Thursday, April 16, 2026

The Lake House - John Rhode

Misanthropic George Potterne is found shot in his back at his solitary retreat, a one room cottage known as The Lake House (1946) a five minute walk from his main house on the estate known as Melcote Priory. The weapon employed is an antique dueling pistol, one of two from a recently purchased set.  The case with one pistol inside is found at the scene of the crime, while the other is missing. Later, the second pistol is retrieved from a man-made lake not far from the cottage after Supt. Jimmy Waghorn has the water drained by opening a dam.

Potterne's wife Sylvia, who will inherit the bulk of his estate, is missing.  She was supposedly sent to France due to a health issue. Or so Potterne has told everyone prior to his murder. Police locate Sylvia Potterne living under an assumed name in a hotel in northern England.  She has left her husband for another man and was planning to divorce Potterne. Her husband was too proud to revel the truth; his name and reputation are everything to him.  He only married Sylvia to have an heir, but she refused to have anything to do with bearing him a child.

The Lake House is a thoroughly engaging, intricately detailed mystery with an abundance of good police work and clever detection.  The characters in this particular Rhode novel are -- for a change -- surprisingly complicated and seem true to life rather than stemming from Rhode's usual menagerie on stock characters and stereotypes.  Sylvia, a former actress, may seem flighty and superficial but has a scene where she has an emotional breakdown that is all too real, not at all artificial or stage-like. Potterne's right hand man, Mr. Naseby is another well drawn supporting character.  An overly cheerful man who was hired to manage Potterne's finances, Naseby is extremely helpful in sorting a bit of a mess with two different wills his employer drew up.  As Waghorn and his policemen continue their investigations the superintendent is intrigued by what appears to be Naseby's infatuation with Sylvia, a woman for whom he wants true happiness. Could he have killed his employer in order for her to inherit?  This is only one of the unusual motives considered in a murder investigation that has several unusal elements.

Also worth mentioning are Mrs. Titchmarsh, Potterne's only living relative, who disapproved of her cousin's marriage.  She didn't' think he was husband or father material. She offers many opinions, is intelligent and a bit tart-tongued in her assessment of her cousin. Mrs. Titchmarsh gives Waghorn a fuller, more accurate picture of who George Potterne was and why he was so disliked by nearly everyone - not just his wife. And there is the mystery man referred to by Sylvia as "Doodles" for most of the novel and whose identity presents a minor puzzle for the police. When Waghorn finally locates this man, a used car dealer, he finds that Sylvia is passing herself a off as his wife.  "Doodles" is a horrible liar and Waghorn has a hell of a time trying to get the truth from him. Eventually he becomes the primary suspect with a horrible fate awaiting him.

Curt Evans in Masters of the "Humdrum" Mystery, his book length study of Rhode and other traditional detective novelists known for their purity of the form called The Lake House "bleak and mechanically complex." I would second that opinion. For a long time it seems as if Sylvia and "Doodles" are a doomed couple. But in the surprising finale Dr. Priestley and Harold Merefield, his loyal secretary (and son-in law, don't forget!) leave the staid Priestley manse and travel to the crime scene where the two stage a theatrical re-enactment of the murder presenting an alternative to what the jury's verdict in the climactic courtroom trial. It does, in fact, seem as if the novel with end with a happy ending. 

Harold pulls off an impressive piece of amateur acting in the role of the condemned man. Priestley, is also impressive in a literally death-defying performance as the victim. It's a theatrical scene, one not often found in any of Rhode's detective novels and made the entire reading experience of The Lake House more than worthwhile. The re-enactment succeeds tremendously and is the true highlight; ingenious in conception, entertaining and witty in culmination.

This is definitely in the Top 10 of the Dr. Priestley detective novels I've read. The story teeters on true tragedy while the investigation reveals the murder victim to be a cruel and sadistic man, obsessed with alchemy and antiques and collecting foreign stamps, indifferent to nearly all human beings. It's a fascinating, but grim study in abnormally obsessive behavior.  One can only sympathize with Sylvia as a victim of cruelty and we long for her happiness even if the man she has fallen in love with seems to be almost as hotheaded as Potterne.  Of course it is also the detective work which keeps the reader flipping the pages rapidly.  Waghorn, now a Superintendent at Scotland Yard, is determined to prove himself worthy of his new job title and position. He is admirable as both a leader and investigator,  In fact Waghorn is complimented three separate times by Priestley for his insight and intelligence.  The crime itself is a marvel of both cruelty and ingenuity.  Rhode is known for gizmos and gadgets and those readers who turn to the Dr. Priestley books for such old-fashioned detective novel gimmickry will not be disappointed. Notably, it's possible to arrive at the solution chapters before the re-enactment takes place in the penultimate chapter.

