Our penultimate visit to the Mason Menagerie also completes our extended stay in the Monkey House. Except here we’ll find no gorillas, grinning or otherwise; this time, the monkeys are purely metaphorical. However, if you are craving some real-life apes, then have I got a true story for you! It’s even a Thanksgiving tale, as befits the season. But we’ll save it for the end. 

1959’s The Case of the Mythical Monkeys begins much like an episode of Perry Mason. There’s no sign of the famous attorney. Instead, we are introduced to Gladys Doyle, a pretty secretary and the latest damsel soon to be in distress. Gladys has been working for a month as personal assistant, secretary, hostess and companion to Mauvis Niles Meade, whose debut novel, Chop the Man Down, is a sleazy sex-fest . . . meaning that it’s naturally at the top of the best-seller list. 

So far Gladys has had it easy living with Mauvis in her dazzling penthouse, answering phones and doing light shorthand. But then her boss asks for a special favor: take a meeting in her place with a publicist from the movie studio that has bought the rights to the book.   And since the meeting is taking place at the luxurious Summit Inn, Mauvis tells Gladys to have fun with the sexy publicist and ski her heart out.  She gives the secretary specific instructions on what route to take to get home: avoid the highway and use a special shortcut. These instructions are VERY specific, so much so that they reminded me instantly of the situation in the classic Sherlock Holmes story, “The Red-Headed League.” (I would like to think Gardner was on the same wavelength; why else give Gladys such a special surname?)

Of course, the shortcut goes wrong and Gladys is stranded in the woods in foul weather. She searches for help and manages to find a secluded cabin. The resident inside is a handsome but surly young man who calls himself “John,” and while he rubs Gladys the wrong way, he does offer her the use of his second bedroom for the night. The next morning, a refreshed Gladys exits her room to find herself in the middle of a Perry Mason mystery – alone in a deserted cabin with the corpse of another man lying on the floor of “John’s” bedroom.

Fortunately, Gladys is well-read enough to know that if you’re in trouble in a Perry Mason mystery, you seek help from the man himself. And just as luckily, her predicament puts a gleam of interest in Mason’s eye. (Maybe he’s been reading his Sherlock Holmes as well!) In a flash, Della has her shorthand notebook out, Paul Drake has been sent to gather data, and Lieutenant Tragg is all set to arrest Gladys for murder. The only question remaining is  . . . what are the mythical monkeys?

I would like to say that this exciting beginning leads to similarly thrilling case, but all that follows is pretty pedestrian. We get a longer-than-usual preliminary hearing where Mason makes the D.A.’s ears blow steam and the judge’s eyes twinkle. There is a twist, involving a clash between the rights of the individual in a state trial vs. the needs of the federal government, that may remind one of, oh, about a thousand things going on in America at this time! But the cast list is quite small, and the murderer is pretty obvious from the get-go.   

That doesn’t mean there aren’t a couple of interesting features on display here. 1959 is right on the cusp of the sexual revolution, and Mauvis Meade represents it well. Her work portends the incredible popularity of Jacqueline Susann, whose 1966 novel Valley of the Dolls made “smut” classy, and all her female successors, like Jackie Collins and Judith Krantz. But even in the buttoned-down 50’s sex sells, as Mauvis explains to Perry Mason:

“An attractive young woman can write a story about a heroine whose clothes keep coming off and describe the resultant consequences in detail. People are shocked. But people love to be shocked . . . Women readers love to read about sex from the standpoint of a woman. Men like to look at the dish pictured on the cover and wonder just how it happened that she learned all those details about the things which are described in the book and which nice girls aren’t supposed to know. It makes for speculation – and sales.”

Gardner will never be accused of an enlightened attitude towards women, so it’s interesting to see a female character who channels her sexual energies into fame and fortune and freely acknowledges how she manipulates the public. Ultimately, Mauvis retreats into the typical femme fatale role that Gardner tends to assign this sort of woman, but her openness to Mason – and her blatant flirtation – is refreshing. 

