Review by Nick Fuller
3/5
Carr's penultimate novel is an improvement on its immediate predecessors, but suffers from stylistic problems. The dialogue is a "verbose tirade, which would be a bore and a nuisance if it weren't so completely ludicrous," an impression by no means denied by the nasty habit of conversational description. There is an excess of "mysterious allusions and sentences not one of 'em will explain", complicated by "a trick of turning every straight question crooked so that it's like lunging at a fencer". The narrative flow is routinely broken a — what's that? The characters are afflicted with annoyingly facetious nicknames. This is frustrating, for the plot — buried treasure in a country house exported from Lincolnshire, a sinister staircase, and a will productive of several (attempted) murders — is solid enough, despite the unconvincing flowerpot business and the attack on Dave Hobart; and the gimmick, borrowed (with a central clue) from The Man Who Could Not Shudder, is ingenious and practical.
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