The Lost Gallows

Henri Bencolin #2

by John Dickson Carr

It started when El Moulk's automobile roared crazily through a London fog, its driver dead as a herring. The car screeched to a stop in front of that creaky relic of ancient horrors, the Brimstone Club. Through its cavernous rooms and gaslit passages a murderer hunted victims for a private gallows. The calling cards of a notorious hangman, a miniature gibbet, a length of rope, and an inscription from the tomb of Egyptian kings warned El Moulk and his dazzling French mistress that death was on their trail. It was a perfect case for Bencolin, a detective who preferred fantastic murders.

Genres: Mystery, Crime, Fiction, Classics, Detective, London, British Literature

217 pages, Mass Market Paperback

First published January 1, 1931

About the author

AKA Carter Dickson, Carr Dickson and Roger Fairbairn.

John Dickson Carr was born in Uniontown, Pennsylvania, in 1906. It Walks by Night, his first published detective novel, featuring the Frenchman Henri Bencolin, was published in 1930. Apart from Dr Fell, whose first appearance was in Hag's Nook in 1933, Carr's other series detectives (published under the nom de plume of Carter Dickson) were the barrister Sir Henry Merrivale, who debuted in The Plague Court Murders (1934).

Reviews

[K.J. Charles]

Pulp fiction reprint of the 'gibbering nonsense Scooby Doo crime' variety, enlivened by some great set pieces like the car chase where on car is driven by a corpse. Buckets of racism and misogyny with bonus ableism and a very silly plot that doesn't really follow through on the glory of its opening premise.

[Eva Müller · Rating 2 out of 5]

Carr really should be exactly for me: over-the-top pulpy mysteries about fiendish villains who don't only make elaborate plans that makes it seem like they have an alibi for the time of the murder, no they are also in it for the aesthetic. They are doing all this for a particular reason and the murder and everything that surrounds it needs to match that reason. I love that stuff and can even overlook some of its issues....like that women in pulp fiction generally are only allowed to be distressed damsels, love interests, femme fatales (or distressed love interests). I did roll my eyes at Bencolin (and I guess in extension also Carr) slagging off crime writers who go for more ordinary, down-to-earth mysteries. I mean I knew what I was getting into when picking up this book, no need to piss on books that belong to a completely different end of the sub-genre. But I could have overlooked that as well. The ableism was harder to ignore but sadly it's also not exactly surprising for books of that time and type.

But what really made me realise that Carr is probably just not for me is that I have now read several of his stories and in all of them I read and after a while noticed that I have absorbed absolutely nothing of what happened in the last view paragraphs (or sometimes pages). He just has a writing-style that makes my thoughts wander to everything but what's actually on the page. His narrator is just so...rambling. The Bencolin books do go for a Holmes/Watson dynamic with Jeff Marle, a faithful biographer, recording Bencolin's adventures. It's possible that it's supposed to show that Marle really has no clue what's going on and gives a lot of unnecessary information but he doesn't only do that he describes everything in a similar way...it all sounds the same no matter if he's describing interior decoration or fighting for his life.

[Jeanette · Rating 3 out of 5]

Slow. 2.5 stars rounded up for the period exact placements and characters. I did guess the perp before the half.

[Nancy Oakes · Rating 4 out of 5]

(read some time back -- just now in catch up mode)
full post is here
http://www.crimesegments.com/2023/11/...

3.7 rounded up ... I've had such great fun with this short mystery series.

Bencolin and Marle are in London to see a play, and there they are staying with one of Bencolin's old friends, Sir John Landervorne, the former assistant police commissioner of the Metropolitan police. Landervorne lives at the Brimstone Club (which right away brought to mind the legendary Hellfire Club ) and our two friends are his guests there. Over tea hanging becomes the topic of conversation, as Bencolin recalls a story about the "odd murder" of a man discovered by the Paris police "dressed in the sandals and gold robes of an Egyptian noble of four thousand years ago," who'd been shot in the head." The sequel, Bencolin notes, was that while in a French prison, an "Englishman" had hanged himself, using the sheets of his bed." From there, Landervorne launches into his own hanging story, about a man who recently had become involved in "some queer business" after having had one too many and getting lost in the fog. It seems that the man had seen "the shadow of a gallows and a rope," and that "the shadow of Jack Ketch was walking up the steps to adjust the rope." Sir John dismisses it as a "cock-and-bull" story, but Bencolin wants to know more. Just as Bencolin is remarking the strangeness of seeing a gibbet "under one's own window," Sir John calls his attention to a chair in the room, on which a model of one sits:

"no more than eight inches high ... made of cedar wood painted black. Thirteen steps led up to the platform, to a trap held in place by tiny hinges and a rod. From the crossbeam dangled a small noose of twine."

The lounge steward identifies it as belonging to another resident of the Brimstone Club, a certain Nazem El Moulk, who had received it earlier that day in the mail. A fun start, for sure, but the true mystery begins after the play when Marle is nearly run down by a dead man driving a limousine.

