THE CANNIBAL WHO OVERATE

The first of resident manager Pierre Chambrun’s 22 adventures in New York’s luxurious Hotel Beaumont, originally published in 1962, gives him exactly a week to find a killer before he (or she) strikes.

He may be famous and successful and wealthy and a Pulitzer and Nobel Prize laureate, but everybody hates Aubrey Moon, the writer, socialite, and Great Man who plans to spend $30,000 to entertain 250 guests at the 75th birthday party he’s throwing himself next weekend. The question is: Who hates him enough to have offered Pamela Prym, the call girl in Room 609, $10,000 if she’d kill him before the party—and to have threatened her with instant death if she took the money but didn’t carry out the mission? It’s too late to ask Pamela, because she’s hanged herself in her room. Incredibly, though, her correspondent makes the same offer to John Wills, who already has ample reason to kill the man who caused his own father’s suicide. John, who’s booked a room in the hotel and wangled an introduction to Chambrun on the grounds that he’s learning the hotel business—a cover story that doesn’t fool the wily manager—doesn’t want a murder on his conscience but isn’t in a position to return the payoff and doesn’t want to be killed either. More than whodunit, the question of what-to-do-about-it drives this ebullient franchise debut by pseudonymous mystery veteran Judson Philips (1903–89). Editor Leslie S. Klinger supplies conscientious footnotes that describe how to make dry martinis, identify Judy Garland and Toto, explain what a call girl is, and note that the phrase “a pansy inflection” is “an unfortunate anti-homosexual slur.”

A high-concept romp that’s barely dated, despite that slur and all those footnotes.