I was searching online for in image of this book cover and found this old one, which is cool, so I decided to use this even though my book looks nothing like it.
Another novel by Carter Dickson--the guy I've mentioned in earlier blogs and who wrote under three or four different names and published loads of great books--who is considered the absolute BEST "locked room" murder mystery writer there ever has been. (And he's not even British but American!) This one was published in 1935 and while political events are not expressly mentioned, the general sense of economic and legal instability is present throughout the book. This novel is very good, but I am not convinced that it is excellent. Yet I would still recommend it to anyone who wants an exciting and very weird albeit cozy mystery.
The book it told from the point of view of our hero Ken. He doesn't say how old he is, but I would guess in his mid to late 30s given the point he's at in his career and life. He has been to university, served in the military but was weeded out relatively quickly and placed in "intelligence" because he has a gift for language (French and German particularly) and is smarter than most. Apparently he pissed someone off (he doesn't give details but his recent job was cut short and as the story begins is sidelined with nothing to do and both peeved and hurt about it. We find him sitting at a table of an outdoor cafe in Paris. And then on page four the novel gets really interesting and strange and creates a set up that Alfred Hitchcock should have put to film. And Cary Grant would be amazing in the lead--but the name "Ken" has to go. Cary Grant is not a "Ken.")
So, first, a waiter is inexplicably rude, demanding to seen Ken's "papers". Given that his papers are government employee papers, Ken is reluctant to reveal those as he's playing the part of a tourist/travelor with no particular purpose. Then the waiter gets extremely angry and calls over a policeman who assumes the worst and demands to see Ken's papers, too. So, Ken hands them over to the policeman who takes them away, claiming he he needs to "check things" with his superiors.
Then the next weird this happens: Evelyn, a pal from university who also got scooped up into British intelligence walks over to him. She looks nervous as hell and recites a ridiculous, seemingly meaningless nursury rhyme. Having completed her task, she plops down as says, "Thank God it's you--I didn't know who to expect at this pick up." Now Ken realizes he's really in the soup as he has coded information he shouldn't have. He also realizes that he's still burning a torch for her (he refers to her as "wench" when exasperated). Evelyn asks him how he's going to "get the unicorn" and he says, honestly, that he has no idea--that his "instructions didn't explain that". He then pumps her for information, hoping that eventually he'll know enought to fake his way through to complete the job. (By this point we can see why he'd piss off his superiors.)
Evelyn explains that she has no idea what "the unicorn" is--a weapon, a person, a book, a chemical?--it could be anything. All she knows is that Ken is supposed to be on a specific private plane at 9 pm. Ken decides they better get a move on in case the real agent who is supposed to get her coded message (which is meaningless to both of them) shows up. And then he remembers that he no longer has his papers and there is no sign of either the policeman OR the waiter. Now he's in a pickle because technically he's in Paris illegally and can't get home. He's also been cut off from his handlers and so doesn't even know how to contact anyone for support.
As they walk back to his hotel to get his things and work out a plan, Evelyn explains that she knows that "Gasquet", a nickname of famous Parisian police cheif who is a master at disguises (sort of like Sherlock Holmes), and "Flamande", another nickname for a notorious psychopath who murders and destabilizes countries for fun and who is also a master of disguises), are involved: the unicorn is to be delivered to Gasquet and Flamande has brazenly announced to all Parisian newpapers that he fully intends to steal it and use it for evil.
Ken gets an inspiration and convinces Evelyn to work with him. She has a car and so they decide they can drive to the pick up point together thereby avoiding public transportation that would require ID. Evelyn is easily convinced (it's implied she's pining for Ken as much as he is for her) and into her snappy roadster they jump. Then the weater gets foul and the heavens release a downpour. THEN, as Evelyn struggles to see the road, read a map and avoid driving into a ditch, they are shot at by someone in a car speeding to catch up with them. Is it the waiter or the policeman? It certainly looks like them but in the heavy rain, Ken isn't certain. After wild turns on narrow roads and alleys, they are out in farm country and their pursuers lose control of their car and end up in a river. Then ANOTHER car--this time a taxi--starts after them (same guy in a different car or someone else working with that guy?), madly chasing them down, seemingly hellbent on driving them into a river. And it works--Evelyn spins out in muddy rainwater coursing through the sunken lane and they smash into a tree. Up pulls the taxi and out jumps our old friend, H.M. (Henry Merrivale), our hero from so many other Dickson books. H.M. was chasing them, but to warn them of the dangers they were heading into, not to harm them. It turns out in this novel HM is not a lawyer (or if he is, he isn't doing lawyerly things) as he ALSO works for intelligence and knows something (but not much) of the unicorn exchange between England and France, too. Fortunately, they are within easy walking distance of the private airstrip where the unicorn is supposed to arrive. Unfortunately, they are on the wrong side of a river that is swelling in size and force by the second. After struggling to get across, they get to the air strip field and in comes the awaited plane. And all this has happened within the first 15 of so pages of the book!