In this installment of the Bencolin series, Carr offers up a bit of detective fun that blends British lore, a bit of Egyptian flair and an intriguing mystery from the past, all of which together make for a crafty whodunit. As with the other books I've read in this short series, The Lost Gallows narrowly skirts the supernatural without actually going there. Carr does a great job of enticing the reader into the story pretty much right away, raising the tension and darkening the atmosphere little by little as the investigation goes on. There's also a bit of meta going on here, as the author delves into the subject of writing crime fiction and the pitfalls faced by writers in the genre when it comes to pleasing their audiences. Once again, I didn't guess the who, which made me a very happy camper, but I did enjoy the journey, and spent quite a bit of time down the rabbit of hole of researching Jack Ketch and the history of British executions in general. While modern readers may find these books a bit on the tedious side, I never get tired of them ... I've grown used to Carr's long-winded style by now, and quite honestly, I'm always impressed with the way in which he puts his mysteries together. And, as I've said before about this series, the books are just plain fun and provide solid entertainment for a few hours when I need an escape.

Recommended for diehard readers of mysteries of this period, as well as for fans of the British Library Crime Classics series, which is absolutely awesome.

[Sergio · Rating 3 out of 5]

I gialli di Dickson Carr si distinguono per le accurate caratterizzazioni e il finale a sorpresa ma le opere di inizio carriera come questo che hanno per protagonista l'ispettore Bencolin si presentano ancora un po' acerbi benché di piacevole lettura

[Jiří Pavlovský · Rating 3 out of 5]

Tohle je návrat klasického Carra. Už jen název slibuje zmizelou šibenici, a to nebude jediná podivnost v knize. Máme tu pomstu ze záhrobí, mumii, tajemného muže, co se neviditelně dostává do bytů a nechává po sobě maketu šibenice, auto řízené mrtvým mužem, oběšence v neexistující ulici a spoustu dalších atmosférických hrůz.

Většina děje se odehrává v klubu, který byl kdysi divoký, ale v době děje knihy působí asi tak divoce, jako dívka, která chce vyrazit dech v plavkách z roku 1890 (román se odehrává v třicátých letech, takže i tam je to pasé). Je to prostředí, jak píše autor, plné zkrachovalých dobrodruhů, hotel s lehkým nádechem sebevraždy. Dříve si tam muži vodili dámy, které okamžitě po vstupu na pokoj omdlévaly, čímž mužům usnadňovaly práci… a prozíravě se probouzely až v okamžicích, když už neměly moc na výběr. (Dobře, dnešní doba by se na to koukala trochu dogmatičtěji, ale to byla divoká sexuální viktoriánská éra.) Carr si vůbec užívá sarkastických popisů, má tu výrazné postavy, střety francouzského a anglického uvažování, a samozřejmě nechává postavy diskutovat o moderních hodnotné literatuře, která působí, jako by ji autor přeložil z jazyka, který tak úplně neovládá.

A některé věci se nemění:
„Vždycky se varujte toho, když vás někdo zve do skvělého podniku, který nikdo nezná. To jsou přesně ty podniky, které znají všichni. Čím menší jsou, čím je těžší je najít v labyrintu postranních uliček, tím víc si můžete být jistí, že to bude peklo přecpané k zadušení nadšenými Kolumby. Když se mě nějaký návštěvník Paříže ptá na nějaké tiché a nezkažené místo, vždycky mu doporučím Ritz. (…) V Paříži jsou tak tři snesitelné restaurace a jsou použitelné jen proto, že jsou tak oslavované, že do nich nikdo nechodí.“

Funguje i finále, kde se hrdina plíží za padouchem – to už má nádech klasického hororu.
Zase, na druhou stranu, jako detektivka to není nic ohromujícího. Když odhlédneme k tomu, že detektiv, inspektor Bencolin, je už víc psychická choroba než geniální detektiv, tak to převratné řešení moc geniální není a spočívá hlavně ve věcech, ze kterých by páter Knox neměl radost. Celkově kniha stojí víc na atmosféře, popisech a viktoriánské makabričnosti, než na geniálním zvratu.
Ostatně, o tom, že se víc pracuje s napětím, vypovídá i skutečnost, že původně vyšla knížka se zapečetěnými posledními cca 40 stránkami… a pokud jste přinesli knihu do knihkupectví s nepoškozenou pečetí (že vás zase tak moc nezajímá, jak to dopadne), vrátili vám peníze.
Tedy, fakt nevím, kdo by si to dneska troufnul.

[M. · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is my second John Dickson Carr novel, the first being Hag's Nook, which I loved. I liked The Lost Gallows, but didn't find it rose to the level of Hag's Nook. I was halfway through the book when I realized why that was.

The lead character in The Lost Gallows is Henri Bencolin, Surete detective and all around mysterious character. The narrator of this book, Jeff Marle, describes him as looking like Mephisto with his tall frame, dark mustache and pointed beard. Bencolin is one of those detectives who figures everything out from early on and lets his associates (and the reader) know that he knows...and then simply keeps on with the steps of the investigation.

