The dream detective

The Story

The investigation begins at the Menzies Museum, where a night watchman is found dead under circumstances that defy conventional police logic. Martin Coram, the museum’s curator, calls upon an unlikely associate: Moris Klaw, an elderly, white-haired man of mysterious background and eccentric temperament. Klaw arrives with his daughter, Isis, who carries a red cushion—an instrument Klaw uses to facilitate his unique investigative method. He believes he can "reconstruct" crimes by sleeping in the precise spot where they occurred, absorbing the "etheric" vibrations left behind by the perpetrator or the victim. While the police, represented by the skeptical Detective-Inspector Grimsby, dismiss Klaw as an insane theorist, Klaw quickly identifies a "white woman" as the culprit in the museum tragedy.

The narrative unfolds as a series of ten discrete cases, each centered on a bizarre or supernatural-seeming occurrence. In the "Case of the Potsherd of Anubis," an antique dealer named Halesowen is haunted by the sensation of a disembodied white arm manifesting in his apartment. Klaw’s intervention reveals that these phenomena are not ghosts, but rather the result of human machinations driven by greed or obsession. The "Case of the Crusader’s Ax" takes the investigators into the countryside, where a dispute over an estate results in a death that appears to be the work of a vengeful weapon acting on its own. Klaw, however, cuts through the gothic atmosphere to identify a very human struggle behind the tragedy.

As the series progresses, the crimes grow increasingly elaborate, involving stolen statues in the "Case of the Ivory Statue" and the high-stakes disappearance of a world-famous diamond, the "Blue Rajah," from a secure inner office. Klaw consistently utilizes his unorthodox approach, often taking naps at the scene of the crime or demanding total silence to conduct his psychic photography. His methods remain a source of friction with the police; Grimsby is constantly caught between frustration at Klaw’s condescension and grudging awe at the results he achieves. Klaw does not just catch criminals; he exposes the complex, often hidden motivations behind acts that society initially labels as supernatural or inexplicable.

In the later episodes, the stakes move from simple theft to psychological terror, such as the "Case of the Haunting of Grange," where ghostly laughter and phantom footsteps plague a newly acquired estate. Klaw navigates the tension between the occult claims of the residents and the cold reality of the evidence. He treats these mysteries as "thought-sounds" or "etheric storms," always maintaining that human intention is the true engine of every event. In the final, climactic "Case of the Veil of Isis," Klaw confronts a situation where a powerful, obsessive interest in ancient rites has nearly driven a man to the brink of insanity and murder. He ultimately reveals that even the most terrifying "idolatry" is a product of human suggestion and psychological manipulation. By the end, the cases are solved, the supernatural veneer is stripped away, and the logic of the human mind—flawed and dangerous—is laid bare.

The People

• Moris Klaw: An eccentric, white-haired detective who operates on the fringes of traditional criminology. He is guided by the belief that human emotion and intent leave permanent imprints on physical spaces. He is arrogant, unconventional, and frequently uses his daughter as a tool for his experiments.
• Isis Klaw: Klaw’s devoted daughter and assistant. She is described as possessing great beauty and an unwavering commitment to her father’s methods. She carries the red cushion required for his "odic" sleep experiments and serves as the calm, stabilizing force in his often chaotic investigation sessions.
• Detective-Inspector Grimsby: The representative of Scotland Yard who serves as a foil to Klaw. He is competent but bound by traditional, logical police work. He remains perpetually annoyed by Klaw’s theatricality and "mad theories," yet he consistently relies on Klaw to resolve the cases that baffle his own department.
• Martin Coram: The curator of the Menzies Museum, whose friendship with the narrator introduces Klaw to the reader. He is a man of nervous disposition, deeply concerned with the security of his collections and the safety of his staff, and he acts as a bridge between the respectable world of academics and Klaw’s fringe science.

In Its Own Voice

When the police are baffled by a death at the museum, Klaw offers a startling explanation for the mystery:

“Mr. Coram,” Moris Klaw was saying, in his odd, rumbling tones, “my psychic photograph is of a woman! A woman dressed all in white!”

Despite his strange methods, Klaw is remarkably confident in his ability to solve crimes, even when dealing with the most skeptical of officials:

“I am not resentful,” continued Klaw, “and I will capture for you the mummy man.”

Klaw explains his belief that even the most terrifying hauntings are merely the result of human psychology and the power of suggestion:

“Hypnotism has similarities with the ancient science of thought--yes! Suggestion is the secret of all so-called occult phenomena!”

What It's Really About

The book is an exploration of the thin line between the occult and the psychological. At its heart, it is a rebuttal to the superstitious reading of the world. While the premise—a detective who solves crimes by sleeping on a special cushion—suggests a leap into the supernatural, the book’s ultimate argument is that "ghosts" and "curses" are consistently revealed to be human constructs. Klaw acts as a secular exorcist, using his "psychic" claims not to prove the existence of spirits, but to demonstrate that human obsession, greed, and trauma are powerful enough to mimic the supernatural. The stories suggest that when we encounter something "impossible," we are actually witnessing the extreme end of human desire or madness.

A central theme is the tension between institutional authority and individual, intuitive insight. The police, representational of the logical, bureaucratic state, are shown to be limited by their insistence on physical evidence and standard procedure. Klaw, by contrast, represents the radical individualist. He thrives in the messiness of the human psyche, arguing that the true "evidence" of a crime is not the blood on the floor, but the intensity of the emotion that preceded the act. He posits that the world is saturated with the residue of our thoughts, and that a sufficiently attuned observer can read these remnants like a book.

Furthermore, the book deals with the burden of knowledge. Klaw is rarely depicted as a happy man; he is weary, gaunt, and often dismissive of those he deems his intellectual inferiors. There is an undercurrent of isolation to his character—he lives by rules that no one else understands, and his relationship with his daughter is more akin to that of an alchemist and an acolyte than a father and child. The cases challenge the reader to consider whether a world stripped of its mysteries is safer, or merely lonelier. By the conclusion, the book leaves the reader with a question: is Klaw a visionary who has unlocked a new way to understand human cruelty, or is he simply a brilliant man who has invented a persona to make sense of a world that is inherently chaotic?

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy early 20th-century detective fiction will find a unique pleasure in this collection. The book is written in a lush, slightly archaic style that evokes the gaslight-and-fog atmosphere of London, even when the stories venture into the English countryside. The appeal lies in the contrast between the grotesque, almost gothic setups—beheaded mummies, whispering poplars, cursed statues—and the brisk, logical deconstruction Klaw performs to solve them. It is a rewarding read for those who like "locked-room" style mysteries where the puzzle is paramount.

However, a modern reader should be prepared for the stylistic choices of the era. The dialogue is often heightened and theatrical, and Klaw’s personality is intentionally brusque and condescending, which may feel jarring. The book reflects the period's fascination with "psychical research" and Eastern exoticism, which are used here as atmospheric flavoring rather than rigorous science. Some readers may find the reliance on "odic" or "etheric" forces to be a bit thin as a plot device; the solutions often rely on Klaw having an epiphany while asleep rather than the reader being able to solve the mystery alongside him.

What stays with you is the sheer oddity of the protagonist. Moris Klaw is not a traditional hero; he is a curmudgeonly, brilliant force of nature who views the world as a place where the dead and the living are constantly leaking into one another. He is a memorable character because he manages to be both a charlatan and a genius simultaneously. If you can appreciate the melodrama of the era and the charm of a detective who prefers a nap to a magnifying glass, you will find this a captivating, if sometimes strange, journey through the shadows of early modern London. It is a book that celebrates the triumph of the human mind, even when that mind is operating on the very edge of reality.