H. Warner Allen (1881–1968)

An eccentric millionaire philanthropist -- allegedly a saint, but facts quickly prove otherwise -- is shot in the back in his London pied a terre. Artist Phillip Trent, as before, offers to help Scotland Yard solve the crime. As it turns out, the old boy's schedule on the last day of his life was a great deal busier than initial reports might suggest, and had a lot more skullduggery in it. The mystery itself is pretty good, though I was annoyed at Bentley and co-author Allen for hiding the ball as to one item that comes up in an early chapter -- we're deliberately kept in the dark about it. And speaking of annoyance, Trent can be a bit of a pain. If one were stuck in a room with Philo Vance, Phillip Trent, and one's self, there'd be hardly a jury in the world that would convict on a charge of multiple homicide. The tossing off of substantial blocks of text in French is all well and good, but a bit of show-offery. Borderline recommendation.… (mehr)