Private detective Clyde Beatty knifes his way through Victorian London fog to find the answer to the sepulchral murders at Brookwood Cemetery's glades of remembrance--in a feverish gaslight gothic that's as rich in Sherlock Holmes-like atmosphere as it is in ghoulish doings. Miss Angela Meredith, a delicious dish, applies to Beatty for help when her bank-manager daddy dies of what she believes is poisoning; an autopsy, however, shows no poison. . . till Beatty realizes that corpses have been switched around, probably by the Merediths' physician--oily Dr. Couchman. Beatty's subsequent investigation of Couchman's private home for the aged (a horror of bedlamites) leads to Couchman's suicide into the icy Thames. And then Beatty is led to Brookwood Cemetery--where an underground network is uncovered that relates to a vast amount of bullion missing from Meredith's banks. . . . Ghastly moments and shocking closeups of dead bodies, detailed Victoriana (hansoms, trains, derringers, etc.), and a genius-inventor sidekick--it all adds up to a hard-working concoction that's less for mystery fans than for connoisseurs of period trappings, literary nostalgia, and gothicky, slightly grisly adventure.