Out of the plane climb about six people, all with outrageous back stories, appearances and accents. And then, by amazing coincidence, arrives a very dramatic character--Comte d'Andrieu (with a highly suspicious accent and backstory)--who informs everyone that his castle/home is just across the way through a bit of woods, and he welcomes them all to his home for a warm dinner, baths, drinks by the fire, and a good night's sleep. What a fortuitous turn of events! (But where's the unicorn and what is it? Still our heros do not know. And who are all these people getting off the plane and do they have anything to do with the unicorn exchange?) Assisted by d'Andrieu's servants (two of whom look alarmingly like our old friends the waiter and policeman), everyone gets to the house, gets a room assignment (see cover of book image above) and is intructed to get warm and dry and then come down for dinner which will be laid out for them in a massive dining hall on the first floor. All head up to the second floor to their rooms (where there is no electrical power so everything is in shadows and no one can tell who is who in the dark). A mere three minutes later they hear a crash, sounds of a struggle and yelling. Everyone runs out of their rooms to the hallway that leads to the top of the stairs where they see a corpse--the first of many to appear before the night is over--dead as a doornail at the bottom of the stairs. AND he has a giant puncture wound in the middle of his forehead--a hole exactly the size and shape if it were made by a unicorn horn! Well!! Everyone is shocked (or are they?) and everyone declares they want to leave--but they can't as the rains have continued and the flotilla (where did that come from?) they used to get to the house is broken into bits and they are completely surrounded by raging flood waters.
So much for the set up. As in all "locked room" mysteries we have a fixed number of possible murderers (no random weirdo from the outside did it), no obvious suspect, no murder weapon and no physically possible explanation for how the guy was murdered. And who is that guy anyway? No one seems to know. Before the next hour is over, we find out that both Gasquat and Flamande are among those in the house and both have disguised themselves so we can't know who is the good guy and who is the lying psychopath.
They all decide to solve the murder by reconstructing the crime (meanwhile what's happening with their dinner? I couldn't stop thinking about it. And aren't they freezing cold and desperate to get out of thei rsoaking wet clothes? I kept thinking of Evelyn wearing soggy nylons in wet heeled shoes--so uncomfortable) and more people are killed for their efforts. It's not long before no one trusts anyone, accusations fly and nerves are raw. And what in the hell is the unicorn and where is it?
Then Dickson does what he always does and has various characters propose solutions with their explanations of motive and method. Each turns out to be impossible given the location of each suspect at key moments and the access points of each room. (Yes there are secret windows and passages discovered but none actually explain any of the murders.) By the time I heard the 10th effort I had no idea what had really happened and what hadn't happened. Of course H.M. solves the whole thing just as the rain stops and the sun rises, bringing much needed light to the matter. And of course Ken and Evelyn make clear that they intend to spend a LOT more time together in the future. (Mr. and Mrs. Smith, perhaps.) As for the unicorn? It was never on the plane as England had made the transfer over to Paris the day before and this whole situation was a giant trap to lure Flamande out of hiding so he could be caught.
Overall the book is both satisfying and deeply frustrating--the characters are extremely enjoyable and the snappy dialogue excellent. But truly, even with the map of the rooms and carefully prepared time lines provided to me by H.M., I really had NO IDEA who "done it" because everyone (except H.M., Ken and Evelyn) lie repeatedly about who they are and what political or police entity they work for. Every time someone was caught out they just spun more lies. I recommend that anyone who decides to take on this novel (1) read it is the afternoon and not just before bedtime like I did and and (2) have pencil and paper to hand to make extensive notes.