If you’re looking for a straight-up mystery, try The Man in the Lower Ten by Mary Roberts Rinehart. Rinehart is one of the grand dames of mystery from last century. Her mystery novels are usually very well done and smart; the more romantic thriller ones aren’t nearly as good (too much romantic hysteria).
Attorney Lawrence Blakely has to take important documents to a client in Pittsburgh and depose the client. On his return trip, there is a mix-up in berths and another man takes his assigned bed in lower ten. When Blakely wakes up, he discovers his own clothes replaced by another man’s suit, his suitcase containing the important documents stolen, and the man in lower ten dead—stabbed in the heart. The mystery only grows when there is a terrible train accident and many of the occupants of that train car—both possible suspects and witnesses—are missing and presumed dead. Blakely finds himself suspected in the murder of the man in lower ten and races to prove his innocence, find the documents, and discover the connection between the murdered man and a beautiful young woman on the train with whom he is besotted.
This novel is fairly short, under 200 pages, just the right length for this mystery. It is intriguing and I enjoyed it, although Blakely, the narrator, is annoying. For a lawyer, he isn’t all that smart sometimes. He’s way too blinded by his immediate attraction to the mysterious woman (and fellow survivor) on the train. She’s clearly involved somehow but he keeps telling himself, oh, no, she’s too delightful and sweet to be involved in this crime. His obstinate refusal to question her about her connections to the unsavory people involved in this criminal affair gets exhausting. As much as I enjoyed this, I was happy to have it end due to the “I wuv her SOOOOO much” nonsense.
This book was written in 1906 and that is fascinating. It’s well worth reading novels written a century ago because the story and prose gives readers a glance into daily life. I didn’t get some of the witticisms and cultural references—while contemporary readers would have understood them, readers a century later are puzzled—but I liked the contrast between modern now and modern then. Blakely owns the house he lives in and has four servants (at least one lives in the house with him) to keep his life running smoothly. There’s a really good joke here about men needing all this support (and all of them—with the exception of the stable boy—are women) but I’ll not to make it (I’ll just laugh to myself). When he’s on the train, the Pullman porters are all men and all African-American. At one point, Blakely refers to his porter as a “darky.” (Not verbally.) Considering this book was written not long after the Civil War, it’s surprising that’s the only instance of casual racism I found. Although I’ve read a lot of her books and Rinehart’s prose rarely includes racist language or plots. After the train wreck, I kept waiting for first responders to swarm the area but that doesn’t happen. People died or stumbled from the wreck (as Blakely and the young lady do) and seek out their own medical assistance. When they finally make it into a small rural village, a woman sees them in the street and tells them to go to her house and eat breakfast and try to recover. Her directions to her house: “Turn at the second pigsty to the left!” I thought: what? But the characters knew exactly what she meant—a literal pigsty. What we would maybe refer to as a pig pen, the farmer’s wife meant pigsty because it didn’t mean (yet) what it does today—a messy, cluttered, slovenly space. There were several times in the novel I caught myself thinking, “why don’t they just take a taxi/rent a car?” Ha. Cars weren’t popular yet (only Blakely’s partner had one; Blakely himself preferred polo ponies) and when the characters did need to get somewhere quickly, they ended up hiring a horse and buggy. I also don’t think electricity was all that widespread yet because they often lit candles at night. There was a certain amount of midnight prowling around and flashlights would have really been helpful for them.
This is a decent mystery and introduction to the author Mary Roberts Rinehart. My other favorites by her: The Swimming Pool and The Yellow Room. I haven’t read these in a while, but I remember really liking them: Miss Pinkerton, The Album, and The Bat.