The investigation in this case is the kidnapping of one of Bencolin and Marle's fellow residents at the Brimstone Club, a very shady gentleman's hotel in London. After a truly macabre car chase that makes the case one of murder, it becomes clear that a killer has an old score to settle...and fully intends to torment his victims along the way to his gallows.

As in Hag's Nook, Carr sets the scene masterfully and sustains an underlying level of suspense and ghoulishness throughout the book. His descriptions of the eerie Brimstone Club and the shrouded streets of London are very effective, to the point that they almost become characters in their own right.

So why didn't this book fully click with me? The characters. Sadly, not one of them was likeable. Bencolin comes off as haughty, sinister and cruel; Jeff Marle (the narrator) is vaguely defined; his love interest is shrewish; and on it went. There really was no one to root for in this book, and that combined with the oppressive atmosphere of the Brimstone Club and dreary London, made this a somewhat uncomfortable book.

Unless that was the point?

[Rick Mills · Rating 1 out of 5]

This is not the usual Carr locked-room mystery. I struggled through it. I find Carr a bit hard to follow, as his writing tends to follow the random, unrelated thoughts of the narrator and focus is lost. What is he talking about, anyway? It is unclear what relationship Jeff Marle, the narrator, has with the characters other than describing events; and he is not even identified by name until well into the book. The Jack Ketch character drops tidbits about hangings having occurred in Ruination Street, which confounds the investigators as there is no such street. An explanation is provided at the end but it is extremely obscure. Sharon Grey and Colette Laverne are one-dimensional characters perhaps brought in just to have some women in the cast. A rule of fair play is violated in the identity of the mysterious Jack Ketch, and the ending requires explanation to the reader. Most, but not all, of the loose ends are tied up at the end. Caution: Use of the n-word to describe persons of African-American ancestry.

[Leah · Rating 4 out of 5]

Hanging out with Jack Ketch...

M. Henri Bencolin, head of the Parisian detective force, is visiting London with his young American friend Jeff Marle. They are staying at the notorious Brimstone Club, a gentleman’s club where past members have been reputed not to behave like gentlemen. Anyone can become a member so long as they can afford the fees, and it has seen more than its fair share of shady characters cross its Gothic-like threshold. Bencolin’s old friend Sir John Landervorne, once of Scotland Yard and now retired, lives at the club, and it’s he who tells Bencolin and Marle of the strange occurrence that sets them all on the trail of a murderer who calls himself “Jack Ketch”, a nickname commonly used for the public hangman. One night, lost in a London fog, a young man saw the shadow of a gallows reflected on a wall, and a man climbing the stairs towards the noose. Later that evening, Bencolin and his friends themselves witness something even stranger – a car being driven by a corpse…

This is the third book in Carr’s Bencolin series. (I think – the last one was also billed as the third but is now being called the second, so there’s an extra mystery that remains unsolved! It doesn’t matter though, they all stand alone.) Written when Carr was very young, each of the three I’ve read have a strong horror element to go along with Carr’s trademark “impossible” crime. Bencolin himself is a darkly mysterious detective, brilliant but rather cold. The only things he shows any passion about are catching his villain, and proving his superiority to all other detectives. Marle acts as his unofficial sidekick and narrator of the stories.

Carr makes excellent use of the London fog in this one, and all the stuff about gallows and hangmen is beautifully chilling, especially since the book is set back in the days when hanging was still the punishment for murder. And it soon transpires that Jack Ketch may be seeking revenge for a crime that has gone unpunished by the law. The victim of Jack Ketch’s scheme is an Egyptian, also a member of the Brimstone, who is being terrorised by a series of strange items turning up in his rooms or arriving through the mail – all things that seem to mean something to him and have him fearing for his life. And then he disappears! It’s up to Bencolin to find out the real identity of Jack Ketch before any more murders are done.

I must admit I was a good way into this before I could get my head round the plot at all – there seem to be an awful lot of people and lots of apparently unconnected incidents at first. But it all begins to come together about halfway through, and then moves into a spookily thrilling ending, full of Gothic horrors and an almost, but not quite, supernatural feel to it. I didn’t find the “how” aspects of this one quite as mysterious as usual – I had a reasonably good idea of most of it well before the end – and the motive is never really hidden. But I admit to being totally blind-sided by the “whodunit” solution. I was so sure it was …….. but it turned out it was actually……..! Who’d have guessed?! In truth, I think the rather lacklustre characterisation of everyone except Bencolin and Marle made the guessing quite difficult – this is much more of a puzzle than a character-driven story. When Bencolin explains it all at the end, though, I had to admit it had been fair-play – the clues were all there for those eagle-eyed enough to spot them.

Another entertaining entry in this series, though not perhaps my favourite. The book has the added bonus of a Bencolin short story, The Ends of Justice, which is another “impossible” crime – a distinctly unlikely one, I felt, but that didn’t prevent me enjoying it!

