Paul: The Mysterious Mickey Finn

When a famous art-loving millionaire disappeared from a Bohemian party in the artist quarters of Montparnasse, a number of colorful Parisians began to devote themselves to suspicious actions of one kind or another. Homer Evans, irresponsible playboy artist and Bohemian, combines his talents for quick thinking and kiss-stealing in a wild chase for the murderers through the streets and bordellos of Paris. Following hot behind is Miriam Leonard, a belle from Montana whose shapely hand is quite as effective with the revolver as with a loving caress! And then there is Hjalmar Jansen, strapping Norwegian artist friend of Homer’s, ever ready to gird his loins for any kind of lusty brawl so long as there are women and wine in plenty. Bloodletting and love-making are liberally combined with infectious humor in an altogether irresponsible manner, and readers of The Mysterious Mickey Finn will find in these pages a witty story sprinkled in the classical manner with the proper number of bodies, some beautifully alive and kicking. (The first in the Homer Evans screwball mystery series.)

Additional

First published in 1939.

Review

“The Mysterious Mickey Finn gives rise to the suspicion that Mr. Paul is out to do to the modern detective novel just about what Cervantes did to the romance of chivalry. . . . It has the delirious irresponsibility of a Wodehouse plot. . . . It’s one of the funniest books we’ve read in a long time. It contains a great deal of shrewd satire.”—Charles Poore, New York Times

Review

“. . . I astonished and delighted myself by reading it. . . . The Mysterious Mickey Finn is like no mystery story I know. It may not please the orthodox mystery fans; it is, in its way a satire on orthodox mysteries. . . . I have seldom read a book which gave me so intensely the impression that the author had a grand good time writing it. The hilarity is infectious.”—Lewis Gannett, New York Herald Tribune

Review

“Read it for the witty, sophisticated, tongue-in-the-cheek fluency of Mr. Paul, for the wicked innuendos, for the fiction-coated satirical barbs at men, morals and artists. It’s grand.”—Hartford Times