"The Black Seraphim" is set in a Church of England cathedral-close milieu. A clergyman involved in the controversy over the possible sale of cathedral land to developers is murdered. Exceptionally well written, and in the literate British cozy tradition, this book is filled with interesting and eccentric characters, both clerical and lay, and is lightened with humor. I think readers who enjoy Michael Innes and Edmund Crispin will like this one. I wish I'd discovered Mr. Gilbert's novels when they were available new. Now I'm going to have to search used-book stores for the rest of them. Let's hope the publisher reissues them.

Death Has Deep Roots (1951) is a classic of the courtroom drama-a tense and gripping thriller with excellent characterisation and an ingenious plot.

Victoria Lamartine is on trial for the murder of her supposed lover, Major Eric Thoseby, whom she is accused of having stabbed one night in March. It seems to the police and the prosecution a 'sealed box' mystery, for there are only five suspects: three hotel staff-members, and two guests, so that one of them must have done it-and Mlle. Lamartine the likeliest suspect. However, as Macrea, counsel for the defence, proves, "the whole thing [is] like a jigsaw puzzle which has been half done by an inexpert child. Any bit that seems to fit has been left in. Any bit that doesn't fit has been disregarded." All of the suspects have connections to either the French Underworld or Underground, so that, although this is a murder committed in England, it is in fact "the murder of a man who had done most of his war service in France, by a French girl, whom he was alleged to have met in France, in a hotel kept by a Frenchman with an Italian waiter who had spent all of his war service in France."

It is in France that the deep roots lie-the deep roots which must be uncovered to expose the dirty truth. It is amongst "the hate and the fear, the hysterics and the exaggeration and the heroism" of occupied France-"an unknown and rather frightening landscape ... where it might be necessary-where it might be most necessary and desirable-to be able to kill yourself quickly" that the pasts of Major Thoseby, of Victoria Lamartine, and of M. Sainte the hotel manager lie. It is in France that "forces [are] at work, forces which ... had already reached out and touched [Nap] at the extremities of their huge, opposed organisations"-gold smugglers and the Sûreté. And it is in post-war France-a country which "is not a very happy one at this moment", as Gilbert vividly depicts-that Nap Rumbold, the lawyer for the defence who appeared in other Gilbert novels, "fight[ing] a long, dirty, blackguarding campaign in which we shall use every subterfuge that the Law allows, and perhaps even a few that it doesn't", searches for the truth, his efforts alternating with scenes of the courtroom drama. These thriller elements are well used, and do not stick out like a chewed-off ear. Although Nap complains that "[American magazines] have one habit that I find irritating. They start a story, get you really interested in it, and then-what happens? You turn the page and find you are in the middle of quite a different one... That's exactly what's happening here, don't you see? I started out reading a murder mystery. It seems to have turned into a gold smuggling melodrama. What's the connection between the death of Major Thoseby last March in the Family Hotel and a large-scale gold smuggling racket?", it soon becomes clear that all the elements tie neatly together, forming a cohesive and extremely satisfactory whole, in this, one of the classic post-war detective stories.

The Killing of Katie Steelstock is one of Gilbert's best mystery novels. It is expertly plotted as always, with his usual collection of interesting, understandable, and completely formed characters, with a very surprising denoument. No one compares with him in writing a delightfully detailed mystery, with perfect police procedure, a dry wit and in The KIlling of Katie Steelstock an ending that even the most experienced mystery reader will find truly ingenious. Gilbert never tricks us, but gently pulls us in the wrong direction. As are his police characters sometimes. Thus we never feel cheated that he left out vital information (he doesn't), but admiration for a master of his craft. This book is a particulaly outstanding example of his work. Enjoy.

Everything Michael Gilbert has written is either on my "looking for" list or my "already read" list. Only a few other authors, including Andrew Garve and Edmund Crispin, rate that distinction. How can I describe a Michael Gilbert book? There is, above all, a sense of relaxation caused by the feeling in me that here, after many mediocre books by other authors, one is in the hands of a master. Perhaps it is akin to hearing the opening notes of a new concerto and realizing that what will follow will be special. Or the feeling that the superb appetizer from a great chef will be followed by an equally excellent entree and dessert. Michael Gilbert's books impress me the same way.
In this book, set in modern-day Florence, Gilbert spins a tale of Etruscan treasures, unscrupulous art collectors, some VERY villanous bad guys, several colorful expatriate Brits, and a soupcon of romance. Along the way, we learn about Etruscan values, Florentine and Italian politics, Mafia methods, and even English crossword puzzles. It's all done with a delightful flair that makes me think Gilbert really enjoys writing.

Mr. Calder and Mr. Behrens (and Mr. Calder's dog Rasselas) made their debut in "Game without Rules." These stories show why, in late middle age, this team is still working for MI-6 [Not that MI-6 exists, of course]. Older than James Bond, they still display all of the ruthlessness associated with British Intelligence. The second story in the book for instance shows how Rasselas became part of the team. And is there anything more chilling than Mr. Calder counting backwards in "One to Ten?"

The first story is different from all the others and gives the reader more background on Mr. Behrens. The last story, written in the late 1960s, is taking place in the mid-1980s. The rest are contemporary with their writing. Calder, Behrens, and their chief, Mr. Fortescue, are all quite conservative. But none of them is a stick in the mud nor are they reactionary. Morally, they follow their own lights and do not always obey the strictures placed on them by Queen and country.

This book is well worth the search to find it.

Master mystery writer Gilbert takes the classic English weekend country house murder and resituates it in an Allied POW camp in Italy just before the Allied invasion of Italy (which is ably described by Alan Moorehead in Eclipse). Gilbert spent time in a prison camp, and thus writes with authority about the setting. The book is similar to The Great Escape in that the prisoners are mainly English officers engaged in tunneling out of the camp--although here the camp is run by Italians. The camp's one Greek POW is found dead in one of the tunnels and one of the officers is appointed detective to figure who killed him, how, and why, and what it means. Thusly, Gilbert presents a traditional whodunit, with the impending German assumption of control of the camp as a looming threat. Like your average Agatha Christie, it's entertaining and relatively clever.