South Florida Sun-Sentinel (Sunday)
Detective mystery a glimpse at gay life in ’50s San Francisco
Lev AC Rosen channels the old-fashioned private eye novel and the locked-room mystery while delivering a tense character-driven story about gay life in 1952 San Francisco in “Lavender House.” While the search for a killer lays the foundation of “Lavender House,” Rosen delves into homophobia, the need for connection and the secrets that motivate believable characters in this historical mystery.
Evander “Andy” Mills always wanted to be a cop and, at age 32, he had grown into a skilled inspector for the San Francisco Police Department. That ended when he was arrested during a raid on a gay club. He wasn’t just fired, he was blacklisted from ever being a cop again, kicked out of his apartment and disparaged by his former police colleagues, whom he had considered his friends. Remember, “Lavender House” is set in 1952, not 2022.
Believing he has no future, Andy is contemplating suicide when Pearl Velez offers him a kind of redemption. Pearl wants him to investigate the death of Irene Lamontaine, who was head of a popular, lucrative soap empire. He was surprised Pearl called Irene her “wife,” as he had never heard anyone call their same-sex partner that, “as if it was the most normal thing.” Pearl believes Irene’s fall from a staircase was murder, not an accident at the family mansion on the isolated Lamontaine estate.
Irene loved to create her soap brand’s unique floral scents, especially using lavender to make Lamontaine Soap special. Their
home was called Lavender House, after the massive gardens, and is filled with family and friends who have become family.
Rosen sculpts fully realized characters — Pearl and Irene’s son Henry, his partner Cliff; Henry’s legal wife, Margo, and her partner Elsie; and three staff members. Everyone who lives at Lavender House, including the staff, is gay, except Margo’s mother, Alice, who manages the household. None of the residents, especially Pearl, wants to believe Irene was murdered because that would mean a member of the household is a killer. An intruder was highly unlikely.
Rosen skillfully contrasts freedom at Lavender House with the outside world. On the estate’s grounds, the residents can safely show their partners affection, denied them in society. In public, the residents manage a successful business, maneuver among society, attend high-profile functions while keeping their private lives secret.
The house energizes Andy, who has tried to keep his sexuality “invisible” to others. Andy knows about families — his own, the Army, the police force. “Families where I couldn’t be myself, not openly like here. Even with the murder . . . it’s kind of beautiful,” he says. Andy begins to accept his sexuality, believing he can make a future for himself. But for at least one resident, the freedom at the estate is overwhelming, more like a prison.
Each character’s personal struggles are expertly shown. Like in most families, there are squabbles, pettiness and annoyances punctuating every day, but there also is pure, unconditional love and acceptance that elevate “Lavender House.” Rosen leaves the door open for what would be a most welcomed sequel.