels with nearly all of the clues being front-loaded in the first three chapters. One remark in a casual conversation between Eleanor Stanhope (Betty's frivolous and sarcastic older sister), Christabel Stanhope, and Vincent James (a playboy athlete who Eleanor seems to be in love with) may be easily dismissed as fluffy chitchat. But no! It is in fact something that should be filed away because it comes back to play an important part in the final reveal.

The Merrivale books tend to show off Carr's love of slapstick and low comedy. Apart from The Punch and Judy Murders, an all out farce and probably Carr's most ridiculous detective novel, The Gilded Man is probably his second most successful mystery as a comic farce. It has several and laugh out loud funny moments from some slapstick with snowballs to Merrivale's blustery outbursts. We learn that Merrivale is adept at sleight of hand tricks as well as stage illusions. When the planned entertainment for NewYear's Eve - magician Ram Das Singh, aka the Great Kafoozalum - sends a telegram that he cannot make it due to the snowstorm Merrivale volunteers to be his substitute.  The resulting rehearsal and final performance make for some hilarious scenes. The magic show itself is a huge hit with the invited schoolchildren who make up most of the audience especially when one audience member who loudly spoils nearly every trick by loudly explaining the secrets receives a well-deserved comeuppance. I confess I roared with laughter.

Finally, I thought this was one of Carr's most cinematically written novels.  It would make a terrific movie and wouldn't need much adaptation because it reads as if it were a screenplay. There is one chapter in particular written as if it were a long parallel edited sequence showing five different characters in their bedrooms mulling over the preceding events all at the same time.  It was an excellent sequence which of course included five subtle clues to the solution to the various mysteries. The setting also cries out to be viewed, especially the theater where two crucial scenes take place and where the unveiling of the murderer takes place during which all riddles and puzzles are explained in full.

The Gilded Man is easily obtained in a variety of paperback and hardcovers from both US and UK publishers. I found close to 125 copies offered for sale from several online sellers and most of them are very cheap. While the book has not been reprinted since the US IPL paperback in 1988 I suspect it will turn up soon from one of the reprint houses. It certainly ought to be reprinted! It's one of the most fun reads in the Henry Merrivale series. A breezy read and thoroughly entertaining mystery novel. And it may be the only one that most readers will be able to figure out on their own.

FIRST BOOKS: The Seven Sisters - Jean Lilly

Mr. Spencer, a gemologist, visits newlywed Nancy and Stanley Kent at the famed Prentice mansion. He informs them that he is doing research on the renowned Prentice Dowry Chain, an elaborate jeweled necklace made up of seven star sapphires known as the Seven Sisters. Much to Mr. Spencer’s dismay Nancy, Mrs. Prentice’s granddaughter, has never heard of the Prentice Dowry Chain and knows nothing about its existence among the many valuables in the house. Stanley, however, a clever young man if there ever was one, leads Spencer to a portrait of one of the Prentice ancestors. It’s Nancy’s great grandmother who is wearing an elaborate necklace and Spencer stands in awe of the painting sighing almost inaudibly, “The Seven Sisters!” Spencer allows the family to try and locate the necklace and he promises to return at a later date hopefully to examine the jewels in person. Thus begins a strange and macabre adventure involving buried secrets, stolen jewels, and murder.

I was utterly unprepared for what awaited me in the pages of The Seven Sisters (1928), the first mystery novel of Jean Lilly. The rambling narrative meanders through Stanley and Nancy’s courtship, an overview of Prentice genealogy, the setting up of the house, the relegation of the dozens of ancestral portraits that covers the walls, etc. etc. and so forth. This meandering all seemed to be going nowhere for the first 75 pages. Finally when Spencer shows up and delivers his two page monologue on the mineral composition of gemstones, the phenomenon of asterism, the difference between faceted gem cutting and the en cabochon method I started to see this would be yet another mystery novel about a missing item of jewelry and the crimes that follow in the wake of the jewels’ recovery. Little did I know that the story would take a bizarre detour into the land of pulpish gore and macabre thrills.

A star saphhire displaying
the asterism effect

Nancy’s grandmother Penelope, the only occupant in the Prentice home other than the handful of servants, refuses to talk about the Seven Sisters. A few days after Spencer showed up she dies of fright when a different strange man appears and confronts her and her gardener/handyman about the Prentice Dowry Chain. Just before Penelope dies she utters a fragmented message: “Under…oak...next…” Stephen takes the message to be a literal clue to the necklace’s hiding place, most likely beneath one of the oak trees that line the property. He spends one night digging and to his shock (and the reader’s) he uncovers some skeletal remains. Buried with the bones he finds an engraved pocket watch. Only a capital R is legible while the other two letters in the monogram have been worn away.

Increasingly the story becomes like Harry Stephen Keeler webwork concoction. An apt analogy because this is a book from E. P. Dutton, publisher of Keeler’s books from 1927 through 1942. Along with disinterred skulls and skeletons and the engraved pocket watch we get anonymous letters, a mystery woman residing in Room 34 of a hotel on Andover Road, an acrobatic burglar, and another buried body!

Surprisingly, with a small pile of buried corpses and a break-in at the Prentice home there’s not a single policeman in sight. Stephen in trying to protect the family name does call the coroner but tells him as little as he thinks the coroner needs to know. Stephen may be clever with his dying messages and handy with a shovel but he’s extremely foolish not to report the nuttiness going on at the Prentice property. His foolhardy decision to protect his wife’s family reputation leads to more death and violence. Coroner Bailey then takes matters into his own hands. He and Stephen turn sleuth and ultimately, after various wild adventures and more crime, the greedy culprits are tracked down, the necklace is recovered and the secret of the skeleton buried beneath the oak tree is explained.

Jean Lilly is as mysterious as the goings on in this debut novel. I know more about her husband and daughter than I do about her.  Jean McCoy Lilly (1886-1961) was born in Michigan and died in Pennsylvania.  She married Scott Barrett Lilly, well known professor of engineering at Swathmore College,  for whom an endowed scholarship is still named.  Her daughter Mary, born in 1910, graduated from Swathmore in 1933, studied painting at the Philadelphia Art institute and taught art there. Later she spent much of her life as an art teacher at Charlestown Elementary School in Malvern, PA.

Lilly is the author of four mystery novels with the last, Death Thumbs a Ride (1940), the easiest to find and the only other Lilly book that has been written about on the internet. While her first crime novel has no series character another Lilly mystery novel I own but have yet to read -- Death in B Minor (1934) -- features Bruce Perkins, her lawyer-detective who appeared in the last three books.

The Seven Sisters exists only in one US edition and is the scarcest of all the Lilly mystery novels. It was not reprinted in either hardcover or paperback during the author’s lifetime. While I enjoyed this oddity I wouldn’t break my neck (or bankbook) tracking down a copy. Despite its strange turn of macabre events it’s typical of 1920s American mysteries: not really a traditional detective novel but rather an adventure thriller overloaded with preposterous coincidences. Ultimately it all ends in a sadly predictable finale. With its old-fashioned prose style, unusual narrative tricks and creaky plotting it all reminded me of a book that might have been written in the late Victorian or early Edwardian era by either Richard Marsh or Mary Elizabeth Braddon.