Worst. Toupee. Ever.
Who killed Roslyn? That’s the initial question in The Unsuspected (1947), a story that explores how the lust for prestige, wealth, and power drives people to commit crimes to slake those lusts.
Victor Grandison is a man of high taste, wealth, and prestige, an exemplar of everyone’s goal, at least in high society. A middle-aged lifelong bachelor, he’s surrounded by young, beautiful women, and the source of his wealth is as a radio-based storyteller, telling tales of murder to his huge audience, to which his advertisers gladly pay richly for access.
And then he comes home one night to discover his secretary, Roslyn, swinging from the chandelier.
And, as shocking as this is, this is the second death to afflict this household recently: his ward, Matilda, a young niece, is reported dead in the sinking of a ship en route to Portugal. In order to expunge the gloom certain to infect the house, Althea, Victor’s niece, throws a party, and it includes many of the top tier of society, including Police Detective Richard Donovan, who is also in charge of the investigation into the suicide.
And then who shows up at the party? Why, it’s Steve Howard, Matilda’s (the one who went down with the ship – the characters do get confusing) fiancee, an event to which everyone in the household responds, WHO?
Yeah, no one’s heard of him. Over the next day or so, the inevitable cries of gold-digger! are turned aside by Donovan’s report that Howard is, indeed, as rich as he claims, perhaps even as rich as the late heiress Matilda herself.
Aaaaaaand then … Matilda shows up.
And doesn’t remember Howard.
And now the fun really begins, as Donovan’s investigation reveals the suicide was really a murder. The masks are coming off, the plans are unraveling, and the bodies begin piling up, which, by default, eliminates each victim from the list of suspects.
A hard way to prove one’s innocence.
Will Howard and Matilda make it to the end of the story? How about the oh so wealthy Victor? Who hired the muscle? While some mysteries are cleared up early, others persist to the end – in a most enjoyable dénouement.
There are irritating elements to this story. Matilda is far too much of a wimp, barely able to stand on her own at one point – although, granted, she was poisoned at the time. But for a woman who survives a ship sinking, we expected more gumption from her. This deficiency is enhanced by the several other strong female characters: Snarky Althea, smoothly efficient radio producer Jane, even the constrained role of victim Roslyn portrayed her as vivacious in her few moments of life. My Arts Editor was quite unhappy with Matilda.
But this is a story that drew us in, and while it may not draw a recommended rating, it is certainly an underestimated gem of a murder mystery. If you’re a connoisseur of the genre, or a fan of Claude Rains, you will not regret seeing this.