NB I received a free copy of the book without obligation to review from the publisher, the British Library.

www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com

[Les Wilson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not a bad book but I found it a little disappointing.

[EuroHackie · Rating 2 out of 5]

This is a story written by a cocky 24-year-old who thinks he's writing literary masterpieces, and it certainly reads like it. So much nonsense that outshines the mystery, which is so overwrought and unbelievable that perhaps that's why it was smothered in a thick fog of BS.

[Two Envelopes And A Phone · Rating 4 out of 5]

A solid, rewarding Murder Mystery, with a few disappointing elements to the manifold trickery festooning the main question: Who killed Nezam El Moulk that weird night in London?

Actually, that is NOT the question. El Moulk "feels" dead, there is a certain aura of finality to his disappearance - but, in fact, he has mysteriously disappeared shortly after embarking on a trip across town, as piloted by his chauffeur. The book opens with our sleuth, Bencolin, and his sidekick Jeff Marle - newly arrived but being brought up to speed on strange events surrounding certain individuals - suddenly confronted with Nezam el Moulk's car racing crazily through the foggy night, and driven by what looks to be a deceased chauffeur.

Like some other Carr books, this one gives the strong impression of hiding a diabolical mastermind, cloaked in a sinister alias - in this case, the fiend amok in London is "Jack Ketch". Jack Ketch was the legendary name of a merciless hangman, master of ultimate justice. This incarnation - whoever he or she really is - seems to have been plaguing El Moulk...and our larger-than-life detective Bencolin, has arrived in London, from Paris, on a key night, a night exploding with inexplicable chaos. El Moulk, who had been tormented with gifts of ill-omen - both sent through normal delivery channels, but also apparently appearing from nowhere - has now disappeared to some place called "Ruination Street". A little further on, Bencolin nervously adjusts to the idea that El Moulk, missing and/or dead, may not be the only target...

This is an early John Dickson Carr Mystery, and it operates somewhat at the level of a book that preceded it - the author's debut, It Walks By Night, of the same series. I thought for every three things that were vintage Carr brilliance, perhaps one part of the puzzle was a little beneath the later Carr, of Hollow Man, or Mad Hatter days. Still, all that trademark creepiness is here, even if a few details explaining it don't match the prestidigitation of later, pure-genius John Dickson Carr. I can tell you that it was the sort of Carr effort that had me realizing, over the hours passing once I'd completed it, that I wasn't giving him enough credit for the stuff that was really good in it. One daring aspect of the novel's premise does remind me of a certain late entry in the Nero Wolfe series, which is cool, since this book is from decades earlier.

A strong, satisfying whodunit, not among his very best. Earlier this year, I read The Plague Court Murders, which I recommend a bit more enthusiastically, but so far my year chilling with, or getting the chills from, John Dickson Carr has been a blast.

[Greg · Rating 3 out of 5]

Dame Agatha Christie and Her Peers
1931
This author was born in the USA but moved and wrote British-style mysteries.
Cast - 3 stars: Detective Bencolin, his friend Jeff Marle (American, why is he around?) and Sir John Landervone (EX-Scotland Yard) are here...sort of. I just couldn't picture them at all. But Jack Ketch, a famous hangman from the 17th century is everywhere. Maybe that's the point?
Atmosphere - 4 stars: The Brimstone (natch) has red plush rooms and lots of mirrors and shadows of gallows. It also has hammering and lumbering noises, is someone building something above? Below? Nowhere cause it's ol' Ketch up to fun times again? But I kept thinking of brothels. Hey, where's Madame and her lovelies?
Crime - 3: Someone was shot ten years ago? Will Ketch hang the killer, finally? Sounds promising! Problem is...
Investigation - 2 stars: ...I will just quote Bencolin: "...guilt was so glaringly apparent from the first..."
Resolution - 1 star: Nope. No way. No Oh please. Just NOPE.
Summary - 2.6. Maybe my expectations were too high. Lost gallows? Brimstone Club? A missing street? Hangman's Ghost? But how could they not know...oh I can't give it away because surely there is an alternate ending that I'd sort of believe. Carr can dazzle (like "The Crooked Hinge") but not here. And I like to SEE the cast.

[Sarah-Hope · Rating 3 out of 5]

I absolutely love the British Library Crime Classics series, which brings novel from the "era of great detective fiction" into the present day, where they can find new readers. In general, the plotting in these novels is supurb. They really do keep one guessing until the last moment.

The Lost Gallows is one of the most recent additions to the series. It's set shortly after World War 1, and that war casts a shadow across the story, as does the damp, unpredictable London fog. In it, Inspector Bencolin and his American sidekick, who serves as Bencolin's Watson, have come to London and are staying at a club where one of Bencolin's long time friends is a member. The novel offers gallows after gallows: a small model that turns up at the club; another, that a character has seen while wandering in the London fog, appears as a shadow cast across an alleyway; and there's a back story in which a potentially innocent man has been hanged for the murder of his best friend.

