These Dell paperbacks of the 1960s – this one was 50 cents – (published in ’61) really fit in your pocket! I read it propulsively. The Empty Robe is not high literature, but, as the much-beloved Saturday Review says on the front cover – above the title! – it’s “the most famous and baffling case of the century… absorbing, fascinating.”
This spouse you are married to, who is he, really? Could he have a secret showgirl-girlfriend you never know of, until one day he abruptly and inexplicably vanishes?
Yes, quite possibly he does.
But if you are Stella Crater, you will refuse to believe it, till you slip soundlessly into your grave.
A judge is an exalted, muttering, priest-like being – though Crater was only briefly a judge. It’s disturbing to think that a robe-clad jurist has a sex urge, limitless greed, dirty feet. (I’m not saying this is true of Crater. He remains – until I search on Wikipedia – an enigma.)
Opening the book at random:
“After the judge failed to return the following week, did you make any further inquiries?”
“Yes. I sent the chauffeur down to New York.”