Poison Jasmine

Theocritus Lucius Westborough #9

by Clyde B. Clason

Theocritus Lucius Westborough, mild and meddlesome little professor of Roman history, is asked by world-famous perfumer to a dinner where a murder takes place to the accompaniment of seven rose candles, a scent of violets, a taste of almond and a candle that suddenly burned green. First published in 1940.

Genres: Mystery

190 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1940

About the author

Clyde B. Clason was an American writer. He worked in advertising as a copywriter and editor. His main series detective is Theocritus Lucius Westborough. Clason was a locked room mystery fan. He specialises in trying to baffle the reader with intricate and elaborate plots.

Reviews

[Bev · Rating 3 out of 5]

Theocritus Lucius Westborough, historian by trade and solver of impossible crimes by instinct, receives a telegram from world-famous perfumier Etienne LeDoux asking him to come to his home in Valle de Flores, California to investigate an attempted poisoning...of himself. Someone put a deadly additive in his pre-meal tonic, but fortunately it wasn't quite enough to kill the transplanted Frenchman. LeDoux doesn't want anyone to know Westborough's real purpose and asks him to arrive under the name of T. L. West. The historian's job is to discover which of LeDoux's family or employees want him out of the way. But when the would-be killer strikes again, it isn't LeDoux but his advertising agent, Paul Michael Charmaron, who is poisoned at table with all the suspects.

The obvious suspect--and the one LeDoux picks--is Derek Esterling. Esterling is a brilliant chemist who has developed a new perfume--which uses ingredients that can also be used as a poison. Esterling is engaged to LeDoux's lovely granddaughter (who will inherit the lucrative perfume business if grandpa dies) and he had quarreled with Charmaron the night before. But Westborough thinks the clues point just a little too conveniently to the chemist. And when another murder takes place the historian is able to unravel the tangled clues and follow the thread directly to a diabolical killer.

I read this one and felt throughout that I really ought to like it a lot more than I did. That's not to say that I didn't like it--I do. Just not as much as I thought I would. We've got a good, intellectual/academic type for our detective. I love those. The plot has a clever and effective impossible crime. There's a nice bit of misdirection and clueing sleight of hand. The story has a Golden Age country house feel to it--closed set of suspects all gathered together for murder and mayhem. All the pieces are there...and yet it didn't quite knock my socks off. I'm not sure if it's because it seemed to go a bit too long or if it was all about me and the fact that last week (when I read it) was an out of sorts kind of week. Regardless--Clason is generally a fine entertainer in the mystery realm and I suggest you give this one a try for yourself. ★★★ and a half.

First posted on my blog My Reader's Block. Please request permission before reposting. Thanks.

[Chris Browning · Rating 3 out of 5]

This probably deserves a four: the puzzle is great and the solution nice and neat, with two particularly clever clues which leads to the uncovering of the villain. But it has two substantial things going against it...

1. the detective suffers from Poirot-itis (as does the French perfumier and my particular bete noir, the southern gentleman Stuart Grayne), keeping on spouting literary allusions like there’s no tomorrow in an attempt to build his erudite credentials. It’s the ultimate lazy detective trick of the period, bunging on tics and eccentricities to cover up the lack of any actual character

2. the fucking southern gentleman Stuart Grayne, who women find irresistible but is so horribly annoying that I was actually angry that he never got murdered or found out to have done it. I didn’t so much take a disliking to him but wanted to have every other character shoot him like in Orient Express just for loving and a-talkin’ in his horrible affec-t’d dialogue style, ma darlin’. Unconscionably awful

[Susan · Rating 3 out of 5]

Perfume maker Etienne LeDoux doesn't tell anyone he was poisoned--except for Theocritus Lucius Westborough, who rushes from Chicago to the beautiful Valle de Flores in Southern California to help the old man. There were only eight people in the room when Etienne was poisoned, and he wants Westborough to watch carefully as he entertains the same people again. When someone dies, Westborough is hard-pressed to find a clue.

[Kate · Rating 4 out of 5]

For my full review click on the link below:
https://crossexaminingcrime.wordpress...