Carr deals out a bounty of clues and conundrums that appear impossible to resolve into a single case, but Bencolin is up to the task. All the gallows, plus a dead man driving a car, a London street that disappears, a series of unpleasant characters: Bencolin knows how these pieces will fall into place, while those around him struggle to make sense of events.

If you like classic crime novels, this is a must-read. And, once you've read it, you'll want to look for more of these classics that are being brought to light once again.

I received a free electronic copy of this book for review purposes from the publisher via EdelweissPlus; the opinions are my own.

[Adam Carson · Rating 3 out of 5]

To some extent I think 3 ⭐️ is a bit generous for this.

I often struggle with JDC books - I find it hard to stay focussed and at times I think his style of writing is a bit all over the place without a clear thread. This one is no different with Detective Bencolin and Jeff Marle visiting London to investigate a Limousine driven by a dead chauffeur, a kidnapped Egyptian and other assorted shenanigans.

On the plus side, first of all, this book is wonderfully atmospheric- I loved the description of the Brimstone club, the hidden rooms and all the eerie creeping about on the dark.

On the negative - the writing and characters. I absolutely hate Bencolin. There’s seems very little point in him knowing what’s going on but not explaining to anyone, to the point his friend almost gets killed because of it. The fact Carr makes his detective such a vile man speaks volumes.

Hard to read and not entirely worth the effort, but a good bit of atmosphere.

[Theunis Snyman · Rating 4 out of 5]

Carr’s second book written when he was only 24 years old. This book already has indications of the master story teller that he was to become. Signs of the macabre, in which Carr specialized, are in this story too. There is a car driven by a dead man, a street that doesn’t exist, objects that mysteriously appear in a room, a hidden room and the lost gallows. His descriptions gives the story a sombre atmosphere. But his descriptions are sometimes a bit too wordy. But this is the author at the beginning of his career. And he becomes better in his later books. In the middle two thirds of his career few authors could emulate him in his ingenuity and writing. The detective is Bencolin assisted by Jeff Marle. The story leads to a unexpected and startling climax.

This is a review of the “British Library of Crime Classics”. It includes an early story of Carr about the detective Bencolin.

[Robyn · Rating 2 out of 5]

Discounted | Nonsense | Obviously an early work, Carr skips reality in favor of frenetic word salad. Should have been clear that this wasn't going to stick with the real world early on, when a body that had been stabbed and had its throat cut, sitting upright, was both unbendable due to rigor mortis and freely bleeding heavily from the wound, four hours after death. Nobody's actions are justified. Why should Talbot care about a crank phone call enough to get groups of people to start searching for a street that doesn't exist, before the murder, before he knows of the disappearance, before he ever speaks to Sir John? Why should Marle even like Sharon, since she's presented as a fairly awful person? Why should Colette just hang around waiting for persecution when she could leave town and live off one of her other men? Etc.

[Bev · Rating 3 out of 5]

Another winner from John Dickson Carr. Carr was a true master of the detective novel. Locked rooms are his specialty, but he shines in other mysterious realms as well. This one features Bencolin, his French detective. These books are always full of a bit more atmosphere than his other two series. In this one the shadow of Jack Ketch (an early, sadistic British executioner--as well as a by-word for the devil himself) hangs over every page. "Jack Ketch" is stalking his victims and it's up to Bencolin to discover his identity and foil his plans. Just when I was sure (for the fourth or fifth time--I lost count) who Jack was, Carr pulled out another twist and proved me wrong. Absolute pleasure for the mystery fan! Three and a half stars out of five.

[Dolceluna ♡ · Rating 5 out of 5]

Un giallo che più giallo non si può. Una serie di scatole cinesi, un enigma ben congegnato, un piccolo grande rebus a parole, non privo di tensione e colpi di scena. John Dickson Carr ci regala un altro gioiello di giallo della camera chiusa. Ed effettivamente questo romanzo sulle camere chiuse gioca parecchio: quella misteriosa e tenebrosa di Nezzam El Moulk, gentiluomo egiziano scomparso nel nulla, quelle tetre del Brimstone Club, in cui l'investigatore Bencolin e gli altri personaggi si ritrovano ad indagare e in cui macabri modellini di forche vengono rinvenuti, fino a quelle segrete e seminascoste da botole, per le quali, nello stesso club, passerà l'assassino. Assassino che Bencolin smaschererà con un'arguzia sorprendente. E cosa c'è fuori da queste numerose camere chiuse? Il suono sinistro del Big Ben e le nebbie londinesi. Raffinato, affascinante, bellissimo. Pare evidente, nei due romanzi di Carr che ho letto finora, la sua capacità di creare atmosfere ipnotiche e paurose partendo da pochi semplici elementi. So che ha scritto decine di romanzi...e io li voglio tutti!!!

