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Then the body of Sir Marcus Coverly is found in a crate headed out to sea. The ensuing investigation leads Dr. Greefe deeper into Egypt's mysteries. And into -- the Green Eyes of Bast!
Sax Rohmer was a prolific author of early science fiction and fantasy. He was perhaps best known for creating the super-villian, Dr. Fu Manchu -- a character who went on the become the subject of many films and, in fact, much plundering. (Think about it for a moment: how many evil Chinese Mandarin masterminds have you heard tell of? Remember Ian Fleming's Dr. No? Remember Lo-Pan, from Big Trouble in Little China? Be careful. They're everywhere.)
311 pages, Harcover
First published June 1, 1920
Jeez, how wrong can a plot synopsis be? The one here at Goodreads begins "Psychic investigator Dr. Damar Greefe is strolling home. It's been a tough day, assisting the police."
That's wrong on three counts. The protagonist's name is actually Jack Addison. (Dr. Damar Greefe is, in fact, "Eurasian" evil genius in this juicy tale.) Jack Addison is a journalist, not a psychic investigator -- though arguably he has reported on sensational cases (we've little to go on regarding his career), and, finally, he is not coming home from assisting the police. He's simply walking home -- there's no mention of what he was doing beforehand.
But quibbles with the erroneous plot summary given here aside, this is classic Sax Rohmer, taut and atmospheric, with not one but two mysteries to unfurl, and so many chestnuts in the proverbial narrative fire that the reader is presented with a pulp fiction feast.
Evil genius? Check. Bizarre and seemingly insolvable murder? Check. Mysterious oriental curse? Check. Stout-hearted English hero and stolid policemen? 'Natch. Damsel in distress? You betcha. Oh, and throw in the byzantine legacy of a noble family, an assortment of exotic minor characters, including a Nubian mute, a gypsy woman, several lunk-headed lotharios, and a sterling manservant/former batman (no, not the Bruce Wayne sort... the military servant kind), and it's clear that Christmas has come early for lovers of pulp fiction.
It's not that this tale is without fault, mind you. The hero and the police detective in charge are prone to long stretches of theorizing and ruminating over the Facts of the Case. There is far too little of the tantalizing "green eyes" of title. And the murder methodologies, while ingenious, are almost laughably Rube Goldberg-esque. Still, these are mere cavils, for ultimately there is the great mystery behind the murder mystery that draws the reader along, and that one, my friends, is a hum-dinger.