Hercule Poirot wasn't the only mustachioed, self-admiring fictional detective toddling around London in the mid-1900s: there was also Gideon Fell, the formidable creation of John Dickson Carr (1906-1977), an American who spent much of his adult life abroad, mastering the art of writing locked-room mysteries. Originally published in 1939, The Problem of the Wire Cage is a paragon of the form.
Carr sets the stage with a love triangle: Hugh Rowland pines for Brenda White, who is marrying Frank Dorrance for the financial perks; according to their benefactor's will, if either Brenda or Frank dies--even before they wed--the survivor inherits everything. The evening after the three play mixed-doubles tennis (Brenda's intended matron of honor is their fourth), Brenda finds Frank strangled in the middle of the court. Hugh arrives and sees that the only footprints leading to the corpse besides Frank's own are Brenda's, which he fears may incriminate her. And, yes, it occurs to Hugh that Brenda killed Frank.
Carr (The Corpse in the Waxworks; Till Death Do Us Part) wrote The Problem of the Wire Cage as if looking through a magnifying glass at his story, finely etching every detail so that readers can feel they have a shot at identifying Frank's murderer. Some may be irked by Carr's caginess with one pivotal clue, but this doesn't interfere with the mystery's--any mystery's--payoff: the chance for readers to feel like, in Hugh's words, "feather-witted goops" once a great detective has cracked the case. --Nell Beram, author and freelance writer

