Perry Mason 118: The Meh Sixties

Note: Some writers, faced with age and success, reinvent themselves. Gardner took the other professional path - the Louis Armstrong path - giving audiences the tune exactly as they wanted it, right to the final chorus. In the 1960s he was juggling television script oversight, the Cool & Lam sideline, endless public appearances, and the demands of a “fiction factory” that never slept. Under that kind of pressure, the novels inevitably show a little wobble here, an overly familiar device there - a veteran performer leaning on a well-rehearsed routine. The novels reviewed in this and the next two entries were released in the Sixties - when Gardner’s groove was still steady, but you could hear some of the wear, skips, and crackles in the vinyl.

Bottom‑Shelf Perry Mason: The Meh 1960s

The Case of the Careless Cupid (1968)
A wealthy widow faces accusations of poisoning her first husband while hostile relatives scheme to block her forthcoming marriage. The early “romance‑agency” angle is brisk and promising, and Gardner still shows his knack for creating tangled motives with efficient strokes. But the cast feels generic - types rather than people - and the plot’s rhythm remains predictable even by Mason standards. The milieu is curiously pale: no vivid subculture, no textured backdrop, just a grey, anonymous narrative blank. Though mechanically written, the novel offers solid female characters, real‑world touches like pilot Pinky Brier, brisk movement, and competent courtroom maneuvering. Pleasant enough, but unmistakably Sixties Gardner on an off day.

The Case of the Fabulous Fake (1969)
Diana Douglas steps in after her brother Edgar, suspected of skimming ten thousand dollars, is blackmailed and left comatose after a car crash. When the blackmailer turns up murdered with Edgar’s gun, Diana becomes the prime suspect. Hardcore fans may view this as late‑career Gardner doing an impression of his 1940s self - an earnest attempt that lands somewhere in an uncanny valley of shadows. The art‑fraud setup has attraction, but Gardner approaches it with the energy of a man checking boxes on a form. The plot trots along briskly, though the coincidence‑heavy twists feel tied with gloves on rather than deftly assembled. Characters come in Who But W.B. Mason cardboard and the atmosphere is barely sketched in. To end on a note of nice: it’s shorter than usual and readable.

The Case of the Horrified Heirs (1964)
The novel opens with a jolt - Mason averting a frame‑up and briefly denting The Combine’s armor - but soon expands into forged wills, a decaying wealthy family, poison appearing like aspirin, and poor Virginia Baxter enduring one calamity after another. Momentum eventually fades into a tidy, flat confession ending, though the ride includes flashes of the taut, gritty Gardner of old. The inheritance intrigue encourages us novelty-seekers, but the plot wanders, the heirs blur together like spirit‑duplicator copies, and Mason solves half the case by near‑clairvoyance. The wrap‑up comes with Gardner’s customary thump. Moms and The Bride urge me to tell you at least it’s readable and moderately lively.

The Case of the Spurious Spinster (1961)
This is Sixties Gardner keeping plates spinning: not a triumph, not a wreck, just a serviceable cruise through familiar territory. It begins with a working girl in escalating trouble and an intriguing titular spinster, but soon the plot wanders into the usual thicket of dubious wills, sudden corpses, and suspects seemingly beamed over from earlier, better books. The long setup delays the murder; the rushed trial shortchanges Burger; and the finale is delivered with Gardner’s reliable wham-bang. Though it reads quickly, it’s for completists only.

The Case of the Daring Divorcee (1964)
The opening hook is lively in this 72nd Mason novel: Adelle Hastings’ stolen purse -containing $3,000 and a fired .38 - ties her to her estranged husband’s murder. But soon we hear grinding gears: a harried young woman in peril, marital scheming, and Mason trying to keep the whole mess from collapsing like an iffy soufflé. The plot meanders and the supporting cast might as well be marionettes. I’ll grant that it’s swift and sturdier than several of its 1960s neighbors. Highlights include Mason’s amusing lineup trick on Tragg and Gardner’s sharp jabs at prosecutorial overcharging - an issue that dogs us still today.

The Case of the Troubled Trustee (1965)
Investment counselor Kerry Dutton, trying to protect ladylove Desiree Ellis, mishandles client funds and sparks a proxy fight, scandal, and murder. The novel shows unmistakable late‑career fatigue: the setup groans, the plot moseys like a college student with their face in a phone, and the suspects seem re-animated from Gardner’s recycling bin. Mason performs his heroic heavy lifting, though his final reveal is a shade eccentric even for late‑period Gardner. On the positive side, it’s readable in that familiar way: the pages turn, the story never offends, and the whole enterprise manages – somehow - not to blow away utterly due to its own thinness (which might prove hardcore readers like us can read anything).

The Case of the Amorous Aunt (1963)
The setup has spark: Linda Calhoun fears slick Montrose Dewitt is exploiting her wealthy Aunt Lorraine and seeks Mason’s help. The chase ends with Dewitt murdered in a desert motel and Lorraine entangled in her own lies. But the plot plods, the suspects could be swapped out without anyone noticing, and the mystery hides its best ideas beneath clutter. Only in the final stretch does Gardner revive some courtroom sharpness, though the story offers scant clues and an abrupt culprit. I can’t deny it moves, it entertains a little.