The other fun facts have to do with food. Careful readers of the Mason books know that Della can eat like a horse and loves a good steak smothered with crispy onions, with a nice creamy potato dish on the side. But did you know that before a big case, Perry likes to eat a pineapple and cottage cheese salad? (“I don’t dare to drug myself with food when I’m going into court,” he explains.) And Paul Drake? All too often, the poor guy is stuck in the office eating cold hamburgers and working while Perry and Della dine like kings. Here, Paul gets his big meal and, since it’s on Mason’s expense account, he orders big:

“I’m going to give my stomach the surprise of its life. I’m going to have a jumbo shrimp cocktail, consommé, a salad with anchovies across the top, a New York cut, medium rare, Lyonnaise potatoes, the best red wine they have in the house, a side dish of creamed onions, and some hot apple pie à la mode.”

That passage alone gained me a half a pound!

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“The Case of the Mythical Monkeys debuted on February 27, 1960, as the seventeenth episode of the third season – a remarkably quick turnaround from book publication to adaptation. It benefits from having Beverly Garland playing Mauvis and a very young Louise Fletcher as Gladys. However, the teleplay is by mystery author Jonathan Latimer, who should have known better. He takes a perfectly straightforward case and twists it around in ways that make you question nearly everyone’s motivations. One book character is killed off and replaced by a wholly new character, a weaselly type played by Norman “Mr. Roper” Fell. His betrayal of a close ally at the end is a sight to behold.

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And now, as a holiday treat, let me share with you my own monkey story, which over the years has attained its own mythical status!

This took place on the day before Thanksgiving, 1962, at our home in Phoenix, Arizona, where my father had moved the family to take advantage of a real estate boom that didn’t happen until we moved back to San Francisco in ’65. My grandmother had come down from SF to spend the holiday with us, and she and my mother were getting ahead on the festive cooking in the kitchen while my brother and I were in our room, pretending to take a nap. 

As we lazed and chatted, little did we know what was happening on the other side of the house. As my mom would tell it, she happened to look over at the kitchen door that led to our huge back yard, and she saw a man’s hairy arm reaching for the doorknob. It was a really hairy arm, but Mom thought it might be our neighbor Doug coming over to say hi. It was not Doug – instead, the door slowly opened and a creature walked in. I used to tell everyone it was a gorilla, but actually it was a very large chimpanzee. 

My mother, who was seven months pregnant, let out a scream. My grandmother, an elegant woman with a calm demeanor, joined in the chorus. The alarmed ape, slipped down a hallway toward my parents’ bedroom, beyond which was the lair of the cherished Friedman boys!

Mom followed the monkey down the short hall and entered her room. The chimp was standing before a large mirror that hung above a bureau, contemplating its existence. Mom quietly shut the door and returned to the kitchen. Had she forgotten that her bedroom had two doors, the other one leading into a separate hall and the other bedrooms??

The two ladies huddled in the kitchen for a panicked moment and then sprang into action. My mother ran into the living room and screamed, “Boys! Boys! Barricade the door!” To which I, the future man of letters, turned to my brother and asked, “What does barricade mean??” Then I turned my head toward our bedroom door – and stared into the gentle face of King Kong, Jr. I think the poor chimpanzee was more scared than I because it backed away. And it was in that moment of sheer necessity that my brother and I intuited what “barricade means, and proceeded to do so. 

My mom had opened our front door in the living room and rushed back to the kitchen. Meanwhile, my grandmother had reached for the phone and dialed the police. “You must believe me,” she cried. “I am here with my daughter-in-law, who is very pregnant, and two small boys, and a giant monkey has entered our home!!” 

The police had no trouble believing her: it turns out that a local man owned a retired circus chimp as a pet, and the poor thing had escaped its cage and wandered a few miles away into the home of the Friedmans. Sensing that it was unwelcome, the chimp proceeded out the front door and plopped down onto our lawn, where it rocked itself and cried. (My brother and I could see this from our window!) Soon enough, a police car and a large station wagon made their way down our street. A man burst out of the wagon, called a name and held out his arms. The joyful simian rose, bounded over, and leapt into the man’s arms. 

It was a happy ending for the man and the monkey, but we had a price to pay. You see, there’s an old superstition that if an expectant mother looks at an ape, her baby will be born looking just like . . . 

Next month, we take our final stop at the Perry Mason Menagerie where we will meet a waylaid wolf! I’ll also give you a hint as to our 2026 Mason theme! It’s a beauty!!