I was so happy to read a cracking good John Rhode mystery because my last attempt proved a bore. An Experiment in Crime (AKA Nothing But the Truth) began with an interesting concept, but the investigation of the crime was so dreary and repetitive that I couldn't finish it, closed the book, returned it to the CPL and didn't bother writing up a review.  The Lake House is absolutely NOT a bore. Most definitely worth seeking out. Luckily there are several copies out there (ranging from affordable to ridiculously pricey) in both the original UK edition and the US edition re-titled Secret of The Lake House. Currently, my copy is now for sale here. It's priced to sell. Happy Hunting! 

Thursday, April 2, 2026

MOONLIGHTERS: Collin Brooks - Journalist, Broadcaster, Writer of "Shockers"

Reporters always seem to be the best crime fiction writers. Collin Brooks is one of better journalists turned detective novelists that I've encountered in my vast reading of the genre.  His first "shocker" (as he preferred to call them) Mr. X was published in 1927. He joins the ranks of fellow Brits and former reports B.L. Farjeon and Edgar Wallace along with a slew of Americans like Lawrence Blochman, Daniel Mainwaring (aka "Geoffrey Holmes"), Dorothy B Hughes, and Deloris Stanton Forbes. The tradition of journalists who become successful crime fiction writers has continued to the present day with a slew of them often topping best seller lists like Laura Lippman and Michael Connelly. The combination of discipline for deadlines and interview skills must come in very handy when plotting a crime novel. And of course many of these journalists were crime reporters giving them insight into the workings of police procedure and the court system.

Found Dead (1930) was Brooks' sixth crime novel, a true detective novel unlike many of his earlier thrillers and introduced Oswald Swete McTavish, punningly referred to as "Oh Sweet McTavish" throughout the story. McTavish has many similarities to early 20th century amateur detectives and yet both adheres to and defies all traditions of the typical fictional sleuth of the era. He is independently wealthy, has held a variety jobs, and is highly eccentric in manner and speech.  The front cover of my reprint edition likens him to Sherlock Holmes, but McTavish is far from the egocentric dispassionate icon of detective fiction. On the contrary, McTavish is immensely likeable, witty, warm and generous in spirit. He is not without his moments of arrogance but they are infrequent and often tinged with a ironic humor.  One of the most unique aspects of this book is that McTavish discovers his skill in sleuthing in the moment and it develops over the course of this first book.  He is not an established inquiry agent, he decides to become one and enlists the help of two witnesses to a crime as his colleagues.

The book opens with a young women fixing her broken suspender (a stocking garter for us Yankees) on a sidewalk.  Our narrator, Armistead (no first name given) freezes on the sidewalk just behind her to admire the young woman's leg and her provocative pose.  As Armistead is eyeing the woman McTavish comes rushing out of a building and collides with him.  Just then the woman screams and come rushing at the the two men recovering from their crash and she grips both of them crying out "A dead man!" As she was adjusting her garter she has seen a dead body through the window of the basement.  This all happens within the first chapter and the action is non-stop from then on.

Amy Renton, the young woman, eventually is hired to be McTavish's secretary in his instant decision to become a private detective and Armistead is enlisted as his Watson. Both of them will have fine moments to show off their innate talents at detection.  Both are intelligently drawn characters with keen insights and understanding of criminal motives. Interestingly, Brooks has Armistead take over at the climax of the novel and travel to Barfield, a small town in Yorkshire, where many of the puzzling mysteries will finally be explained. Armistead has about four chapters of adventures on his own in which he meets a variety of people who speak openly and frankly ranging from a cheerful and garrulous travelling salesman to a stock in trade gossipy hotel maid.  He also meets and befriends a tobacconist, a barmaid, a junior reporter at the town's local newspaper and finally Amy Renton's mother.

It is, however, McTavish who is the star of the novel. His physical appearance is most striking, especially his large head and unusual facial features consisting of high forehead, long nose and jutting chin leading to a weird comparison to Punch from the famed puppet show. Later we learn that Inspector Ipps enjoys a relaxing hobby of making puppets. Allusions to Punch and his trickster ways involving the hangman puppet in the Punch and Judy shows crop up often.

One of McTavish's many side hustles is writing detective novels. He has published a handful of them using the pen name "Alfred Bruce."  His books are often referred to over the course of the novel. At one point Amy decides to read one and is appalled at the lurid and gruesome nature of the story making her wonder about the turn nature of O. Swete McTavish.  McTavish loves to ruminate about a case while wearing a fez (his thinking cap or sorts) and puffing on a porcelain pipe. He pontificates on a variety of topics -- often in an odd stream of conscience -- and somehow makes it all seem relevant to the strange murder of the man found garrotted in the basement.

