The feathered serpent by Edgar Wallace

Not too bad but not very exciting either. The mystery was not very mysterious at all, since Edgar had already connected for us the name of a man that apparently had no other relations to the dead Joe Farmer. The characters of course didn't know about this connection, but I read it; the love story of the book was not very romantic this time. Protagonist is Peter Dewin, journalist, who falls for Daphne Olroyd, at first secretary of rich Leicester Crew than of richer Gregory Beale. Just outside Crew's house his sister Ella Creed's husband Joe Farmer is killed. They all receive strange notes saying 'remember the feathered serpent'. The fourth of them, Pauline Staines, the nicest of them all, leaves the city in time to avoid trouble. Crew is killed at Gregory's house. With Daphne's help, Peter puts together a big piece of the story, and the rest he hears from Ella when he frees her from the 'prison' she had been locked in after being abducted. Some time ago Beale was a philanthropist who used the name William Lane to do charity incognito. He fell in love with Ella. To take advantage of his money and his love, Crewe told Ella to give him hope, and Lane eventually told her the secret code of his deposit. Crewe and Farmer had Lane arrested for the counterfeit money business they were in themselves, and took all his good money in the deposit. In prison, Lane learned of how much he had been deceived: Ella had already been married, she had simply used him. Once free, he planned his revenge. The book goes on slowly, being an old one, since every time Peter wants to check something he takes a cab and goes to talk face to face. Nobody is very fond of the telephone, they haven't warmed to it yet, they use it only to say: come here, I need to talk to you. This causes major delays, as often the person called is not at home. With modern cell phones this book would have been long only a third of what it actually was :lol: At the end Beale escapes justice, leaving the country.
Not bad but kind of boring, is what it was.