girlfriend’s brother. The man claims to have evidence showing Leeds murdered his former Klondike partner years earlier and then stole all the gold. Naturally, the blackmailer winds up dead, and Leeds was seemingly sharing a dinner in the victim’s apartment when he died.

Rolling Bones is a classic example of the so-called “fair play” mystery, in which the author reveals all the clues Mason and the reader need to solve the murder. This task is more difficult for a writer like Gardner, whose minimalist writing style avoids unnecessary details. But he does so brilliantly here. When I first read the passages where Gardner revealed the critical clue, I felt something was wrong with the author’s description. However, I couldn’t put my finger on it until Mason revealed it to the court and the killer on the witness stand in one of his famous “gotcha” moments. While Gardner’s style is minimalist, his plotting isn’t. As the Cast of Characters page indicates, Mason and the readers have a lot of characters to keep track of, several of whom have multiple identities (in the physical, not the psychological sense). Readers may sometimes have difficulty separating what Mason wants the police to believe and what he actually believes at a particular time. However, readers who can bear some momentary confusion will get a reward at the end when Mason ensnares the killer.

Erle Stanley Gardner was an accomplished trial attorney when he started the Perry Mason series and a champion for social justice at a time when the constitutional rights we take for granted today were almost non-existent. Gardner uses Mason several times as a mouthpiece for the author’s views about the justice system. For example, in the first chapter of Rolling Bones, Mason talks about the type of clients he prefers: “I don’t like rich people. I like poor people… Rich people worry too much, and their problems are too damn petty. They stew up a high blood pressure over a one-point drop in the interest rate. Poor people get right down to brass tacks: love, hunger, murder, forgery, embezzlement—things a man can sink his teeth into, things he can sympathize with.” Considering Leeds’s wealth, that statement proves somewhat ironic in this case.

Gardner also used the Mason books (and, later, the TV series) to educate readers about the justice system. Most Americans in 1939 were unaware of how trials were conducted, and Gardner usually gave pointers in his early books. In Rolling Bones, he discusses how the prosecution must establish a case against the defendant in a preliminary hearing. (Non-spoiler: they don’t do so here.) In the Leeds case, the victim’s actual identity was an issue, and the district attorney and Mason discussed with the judge what the prosecution must do to establish it. This lengthy discussion would be unnecessary at an actual trial with experienced counsel. But these details could be fascinating for lay readers, even more so in 1939 than today.

Rolling Bones also has an interesting subplot in the first few chapters that’s relevant today. Leeds’s relatives commit him to a mental institute by claiming the 70-year-old man has dementia. One relative drives the unknowing Leeds to the facility, where two large nurses grab him and take him inside. When Mason learns about it, he gets a habeas corpus hearing where he shows how flimsy the “documentation” of Leeds’s dementia actually is. While much has changed in the 85 years since the book was written, the issue of involuntary guardianships and conservatorships for possibly mentally unfit people remains a hot topic today.

Rolling Bones is also a time capsule allowing modern-day readers a look into the social mores of the pre-World War II era. From a legal standpoint, some tactics both the district attorney and Mason use would get sharp ethical condemnation today (and would earn the prosecution a reversal if done in an actual trial). At the book’s conclusion, Mason and the judge discuss to what extent the ends justify the means of achieving justice. Some of Mason’s other actions are eye-opening for different reasons. He and Paul Drake smoke constantly, and Mason even keeps a humidor on his desk with four different popular brands of cigarettes for visitors. The book also contains some highly outdated references and descriptions of various female characters that some readers may find offensive.

After I read The Case of the Rolling Bones, I watched its dramatization as an episode of the Perry Mason TV series. The TV show was good, but the book is better. The mystery is more complex and will please most genre fans, even if they don’t figure out the killer. And Earl Stanley Gardner’s style makes for a fast-paced, enjoyable read. Because of the plot complexity, newcomers to the Mason series may want to try another book first. However, those who enjoy the series will want to roll along with The Case of the Rolling Bones.