Much of the first half of the novel is spent trying to ID the corpse who had no identification on him nor any laundry marks on his clothes. McTavish, to the surprise of everyone, predicts a second murder and when it happens not far from his home the police begin to suspect the eccentric detective as masterminding all the crimes. Amy even begins to suspect him and voices her fears to Armistead in a scene where she lucidly and logically explains exactly how all evidence seems to indicate McTavish is the killer. Inspector Ipps of Scotland Yard in charge of the case is also on the trail of McTavish.  Could our affable detective hero actually be a cruel and sadistic villain?

Found Dead is a corker of a novel. From the bizarre murder weapon to the highly unusual motive for the murders this book is teeming with innovation and excellent writing. Brooks has created vibrant characters, sparkling, often witty, dialogue and filled the book with action and unusual settings. One of the most outre scenes takes place in a Turkish bath just before Armistead sets out for Barfield. At the bath he is approached by a man who seems to be following him. The dialogue exchange is sprinkled with sinister innuendoes and the two men clad only in towels and sweltering in a sauna begin to see each other as adversaries. The stranger even hints to Armistead that a sauna is an excellent setting for the perfect murder -- isolated location, limited exits, steam acting a fog to obscure one's vision. It's the creepiest set piece of the novel. 

photo by Howard Coster, 1935
Courtesy of National
Portrait Gallery website
THE AUTHOR:  William Collin Brooks (1893-1959) was born and raised in north of England. After brief early careers in accounting and as a commercial traveller he took to journalism. In 1913 he founded the Manchester Press Agency and two years later joined the British Army. After his service in World War 1 he wrote for various newspapers in Liverpool, Yorkshire and London ending up as editor at the Financial Times. In 1933 he began working for the Sunday Dispatch where he eventually became Editor.  Between 1927 and 1951 Brooks wrote about 14 novels a mix of thriller, horror and detective novels. He also used the pseudonym “Barnaby Brook” for nine mainstream novels, usually of a romantic nature. In addition to fiction Brooks wrote several non-fiction books covering everything from journalism to economics. He even published two volumes of poetry.  Eventually he became involved in radio broadcasting appearing regularly on Any Questions? and The Brain Trust for BBC Radio. Of his five children, his youngest daughter Vivian Collin Brooks (1922–2003) also became a crime fiction writer and published books under the pseudonym "Osmington Mills", the name taken from a coastal village in Dorset. 

THINGS I LEARNED: When McTavish learns that one of the suspects is named Pedro he describes the name as transpontine. I thought: "Does that mean between the bridges?"  I was close. The dictionary definition is "on or form the other side of a bridge". How on earth does that apply to a First names, you may wonder (as did I)? In the late 19th century transpontine was often used to denigrate melodramatic and sensational theatrical productions which were located on the other side of the Thames, hence the other side of the bridges. McTavish's bit of ambiguous dialogue runs: "He apparently rejoiced in the commonplace and transpontine name of Pedro. Half the faithful muleteers in popular melodrama are called Pedro." Context is not too clear here and I was forced to look up the word to figure out what seemed like two non sequiturs.

Another odd word crops up during the steam bath scene when Armistead calls the sinister gent valetudinarian after he remarks that it's not a good idea to sip water while in a hot room because of the possibility of getting a stomach cramp. (Never heard that one before!) The multi-syllabic word describes  a person who is anxious about their health. A pompous and antiquarian synonym for germophobe, I gather. 

QUOTES: Inspector Ipps on McTavish's stream of conscience style monologues: "You ought to have been a dutch-auction merchant or a camp meeting peanut seller. As a tracer of lost persons your verbal flow is wasted."

McTavish to Armistead: "...when I suggested that I was keen upon finding the murderer of that poor fellow you said that amateur detecting wouldn't work outside the pages of a seven-and-sixpenny thriller, because life is too sane and humdrum. And I replied that it is the novelist's fictional world which is sane and humdrum, because no novelist dares to suggest one tithe of the oddities of life or to use a first-rate coincidence for you. Well, here's a first rate coincidence for you!"

McTavish on his intuition: "I only guessed. I have medals and cups and shields and things for successful guessing. My two hobbies as a boy -- guessing and floating. The modern worship of athletics. The cult of strenuous life. When I wasn't guessing, I was floating. Sometimes as I floated I guessed whether if I turned over I'd be able to swim. Fortunately I never tried."

EASY TO FIND?  Of all of Collin Brooks’ crime novels Found Dead was apparently the most popular.  It was published in three separate editions between 1930 and 1950.  The 1950 hardcover reprint with pictorial covers (shown in the middle of this post) is still offered for sale and at affordable prices. I turned up about eight copies from various online sellers and I'm sure a copy or two may turn up in libraries in the UK, Australia or in used bookstores. It most definitely ought to be reprinted. Innovative, intelligent, and well plotted Found Dead is highly original on so many levels for a GAD book published in 1930.  Happy hunting!