Now Seek My Bones - S. H. Courtier

THE STORY:  A monster crocodile. A private zoo of venomous snakes. An 18th century ship that disappeared. A lost treasure. And the return of an ancient cult of Crocodile Men. Sounds less like a mystery novel and more like a lost screenplay for another Indiana Jones sequel (though Indy definitely would not be happy about the snakes). These are the bizarre elements that feature in the plot of Now Seek My Bones (1957) which is more of an adventure thriller than it is a detective novel. This macabre crime novel ventures into horror territory frequently when an Australian obsessed with his ancestors from Revolutionary era France is found dead in his swimming pool that borders a marshland and draws water from its natural source. He was apparently attacked and killed by a giant crocodile that got through a sabotaged mesh fence designed to prevent entry of fish and other aquatic life. The horrible death is called a grisly accident and dismissed. When the novel opens the family is preparing for the man's funeral. "Digger" Haig, one of Courtier's clever often arrogant series policeman characters, suspects murder and makes his way surreptitiously to the McGorrie ranch to get to the bottom of the skulduggery.

THE CHARACTERS: The ostensible protagonist and something of an aide to Haig is Jeff Galloway, affectionately known as Galley by most of the women in the story. A reporter and friend of the slain Rann McGorrie, Galley is disturbed because he learned of Rann McGorrie's death from an obituary. No one from the family informed him of the death and so he heads to Port Crosby to attend the funeral. When he arrives we meet the members of the small funeral party, mostly relatives of McGorrie.

Kit McGorrie - Rann's daughter who at first seems to be a naive and flighty young girl. But no one is truly what they appear to be in this novel.

Aunt Hilary - Rann's sister, the imperious substitute matriarch of the clan. She insists that her brother died in a bizarre accident. That there is no killer at large...until the ranch is invaded by the strange men wearing crocodile masks who have modeled themselves after a cult of dream-timing indigenous people of decades past.

Norman McGorrie - Rann's nephew. From the outset it seems Norman is nothing but bad news and many readers will peg him as the villain. Sullen, quick tempered, resentful and violent. Hardly anything likeable about Norman. Don't be so quick to judge. Courtier does a fine job of misleading everyone in this mystery novel.

Marion Steele - a mystery woman of sorts. Passed off as a close friend of Kit's but Digger Haig knows who she really is. Galley (and the reader) will also learn her true identity and why she showed up at the McGorrie home after Rann's death. Her interest in 18th century France may have a lot to do with her presence at the ranch.

Hooker Trull - business associate of Rann.  Of all the characters Hooker is a kind of cipher for much of the book.  He seems only to be present as an attraction for the women in the story.  His role is made clearer in the in the final chapters.

Gosh Laffey - The most authentically Australian character of the lot. Immensely likeable, teeming wiht eccentricity, and harboring lots of secrets he is eager to share with Galley. Gosh is the owner of the private reptile zoo a self-styled herpetologist though not a professional one by any means. He has over 150 snakes in a zoo he keeps ont he south end of the property. The collection of snakes consists of both venomous and harmless native Australian species. The star serpent, so to speak, being David, a carpet python (a constricting snake and non-venomous) he often wears around his neck.  The snakes are not just unusual decor for the novel. Their presence will be exploited in a terrifying action sequence that is better left as a surprise.

Once Digger Haig reveals himself in an intriguing scene the cast will grow to include some indigenous peoples among them King Jimmy of the Crocodile Tribe, also known by his native name Koolakuk, who provides much of the history of the crocodile men, where they came form, their purpose and what they are up to now. Also we meet a tracker named Sammy who is the only one of a group of local men who takes his role as a policeman aide seriously. His work in determining how many men invaded the ranch after studying footprints in the dirt and examining broken branches is some of the most helpful native detective work to Haig. 

INNOVATIONS: From McGorrie's fascination with his French ancestors to the story of the crocodile men it's difficult to know where to start in pointing out the originality and innovation. Courtier's strength as a mystery novelist will always be his talent for uncovering some of the uncommon, often just plain weird, aspects of Australian culture and history. Whether it's in his love of the native animal life peculiar to the continent or the mysterious ways of indigenous people and their arcane mores each Courtier crime novel will offer up some fascinating tidbit. Now Seek My Bones, only his fourth mystery novel, offers more than a tidbit, it's a veritable cornucopia of trivia, history and secrets of the natural world. The story gives a crash course in native snakes of Australia, instructs on the difference between the harmless snakes and the deadly ones. The most deadly of all is the taipan. One nasty specimen makes its home in Goff's zoo and it will feature in a terrifying scene late in the book.

