The Mystery of the Skeleton Key by Bernard Capes

The Mystery of the Skeleton Key (Detective Club Crime Classics)

by Bernard Capes

The fourth in a new series of classic detective stories from the vaults of HarperCollins involves a tragic accident during a shooting party. As the story switches between Paris and Hampshire, the possibility of it not being an accident seems to grow more likely.

“The Detective Story Club”, launched by Collins in 1929, was a clearing house for the best and most ingenious crime stories of the age, chosen by a select committee of experts. Now, almost 90 years later, these books are the classics of the Golden Age, republished at last with the same popular cover designs that appealed to their original readers.

The Mystery of the Skeleton Key, first published in 1919, has the distinction of being the first detective novel commissioned and published by Collins, though it was Bernard Capes’ only book in the genre, as he died shortly before it was published. This is how the Detective Club announced their edition ten years later:

“Mr Arnold Bennett, in a recent article, criticised the ad hoc characterisation and human interest in the detective novels of to-day. “The Mystery of the Skeleton Key” contains, in addition to a clever crime problem and plenty of thrills, a sensible love story, humour, excellent characterisation and strong human interest. The scenes are laid in Paris and Hampshire. The story deals with a crime committed in the grounds of a country house and the subsequent efforts of a clever young detective the track down the perpetrator. The Selection Committee of “The Detective Story Club” have no hesitation in recommending this splendid thriller as one which will satisfy the most exacting reader of detective fiction.”

This new edition comes with a brand new introduction by Capes expert and anthologist, Hugh Lamb.

Reviewed by brokentune on

2 of 5 stars

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Not much of a review but I wanted to jot down a few notes on this book:

This is a short read. The book has a mere 204 pages. And yet, it took me what I perceived as an eternity to finish the book because:

1. The writing drove me nuts:

In an earlier discussion with a fellow reader, I referred the style of writing as that of hearing the voice of Jeeves for the entirety of the book without having the benefit of the grounded interjections of common sense summaries of a Wooster.

Another way to describe the narrative style, which, in addition to the stilted phrasings of a Jeeves, also thrived on an overuse of similes and metaphors is if you picture the film Murder by Death, that excellent spoof of the detective genre, where Peter Sellers plays an "oriental" detective who keeps confounding his fellow guests at a house party with phrases that are so obtuse that it is not clear where we are going. It works a treat in a spoof, but has no place in the actual mystery.

2. The plot...

I had a hunch about the culprit very early on, but could not figure out the motive. It is only in the last few pages of the book that we learn about the why of the murder. Too little, too late, and I really dislike that we are not allowed the relevant information throughout the book to come up with the solution ourselves.

3. I was bored, and I should not have been because there were some very interesting (for their time) observations on social mores in the book. Yet, they were buried in quite a lot of purple prose...so they mostly were lost on me.

Gaaaaah. Next!

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  • Started reading
  • 9 September, 2019: Finished reading
  • 9 September, 2019: Reviewed