[Lisa Kucharski · Rating 3 out of 5]

A macabre and highly dramatic mystery which is discussed at the start and then comes to fruition right away, creating very sudden plunge into a graphic murder. The mystery takes place in London though it's primary location is the Brimstone Club. Here the characters are exaggerated with the exception of Marle who narrates the story. A man is being persecuted at the hotel, afraid of someone trying to harm him- and little by little his story which is entangled with another reveals more than just a simple persecution. And of course, everyone is hiding something; even Bencolin.

As usual reality and events are constantly turning on their heads and Bencolin sees all the pieces immediately and tries to work out a way to catch the criminal, prove guilt and win a bet. Is this fair play, not completely; does it matter, not too much. You do see a lot and are given a lot of clues enough to at least know the who but maybe not all of the why and hows.

[Martina Sartor · Rating 4 out of 5]

Uno dei primi gialli di Carr, molto d'atmosfera in una Londra nebbiosa e cupa.
La fantomatica identità di Jack Ketch l'ho intuita solo verso la fine, da un accenno sul personaggio di "Keane".

[Subjuntivo Subjuntivo · Rating 5 out of 5]

A masterpiece.

[James · Rating 3 out of 5]

Another early JDC featuring Bencolin. Good but not as good as his later stuff.

[JacquiWine · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 Stars

This colourful mystery, written when Carr was just twenty-four-years old, is an altogether more melodramatic affair than Bell’s Port of London. Almost Victorian Gothic in style, The Lost Gallows is a hugely enjoyable revenge story, primarily set in a notorious gentlemen’s club in central London.

When the Parisian detective, Henri Bencolin, meets up with his old friend, Sir John Landervorne, at London’s Brimstone Club, he is quickly drawn into a complex mystery involving another club resident, the Egyptian, Nezam El Moulk. In recent weeks, El Moulk has been spooked by the appearance of a series of macabre items at the club, the latest of which is a tiny model of a gallows, sent directly to the Egyptian by post. It seems the perpetrator is operating under the pseudonym ‘Jack Ketch’, a nickname or common shorthand for the public hangman, but his real identity is a closely guarded secret.

The main mystery that Bencolin must turn his mind to here is to identify Jack Ketch, who seems to be seeking revenge for a crime allegedly committed by El Moulk some ten years earlier. In short, the race is on to find Ketch before he can claim payback, presumably on the 10th anniversary of the original deed.

To read the rest of my review, please visit:

https://jacquiwine.wordpress.com/2021...

[Johnny · Rating 4 out of 5]

For my taste, John Dickinson Carr created another fascinating mystery in The Lost Gallows. Written in 1931, The Lost Gallows would be right at home next to Sax Rohmer’s racist (at least in today’s terms) “yellow peril” thrillers slightly earlier in the century, Ellery Queen’s 1932 The Egyptian Cross Mystery, Naguib Mahfouz’ Khufu’s Wisdom from 1939, and Agatha Christie’s first Hercule Poirot novel, Dumb Witness (aka Death on the Nile, 1937). Besides being the master of locked room mysteries, Carr also wrote several mysteries which appeared to involve the supernatural as a key element, only to have them debunked in the end.
The Lost Gallows is a revenge story, a multi-leveled mystery, and hinges (to some degree) on two artifacts: a miniature model of the gallows and an Egyptian papyrus. One of the early mysteries is how things keep showing up to threaten a character without evidence that anyone had entered his rooms. Another mystery, explaining the title, had to do with a hidden or non-existent street, Ruination Street, where a character had seen the shadow of the gallows and a silhouette ascending it but was unable to find it—even when London’s finest searched old maps and documents for a street with a changed name. A short-lived mystery was how a dead man drove a car through Piccadilly Circus. The main mystery focuses on a threat to the lives of an Egyptian and an elegant Frenchwoman.

And all of this is to be solved by the French detective of some note in the Sûreté, M. Bencolin, consulting with London homicide detectives. If that sounds a little like Agatha Christie’s Belgian supersleuth, M. Poirot, it is impossible that Christie followed him because Poirot appears in a 1920 short story. And, since a short-story protagonist published 12 years before was unlikely to have caused enough attention to inspire a novel protagonist, it is doubtful that there was cross-pollination between either author. Suffice it to say that M. Bencolin seems more of a French Sherlock Holmes than he seems like Inspector Clouseau of Pink Panther fame.

The book is narrated in first-person by an interested observer named Jeff Marle. All we know about him is that he became acquainted with M. Bencolin in Paris. There is an interesting description dealing with Paris about two-thirds of the way through the novel: “…if there is one lesson which a normally intelligent person learns in Paris, it is to beware of people who want to take you to quaint restaurants which nobody knows about. They are exactly the restaurants everybody knowns about.” (p. 155)

The Lost Gallows doesn’t tell us anything about Jeff Marle, though I discovered after reading this novel that it is supposed to be #3 in a series. Marle is definitely not a detective, though his would-be love interest attempts to pass him off as a detective and the London authorities seem to grant him every courtesy as a result of his association with the French detective. Yet, one senses that Marle is not even as helpful to Bencolin as Watson to Holmes—even if he seems to be the French detective’s amanuensis for this story.

