A classic winter's crime novel by one of the most highly regarded exponents of the genre.
Victor Harleston awoke with uncharacteristic optimism. Today he would be rich at last. Half an hour later, he gulped down his breakfast coffee and pitched to the floor, gasping and twitching. When the doctor arrived, he recognised instantly that it was a fatal case of poisoning and called in Scotland Yard.
Despite an almost complete absence of clues, the circumstances were so suspicious that Inspector Hanslet soon referred the evidence to his friend and mentor, Dr Lancelot Priestley, whose deductions revealed a diabolically ingenious murder that would require equally fiendish ingenuity to solve.
An intellectually stimulating British "Whodunnit". It's all about the mystery. No extraneous plot elements. No personal or psychological trauma heaped on the detecting protagonists. No inter-office politics at Scotland Yard. Perfect!
2 of 2 people found this review helpful
the narrator did well, but the story was slow, and I had guessed 'whodunut' about halfway through. it seemed to take a long time to wrap the story up
The plot is intricate, but the solution was obvious at least halfway through the book.