If you follow the Golden Age blogosphere with any moderate interest, you’ll be aware of the love Puzzle Doctor has for Brian Flynn and the efforts he has gone to, via the wonderfully accommodating people at Dean Street Press, to get as much of Flynn’s work as possible republished. I’ve been slow in my adoption of Flynn it must be said — I couldn’t get on with The Mystery of the Peacock’s Eye (1928), Murder en Route (1930), and one other title which escapes me now — but I’m back to give him another go in the form of the well-regarded twentieth novel to feature his amateur sleuth Anthony Bathurst, Tread Softly (1937). It…did not go well.

The main thrust of the plot is pleasingly already underway when we join proceedings: stage and screen actor Claude Merivale has handed himself in to the police for the murder of his wife, who he admits he strangled to death. The twist is that Merivale claims he was dreaming when he did it, and so there’s the small matter of how responsible he is. With Scotland Yard’s Chief Inspector ‘Mac’ MacMorran baffled about what tack to take, he turns to amateur detective Anthony Bathurst to attempt to untangle matters. It’s a novel problem, I have to give Flynn that, but as developments unfold it begins to introduce problems of a different kind.

Now, I don’t include spoilers in these reviews, and I’m not going to break that duck for something purely because it wasn’t for me, but there’s an early development in this one via a photograph that we, naturally, can’t see — if you want to click here for a very heavy hint that’s entirely your lookout — and as soon as that possibility is on the table, well, the mystery is immediately resolved. Indeed, the more people insist around that particular development, and the more Bathurst insists they’re wrong and he’s right, the only option is for the whole thing to become even more obvious. I appreciate that I’ve read a lot of mystery novels, however, and that I twigged to this trick easily before in another beloved book, so one’s mileage will vary.

That aside, I’m also not really a fan of Bathurst, which is fairly crucial given that he’s in most of the book. To me he’s just a cipher of a character who has an irritating habit of dropping quotations into his conversations with ‘Mac’ simply because that’s the one way to seem to give him personality. It’s like someone read Philo Vance and didn’t realise that the affected speech patterns and chaffing manner he adopts are also part of the character he plays. Again, though, if this doesn’t bother you, you’ll probably be fine.

So, what did I like?

Flynn adopts an interesting narrative approach in the first half where we see the case from lots of perspectives, and I thought this a very neat way to get round what would otherwise be some tedious evidence-gathering. I especially enjoyed the early letter from the Merivales’ maid who thinks Bathurst “must be somebody high up in the Cabinet or on the County Council or something like that”. The letters utilised throughout wander around as letters from these sorts of characters would, and show a keen eye for the minor touches of minor character work that is to be applauded.

And, in fairness, Bathurst’s investigation is pleasingly classical. When he first meets Merivale, the questions he asks this would-be murderer are pleasingly askance against expectation, and I do enjoy a scene where the detective is so far ahead of everyone else that all the other character can do is sit there and be nonplussed (I think this is why I enjoy a good Challenge to the Reader so much). There’s also only so much for Bathurst to do, and Flynn doesn’t drag things out too greatly, with Merivale’s trial completed at the end of the first half and the consequences thereof dealt with in the second.

Alas, the second half is where most of the problems creep in, with only so much ground to cover and an obviously-motivated murder that clogs up proceedings until Bathurst and MacMorran can retire to a quiet room and Anthony can spell it all out. Again, delightfully classical and very pleasing for this genre nerd, but most of what he says was already rather obvious, and I could find little in the denouement to get excited about.

Those of you who are able to glide over the massive hint in the opening section will probably have a better time with this, and could probably add a star to the above. This starts well, moves at a good lick, and is to be commended for playing as fair as it can given the visual nature of some of the clues. But four books into Brian Flynn’s oeuvre I’m just not convinced the man’s for me.