Case for Mr. Fortune (1932)
My review:
The Greek Play
Barzun & Taylor thought this tale of the hanging of Antigone (not suicide, but murder) at a girls’ school H.C.B.’s masterpiece. Although not the best among Bailey’s large output, the plot is excellent, with the details fitting neatly together, and both the slow revelation of identity and motive and the fine Fortunate justice at the end are impeccable.
The Mountain Meadow
Oh, dear. Bailey’s occasional cross-Channel forays may be excellent (one thinks of “The Hazel Ice” and “The Long Dinner”), but this tale of a murdered financier, who vanishes from his hotel and whose teeth are found in the mountain meadow, is distinctly poor.
The Pair of Spectacles
Mr. Fortune describes the story of the man shot dead in the park, presumably by his son (despite the curious behaviour of his secretary), as “the most ghastly blunder of his career.” It is not; that is to say, it is not the most ghastly blunder of his creator’s career, for he plays fair with the clues, particularly in regard to the significance of the spectacles, but the story is undistinguished.
The Bunch of Grapes
This is the case of Mr. Fortune’s “which his sister considers his best,” perhaps because she brought it to his attention, bringing him to Morton parish (and its church) on the trail of a poison-pen and a poisoner, and finding instead a murderous attack on the vicar—to the tune of The Mikado. Morbid psychology is typically fine, but we prefer The Great Game.
The Sported Oak
Poisoned chocolates (i.e., with emetic) are sent to the Vice Chancellor of “Oxbridge,” a man heavy on morals and “very pure mathematics. Brilliant person. But practically without intelligence.” Fortune feels that it is a “shockin’ thing to make a Vice Chancellor sick. Though probably wholesome. The fell intent is in the want of taste. I condemn and deplore it. But there's something fundamentally ridiculous about.” Ridiculous is a very apt term for the events of the tale, some of which border rather unfortunately on the jejeune: the Vice Chancellor and an unloved female are kidnapped; Reggie is attacked by a burglar, whom he dyes bright green; and there is a great to-do about stolen papyri. Amusing, but slighter than some.
The Oak Gall
Mr. Fortune is called on by the wife and son of Sir Wolseley Cooke to testify to his natural death, which, the death being from pneumonia, he does, but his attention is attracted not only to the oak gall under his pillow but by the curious behaviour of the family, to wit: “peculiar anxiety about life and death of patient by doctor and family: sardonic concentration on young love by patient: ironic comment by somebody outside.” His belief that these constitute “an explosive compound” are borne out by the murder of a retired sailor, suspicion falling on his granddaughter; Mr. Fortune, however, suspects a connection between the two deaths and does a good job of finding it. The twist at the end is masterly.
The Little Dog
The investigation into the “suicide” of the heir to the Basset estates shows Mr. Fortune’s talent for reasoning from physical clues, allowing him to discover the victim’s dog and, by extension, his murderer. The plot (elimination for inheritance) is standard, but well handled.
The Walrus Ivory
An accusation of theft in a boarding house prompts Mr. Fortune not only to defend the girl accused of theft, but to hunt for the missing lodger, and, when he is found in the river, to search for his murderer as well. The mixture of cryptograms, criminal gangs, Germans and artefact smuggling makes for a particularly gripping and exciting tale.