The mystery begins in the Brimstone Club, a gentleman’s club with a rather racy and libertine history. From there, the detective traces back the motive for the crime(s) being threatened to a duel, an innocent man hanged, and a spice of blackmail. Secret passageways (originally for amorous trysts, one assumes) and a legendary room (ostensibly for orgies) both offer interesting clues or twists (depending on one’s perspective).

The perpetrator turned out to be one I briefly suspected before shifting to more red herrings than I usually succumb. The Lost Gallows is vintage Carr. I must agree with the blurb from The Times of London on the cover, “One of the best Carr mysteries.” It even ends with a hint of the supernatural.

[Vasilii Borovkov · Rating 2 out of 5]

Французский полицейский Анри Бенколен, американский писатель Джефф Марл и бывший английский полицейский Джон Ландерворн вместе отдыхают в лондонском клубе. Затем едут в театр. А после выхода из театра их чуть не сбивает лимузин, за рулем которого сидит мертвец. Погоня за лимузином приводит их обратно в тот клуб, в котором друзья отдыхали — машина принадлежит пропавшему члену клуба, а убитый был его шофером. Бенколен и Ландерворн заключают пари — француз обещает за 2 дня раскрыть это преступление.

1931 год. Карр только-только начал писать — «Тень убийства» был третьим опубликованным романом Карра. Еще Карр только недавно переехал в Англию. Отсюда Марл — американец-рассказчик и Бенколен — француз-следователь. Просто способ, чтобы маскировать то, что Карр не так много знал об Англии и ее правоохранительной системе. По этим же причинам серия о Бенколене не долго прожила. Карр освоился в Англии, придумал новых персонажей — Фелла и Мерривейла — а Бенколен, остался «пробой пера» и был уже не так нужен.

То, что Карр быстро избавился от Бенколена произошло не потому, что романы о нем были хороши. Все совсем наоборот — романы были совсем уж «ученическими», а потому сгинули в библиографии Карра. Только из-за выросшей с годами популярности Карра серия о Бенколене продолжала переиздаваться. Хоть того и не заслуживала.

Так, «Тень убийства». Слабый, слабый детектив. С кучей невероятных совпадений, замаскированными люками и потайными комнатами. И если соседство Бенколена и преступника, которого он 10 лет назад не смог посадить, худо-бедно объясняется, то соседство подруги Марла и ключевой свидетельницы — это уже огромная натяжка. Из тех вводных, что Карр предоставляет читателю, никак (вот вообще никак) нельзя догадаться, кто преступник. Карр нарушает правила написания классического детектива — Бенколен знает многое, что не сообщается читателю до финала.

В общем-то, история в книге неплоха. 10 лет назад преступник убил человека во Франции. Год назад об этом узнал родственник убитого и начал потихоньку мстить убийце. Методично, месяцами напролет, доводя убийцу до сумасшествия. Типичный Карр. Но подана эта история очень коряво. У Карра еще не хватало мастерства, чтобы достойно ее рассказать читателям. Поэтому по прочтению романа остается впечатление, что Карр слишком сосредоточился на «клубился лондонский туман» и «из тумана донеслось «бу-у-у».

Итого. Читать «Тень убийства» можно, только чтобы закрыть пробелы в библиографии Карра. Или чтобы узнать, откуда взялись некоторые поздние идеи в книгах Карра. Но читать этот роман для получения удовольствия от чтения — нет, отказать.

3/10

Оригинал отзыва - https://cahier.ru/carr-lost-gallows-1...

[Leew49 · Rating 3 out of 5]

In this highly atmospheric mystery novel the French detective Henri Bencolin and his friend and sometime Boswell the American Jeff Marle must solve the mystery of the faceless Jack Ketch, a pseudonymous and seemingly supernatural murderer bent on vengeance for a ten-year-old crime. There are several instances of what seem to be impossible events--a hallmark of Carr's--which are completely indecipherable to everyone but Bencolin. Since the Frenchman, in the tradition of gentlemen detectives dating back at least to Poe's Dupin, keeps his cards very close to his vest, his associates and the reader are kept in the dark until the final, tense night watch scene reveals the solution to the mystery. I did not find Bencolin to be a particularly appealing figure; his entitled arrogance is not balanced by the charming eccentricities usually found in other detectives of the same genre. Even Marle sometimes waxes pedantic on extraneous issues, perhaps because Carr was himself a young man at the time the novel was written. But the story moves quickly with many memorable and truly puzzling scenes, a cast of colorful characters, and a wonderfully atmospheric setting in fog-enshrouded London. One of the best attributes of THE LOST GALLOWS is its setting in the Brimstone, a West End eighteenth century four-storied architectural pile of dark corridors, high-ceilinged rooms, thick carpets, marble fireplaces, gargoyles and other gothic carvings, heavy draperies, and winding, dimly lit staircases. Dating back to the 18th Century and once the site of a mysterious double suicide, the Brimstone is undoubtedly a reference to the Hellfire Clubs of the same era. Once the exclusive province of wealthy, rakish aristocrats, its membership is now limited only by one's ability to pay its exorbitant fees: "the wealthy and drifting scum of the world." In an ingenious stroke, Marle, who has rooms on the fourth floor, discovers that it has not yet been wired for electricity, is lit only by dim gas globes, and in the London winter, is cold enough that he can see his own breath. It's a terrific setting for a murder mystery and is emblematic of the rich, foreboding atmosphere which lends the novel its signature look.

