Customer Reviews

Death of an Old Master: A Murder Mystery Featuring Lord Francis Powerscourt

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This is the third installment in the Lord Powerscourt series, which I've been reading in order, and it's definitely my favourite so far. I don't know how accurately the art market of the 1890s is portrayed, but Dickinson describes it wittily and seemingly knowledgably. I found myself becoming just as interested in how the conniving gallery owner was able to jack up prices and foist his forgeries on unsuspecting and gullible American millionaires as I was in discovering the murderer of the art historian who was about to expose these schemes. The courtroom drama at the end of the book was also dramatic, with witty observations and asides that made it most entertaining. Finally, in addition to the fascinating historical touches and the intriguing sub-plots (in particular, the pathetic story of the young forgerer who loses the woman he loves and is forced to produce his masterful forgeries against his will), this is a good mystery story. There are plenty of suspects with means and motive, and my guess is that most readers will be wondering "whodunit" for about as long as I did (figured it out a few chapters ahead of the revelation).

Victoria still reigns, the Boors are making ugly war on the British Empire in southern Africa, and American millionaires are flocking to Europe to pick up culture--including the old masters. One enterprising art dealer specializes in serving the needs of the Americans--whether this means locating great art, or creating it on demand. It's all very civilized in a way, and even similar to the way that many British manors were stuffed with ersatz 'old masters' from centuries of trips to the continent. But the murder of an art critic throws the entire business into turmoil.

Investigator Lord Francis Powerscourt interveins when his wife reminds him that the victim is something of a cousin (Powerscourt believes that half of English society is a cousin of some sort to his wife). The case looks clearcut--the dead man had been having an affair with a married woman whose husband had recently learned of the affair and was not happy about it. But Powerscourt doesn't trust any case that looks too obvious and he finds other motives--motives involving money and great art.

Author David Dickinson writes convincingly of English 'society' near the end of the 19th century. British nobles are finding their ancestral homes to be expensive monstrosities that they still must maintain, manners remain critical, and a woman can be ruined by scandal--but both men and women still seek out adventure in their lives. Powerscourt is a well developed and sympathetic character--often lost in the case but never too busy to make time for his wife (and occasional co-investigator) and children. Dickinson doesn't look beneath the upper crust of English society, but even that upper crust is pretty rotten.

Dickinson throws out a number of red herings, sends Powerscourt through England and even to Corsica, and gives the reader enough interest in art and art forgery to make for a fascinating read.

This book is set in London in 1899. A leading art critic has been murdered. Now I hesitate to read books about the art world because either the writer talks down to the reader, or a non-art historian hasn't a clue what it's all about. This writer manages to explain the art world quickly, simply and effectively. I understood and I didn't feel patronized.

This is a good story; it moves right along with plenty of action. The characters are so well drawn that you don't even notice the writer doing it. The background is authentic and the various motivations very true to the time, the setting and the plot. The dialogue was crisp and the transitions barely noticeable.

This is John Buchan meeting Anne Perry, with the addition of a sense of humor. I really enjoyed it.

First Sentence: The old man walked slowly across the fields.

When art critic Christopher Montague is found garroted, enquiry agent Lord Francis Powerscourt, is asked to investigate. Powerscourt finds that the critic had been having an affair with a married woman. The husband, Mr. Buckley, is the obvious suspect and is arrested.

Powerscourt is not convinced Montague was working on a book to expose the gallery of de Courcy and Piper of selling fake old masters. If he's right, it will discredit the gallery and all the other appraisers who have claimed the work to be genuine. The gallery has a lot at stake selling expensive painting to wealthy American industrial millionaires. With plenty of motives and possible suspects, Powerscourt must find the truth before Buckley is convicted.

With each book, I become a bigger fan. Dickinson does everything right.

There are great characters, each of whom is fully developed. Powerscourt isn't stuffy, but a family man in love with his wife and children. He is well-placed in society, but also ex-military and highly-regarded by those in power. But all the characters are wonderful; Charles Augustus Pugh, the barrister defending Buckley; Orlando Blaine, the artist; Johnny Fitzgerald, Powerscourt friend; Lady Lucy, Powerscourt's wife, and her battalion of relatives, and all the others. They are all fully developed and alive. I was amused at the American millionaire industrialists being portrayed at uncultured rubes, which they may well have been.

The sense of time and place is wonderful. When the characters travel, you travel with them. When they are freezing in the snow, you reach for a blanket. The courtroom scenes were fascinating as was the look inside the world of art and galleries. The suspense was excellent all the way to the end.

I very much enjoy that each book can stand on it's own but there is a segue at the end that makes me want to read immediately for the next book but doesn't make me feel I'm being tricked into it.

This was a wonderful book in a series I shall definitely continue.

Pretty decent stuff, but lazy writing. For example: author uses the word "prefabricated" (a term first coined in 1937) to describe an observation by one of the characters about a cathedral....in 1900. Just lazy! Dickinson's next book (I thought I'd try one more because I enjoy historical fiction), Death of a Chancellor, exhibits some of the same lazy writing from Death of an Old Master. Somewhat formulaic and thrown together.