The climax of the book occurs when a book on Australian 18th century shipwrecks is found and a story of a missing ship and its mysterious cargo (oh yes it's all related to 18th century France) is related to Haig and Galley by the equally mysterious Marion Steele. She also reveals an unusual rhyming code that Rann McGorrie composed that when solved will lead the trio to a highly unusual hidden treasure. From this point on the book kicks into high adventure mode with many cinematic action sequences. Some enterprising filmmaker ought to grab a hold of this book and turn it into a movie. It's ripe for a 21st century movie-going public with an insatiable appetite for action movies. Underwater cavern exploration and shipwrecks and monster crocodiles?  Can't you hear the money rolling in like the crashing surf?

Somehow Courtier manages to weave in the shipwreck to McGorrie's obsession with his French ancestors and also wrapping up the reason that the crocodile cult was revived in the utterly unexpected finale that takes place in a sort of submerged cavern accessible only at low tide. Nothing is predictable in this thoroughly bizarre, often chillingly macabre, adventure-cum-mystery novel.  Yes, there is also an unveiling of the truly surprising murderer, but that comes almost as an anticlimax amid all the rest of the over-the-top adventure sequences consisting of underwater hunts, nighttime seiges, captures, rescues, and mayhem galore.

EASY TO FIND? Not at all. You may have luck if you live in Australia. I'm sure the libraries have loads of Courtier's books. My copy purchased just last year was the first one I'd seen since I started looking for all of his exceptionally good mystery novels -- most of them extremely hard to find -- back in 2014 or so. Good luck in locating another copy!

IN BRIEF: Death at Ash House - Miles Burton

When I started Death at Ash House (1942) I was ready for some kind of riff on haunted houses or shunned houses or abandoned houses with a curse. Take your pick of whatever subgenre you'd like to call this kind of mystery. Considering the original UK title is This Undesirable Residence -- the ironic opposite of the standard euphemism employed in real estate advertisements -- the house should have been more than a gloomy setting. It could have transformed into a foreboding character, but it just sort of sits there in the background. Burton in his John Rhode guise would have no doubt played up the setting a bit more as he did in the neo-Gothic detective novel The Bloody Tower.  I was disappointed. But not as disappointed with how plodding the book moves along in its first half. This humdrum mystery novel definitely earns that epithet coined by Julian Symons to describe routine, often unimaginative, detective fiction that maintains a strict adherence to detection at the expense of nearly everything else that makes a mystery novel a delightful reading experience. The police work in the first half of this book is close to drudgery with multiple solutions proposed, analyzed and re-analyzed to the point of utter aggravation. Strange all these permutations of who did what and why when the story itself seems deceptively simple.

S.H. Apperley and his secretary/companion Walter Bristow. The two men  are in the process of relocating. Bristow has been charged with checking out a few houses for purchase while Apperley sets himself up in a temporary residence. Bristow was to have visited one final house, then meet his employer at the real estate office and then make their final move into the temporary location.  But the car, laden down with five suitcases three of which contain a valuable stamp collection, and Bristow have gone missing. Apperley goes to the police to report the missing man and car. Eventually, the police find the car parked in front of Ash House. Bristow is dead, his head based in, and all of the luggage is gone. Ash House is in a forlorn neighborhood, in the shadow of a heavily forested area, and the locals tend to avoid the place because it's so lonely and abandoned. The immediate thought is that Bristow has fallen victim to a marauding thief who saw an opportunity to steal the luggage and conked Bristow on the head, probably not intending to kill. The discovery of the murder weapon, a strange metal disc that turns out to be a piece of equipment taken from a water boiler, changes that supposition to definitely intended murder. 

Somewhere around the halfway mark when I was truly ready to skip more re-analysis, jump to the end and find out the answers to three of the many unanswered questions that to me seemed utterly baffling there was a surprise second murder of a character who had never appeared in the book until her dead body was found. Inspector Arnold of Scotland Yard and local policeman Inspector Prickett do some of the best detective work in the novel in determining the identity of the dead woman. When they learn her name there is an unexpected coincidence that sends the whole plot into a new direction. I began to suspect that there would be an upheaval in the entire story. Then Arnold finds a typewritten letter in the woman's room at a boarding house for elderly people where she lived and worked and I had an "Aha!" moment. I literally gasped aloud and saw exactly what Burton had done.