[Pamela Mclaren · Rating 4 out of 5]

Three men meet in the infamous Brimstone Club: French detective Henri Bencolin, his American friend Jeff Marle and Ex-Scotland Yard assistant commissioner Sir John Landervone. The Brimstone is
unusual in that it isn't a busy club and there is a bit of foreboding in its rooms.

Bencolin discovered a model of a tiny gallows sent to Nezam El Moulk, and Landervone tells the tale of a young man who after taking a lady home, sees the shadow of the gallows and a man walking to his death. While returning to the Brimstone after dinner and theatre, Bencolin and Marle are almost run down by a limousine with a corpse behind the wheel and its passenger missing. The limousine ends up at the club and the men report the death of the driver to the police.

So begins a dark and intriguing mystery in which a 10-year-old crime may lead to the deaths of three individuals. Bencolin brags that he can solve the mystery in 48 hours — and makes a bet with Landrvorne. But he plays it close to the vest as he, Scotland Yard and Marle investigate that long ago crime and the current situation.

The Lost Gallows, written in 1931 when author John Dickson Carr was but 25, is a fiendishly clever story and darn good reading. Bencolin is the first series detective that Carr wrote, The Lost Gallows is the third in a five-book series as well as four short stories. Unlike his later detective, Gideon Fell, Bencolin's tales are dark and mysterious, there's a layer over all with a feeling of the macabre.

It is written so cleverly with so many sly and well-laid out clues and red herrings that I didn't even attempt to try solving the mystery (and I would have been wrong). Additionally, it's layered with so many twists and turns that only by note taking could I keep track of all that was going on. If that scares you, don't let it — the mystery is so good you don't want to miss it.

This is the second of the Bencolin series that I have read and I think it is even more dark than the previous one I read. All in all, great beginning, strong characters, a terrific mystery and wonderful writing. I was hooked as soon as I got into the tale.

[Pirate · Rating 5 out of 5]

Bought this on spec from Daunt Books whilst browsing and well rewarded for doing so. Meet Inspector Bencolin and his side kick Jeff Marle...post Great War crime solving duo ...oh I hear you sigh a pale imitation of Holmes the game is afoot Watson...but hold your horses or your cabs...they are as good as them and that is not being heretical to the older duo. Bencolin is as complex as Holmes whilst Marle is as sharp as a tack without detracting of course from the genius that is his French partner..ben sacre bleu....Marle is not slavishly admiring of the Inspector describing him as 'a tall and lazy Mephisto'....I will forsake relating the plot as it is labrythine -- no folks Theseus Ariadne and the Minotaur are not in it -- just to say the fact a lot of the story takes place in a gentlemen's club in London called the Brimstone suffices whilst there is also a place called Ruination Street...beautifully written an example being the description of the French temptress Colette Laverne..."I knew her sort (observes Marle) ..."one sees immediately the Riviera, where they are to be found. They love the tables and sit there for hours, blindly absorbed, but they are small, crafty gamblers. Their wild affection is for Pekinese dogs (those things you always want to kick)...."and so on and so forth leading up to a thrilling climax...the story not kicking the Pekinese...enjoy you will and I shall venture forth to track down the other adventures of Bencolin and Marle...though I confess I had the master criminal pinned down relatively early but I think that again is the curse of having penned a few whodunnits myself....so be it!!

[Nick · Rating 4 out of 5]

I'm always wildly impressed with the clever plotting and the misdirection in the output of the heirs of Sherlock Holmes from the golden age of detective fiction, especially British, of the 30s. There are certain rules of fair play and honor that still govern society in these stories, at least for the British subject, and they make it possible for behavior to be predicted in ways that simply won't work today. And more often than not, there's swift justice at the end, because enough honorable men know what happened that they either take the law into their own hands, or prevail upon the murderer to take himself out. Alas, the rules of statistics are far more likely to govern the plots of detective fiction today, or no rules at all.

In this brilliant example, there's a vagrant Egyptian, a small person, a chauffeured car driven by a dead chauffeur, and a street in London that doesn't exist. What fun! The game's afoot, and we must chase after it. No less than two famous detectives, and at least two other policemen, are on the trail of the murderer, so there's little question that justice will be served, and quickly. I only have one query for the novel (and the novelist): why did he accept the wager? Once you've read the book, you'll know what I mean.