An early work from Connington, with neither a murder nor police. The Dangerfields are a family of English aristocrats living in their ancestral home. The story opens with an ill-assorted house party being taken to see the famous Dangerfield Talisman -- a gold Viking wristband covered in jewels -- which is neither locked away nor insured. 'The Talisman may be stolen', says old Rollo Dangerfield mysteriously, 'but it always comes back'. Other Dangerfield bric-a-brac include a mysterious chess problem, some Biblical quotes, and a leather washer on a string -- what can it all mean?
The Talisman is stolen that night, of course, and all the guests are under suspicion. Is it the young spinster with gambling debts (curse that contract bridge!)? Or the American collector who wants to buy it? And why is Rollo Dangerfield so reluctant to call in the police? The bumptious Freddie Stickney tries to stir things up, and the Talisman reappears on schedule, but the detection which eventually restores the Dangerfield fortunes is largely due to the -- otherwise unchronicled? -- Mr. Westenhanger.
Competently done, with as much interest as a case without murder or police can muster. There were rather too many characters for me to keep track of, and a little too much British stiff-upper-lippery: "You don't mean you suspect the ladies, old man?" "Good lord, no!" And someone ought to point out to impoverished aristocrats that inviting a dozen strangers for an indefinite stay is not the best way to eke out the family fortunes. But I enjoyed the leisurely investigation.
Jon.| < Prev | Next > |
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