The Author in the Dog House

The Man in the Queue
by Josephine Tey

This entire review is marked Spoiler Alert.  So stop now if you don't want it ruined.

It was a mystery that just kept getting better.  On page 164 (out of 254) I guessed the murderer and then raced through the rest, waiting for the magical moment when Inspector Grant figured it out for himself. Such a clever guy--I quite adored him--with a pretty turn of speed when the chase demanded it. Over hill, over dale, over water and maybe even through water, if he didn't make the jump across the creek.

But he persisted in his pursuit, and in his blindness--until finally the author had to bludgeon him over the head with the evidence.  Okay, I said, disappointed that he hadn't figured it out for himself.  But I kept on reading as he went off with the evidence to trick a confession out of the murderer, thinking that at the least there were two potential murderers who would have had both means and opportunity and a closely related motive.  Who would it be?

So off to the unveiling!  Which fell as flat as ever an unveiling can tumble.  It wasn't either of them, at all.  And next thing you know, in the walks the real murderer to confess--and it's a brand-new character with absolutely no connection to any of the other suspects.

What a cheat!  Yeah the inspector was a great guy; the 'police procedural' tidy and sensible; with little or no contrived 'accidents' except finding the evidence at the end.  The location was grand and the writing very good with only one disconcerting perspective shift.  But...the ending stinked, stank, stunk, and I'm not sure if I can stomach another of her novels.  I'd like to try--there was so much to enjoy here--but can I face another disappointment?