When asked about the case, Arthur Conan Doyle himself declared that it would be an “ideal Sherlock mystery” but that he would “confine his attention to the Ward family alone, leaving the actual murder to unravel itself after the blackmail mystery was solved.” Polchin then devotes an entire chapter to Conan Doyle’s descent into spiritualism and séances (he claimed to have contacted Peters from beyond the veil) and a rift with Harry Houdini. Engaging, sure, but the world-building comes at the cost of narrative momentum.
This is frustrating because, with its layers of taboos and public spectacle, the case feels, a century later, as relevant as ever. And yet, for all its lurid trappings, the sensationalistic story ends up feeling a bit dry — and we never find out exactly what this important family was hiding.
Polchin diplomatically declines to take much of a stand about what he thinks really happened. “We are left to speculate, read between the lines, pull together known facts and come up with our own theories,” he writes.
The author posits that the case could have helped inspire “The Great Gatsby.” Interesting to ponder, but to a reader, somewhat unsatisfying. Polchin’s research is certainly extensive, and he’s a likable and knowledgeable guide to the era. Ultimately, though, I craved stronger opinions and a few conclusions.
Polchin gives the final word to F. Scott Fitzgerald, quoting “Gatsby”: “They smashed up things and creatures and then retreated back into their money or their vast carelessness, or whatever it was that kept them together, and let other people clean up the mess they had made.” Sure, but what does the author think?
SHADOW MEN: The Tangled Story of Murder, Media, and Privilege That Scandalized Jazz Age America | By James Polchin | Counterpoint | 355 pp. | $29
