It was the 1940's, and The Casebook of Simon Brimmer was the most popular program on the airwaves. Why? Because Simon Brimmer — the public's favorite radio sleuth — was no phony. He regarded himself as a criminologist first, and a radio entertainer second. His listeners perceived him the same way. Most notable of these was Sam Packer — famous play producer; who, in anticipation of being murdered, arranged for Simon Brimmer to be alerted to solve the crime, since he expected the police to put his death down to natural causes, as indeed they did. Indeed, pick up The New York Gazette after the occurrence of a mysterious death in the city and you'd be sure to read that Simon Brimmer had solved the murder before New York's Homicide Bureau, as led by Inspector Richard Queen. At the very least, intrepid reporters such as Frank Flannigan would reveal his role in putting Richard Queen's son, Ellery, on the right track in a particular case.

Only eight cases of Simon Brimmer's invaluable assistance to the police were chronicled in 1975's television series The Adventures of Ellery Queen, but from these shining nuggets his entire personality and career can perhaps be fleshed out.

Simon Brimmer has been described as a "little fellow with a mustache." He was short (about five foot five,) with receding hair neatly groomed; his face very round — with well defined eyebrows, clear brown eyes, a straight nose and a neat mustache over stern lips.

A fastidious man, he usually wore dark blue suits, with a red carnation in his button hole; neckerchief and handkerchief colors invariably matching. His evening dress was equally stylish — a gleaming topper, black cape with crimson lining, and a gold-topped cane. When seated, he would steeple his fingers in thought. He utilized a cigarette holder when he smoked, and enjoyed it, leaning back, inhaling and exhaling with pleasure.

A gourmet and wine connoisseur, he frequented clubs such as "21," "El Morocco," etc. An art connoisseur as well — he attended art auctions and once bid on a Vargo painting.

He has been described as pompous. On the contrary — he was simply totally self-assured. Therefore, anyone who did not recognize him or his talent was simply a fool, or perhaps simply misguided. Never one to miss an opportunity to publicize his radio program, and confident in his solutions, he is not averse to calling up the New York Gazette and informing them when he is about to crack a case.

The largest sponsor of The Casebook of Simon Brimmer was Mr. Pearl's Vita-Cream Shampoo. At one time Pearl almost withdrew his sponsorship, persuaded by his wife to support instead Everyday's Journey, a soap opera. Simon displayed all of his tenacity and stubborness during that crisis, pursuing Pearl like a detective after a suspected criminal, in his attempts to convince the man that such a move would be the sheerest folly! With the murder of a radio actress on Everyday's Journey, Simon seized his opprtunity to show his sleuthing prowess to Mr. Pearl. Fortunately Pearl, who instead witnessed one of Brimmer's rare failures as pointed out by Ellery Queen, was unable to persuade that mystery writer to appear in his own radio show, and decided to maintain his sponsorship of The Casebook.

Brimmer does not mind spending money. He paid the actors of Everyday's Journey to appear on his program, The Casebook of Simon Brimmer, during his investigation of that affair. He also paid a witness $20.00 in order to find out information.

His view of the police, and perhaps the flaw that caused his occasional blunders, was his conviction that the police always erred by overlooking the obvious. On the seven occasions when his errors allowed Ellery Queen to solve the case, most times it was because he was not provided with all the facts in the case. For example in The Adventure of Miss Aggie's Farewell Performance, it was Ellery Queen who was present when the killer brought violets to the victim — the vital clue which was needed to solve the case.

Brimmer chose his words with care:
"Tell your father to alert his minions."
"You had an affair of the heart"

He was familiar with Latin as well: "Requiesat en pace."
A gentleman, he addresses women as "My dear," or "Dear lady."
His speech was full of hints of his radio background:
"Stop stepping on my performance"
"I was on the air, but you were not tuned in..."
"A bit over-played, wouldn't you say?"

He is dedicated to his listeners — when a nine-year old girl wrote in complaining of the sound effects, for example, he immediately called a consultation with his sound effects man. "I don't care how old she is, she's one of my listeners."

We get only a brief view of his history, in The Tyrant of Tin Pan Alley, when he entertains the radio audience with several hours of personal reminiscences: "I was a most delightful child, my only companion a little teddy bear named Muffy."

In affairs of the heart he could be diligent as well. Witness his pursuit of Margie Coopersmith in The Adventure of The Pharoah's Curse — though he would have preferred her to be named Deidre.