For the remainder of the novel I waited for the final revelation and I was 100% correct. I was delighted and proud of my detective work. For that upheaval in the plot alone this book deserves attention. Initially the plot unravels ever so methodically (often dully, I will admit) and then suddenly is invigorated, so to speak, by the unfortunate second murder. Once the woman is identified the story picks up and some of the best characters appear. The brief interrogation of the stern woman who runs the old people's home and, immediately following, the questioning of the only friendly employee at the same place, a friend of the murdered woman, are highlights in this second half.  Also worth noting is the section where Arnold and Prickett visit and discuss the Napleys, a gypsy family who are working as migrant farmers in the neighborhood picking fruit and vegetables. The bigotry associated with "travellers" and Romany people crops up leading to the ultimate assessment that Isaac Napley, the eldest son of the family known to police for petty theft and trouble-making, most likely is behind the luggage theft and probably the murder of the two victims. However, nothing so predictably prosaic will solve these complex crimes.

THINGS I LEARNED:  Inspector Prickett tells Arnold that the Napleys are not true Romany.  He says: "They're what folks in this part of the country call diddikys".  I know The Diddakoi by Rumer Godden, a novel about gypsy folk that I read as a teenager. I thought, "Are they the same word?"  Indeed they are!  In fact, here is the full list of variants for the word in addition to the spellings already offered: didicoy, diddicoy, and didikai.  There are probably several other spellings with double Ds or single Ds in the second syllable but I'll stop with those three. However you decide to spell the word the term is used to describe people who are not "full blooded" Romany, a mixed race person of half Romany (or any other fraction) plus any other race or ethnicity.

While not one of the most stellar examples of a Miles Burton mystery novel Death at Ash House or This Undesirable Residence is definitely worth reading should you be lucky enough to come across a copy.  It's a rare one indeed. I've never seen a UK edition though the DJ is thankfully stored among the thousands of pictures at the Facsimile Dust Jackets website. I'm unsure if it was ever published either in the US or UK in a paperback edition. No paperback edition turns up when I looked for copies at bookselling sites.  Certainly, the second half of the novel is much improved over its somewhat drearily constructed first half.  The ultimate reveal is cleverly laid out in fair play style clues. Not too obvious, but with some out of the box thinking the final surprise can be arrived at well before Inspector Arnold delivers the whopper revelation to Prickett

Puzzle for Players - Patrick Quentin

THE STORY: Fresh out of his stay at a mental institution where he recuperated from alcoholism and psychological trauma related to his wife's death in a fire Peter Duluth has managed to score a hit play, an angel for financing that play and several veteran actors for his theatrical comeback as producer-director of the melodrama Troubled Waters.  But trouble starts early when the production is forced to move to an ancient, long dormant, and reputedly haunted theater. None of the cast is very happy about their new home.  Especially Lionel Comstock, playing a minor role in the play, who is paranoid about some horrible event that happened there years ago and fears the production may be headed for disaster. Peter dismisses it all as nonsense. After all, theater people are prone to silly superstitions. But when strange ghostly figures appear in a dressing room mirror, and rats infest the basement, it seems that the production may indeed be cursed. Comstock sees the dreaded figure he was worried about and drops dead. Just a heart attack or something more sinister? Then another actor turns up dead in a prop coffin. Peter believes that someone wants the production ended for good and will stop at nothing -- not even murder.

THE CHARACTERS:  Peter Duluth makes his second appearance in Puzzle for Players (1938) and is not much of a detective in this mystery novel. In fact, it is his "angel" Dr. Lenz who will prove to be quite an excellent sleuth. In addition to having helped Peter recover from his trauma in Puzzle for Fools (the first book) Lenz is now the primary financier for the production. His skills as a psychiatrist come in very handy when faced with a couple of puzzling illusions, a murder and attempted murder. Turns out that the novel is very much a psychological mystery and the behavior of several characters is explained in detail by Dr. Lenz over the course of the book. Strange phobias and an actor with an impressive memory for recalling faces from past encounters and are just two examples of "psychological clues" that will help the reader make sense of a rather complexly plotted story.

Being a theater mystery this story tends to be stuffed with melodramatic soap opera-like subplots. There are typical backstage crushes and quasi romances some of which turn out to be something completely different than Peter and the reader originally thought they were.  But the cast is sadly made up of hoary old theater clichés: an oddball stage door codger with a nostalgia issue grieving over his past life; a stage manager who is the miraculous Jack-of-all-trades with a specialty in trapping rats; a veteran actress with a drinking problem; young handsome Lothario as the drunk's protector; a foreign accented actor with dark and alluring looks, a scarred face from an airplane crash, and a secret; and another veteran diva who falls in love with her co-stars as easily as walking down a street. As much as I thought all of these people were stereotypes Webb and Wilson as "Patrick Quentin" do manage to pull off a couple of surprising twists, invert many of the stereotyped relationships, and come up with two well earned surprises in the finale

The best of the characters turn out to be Mirabelle Rue, the diva leading actress with a predilection for swigging from her brandy bottle during rehearsal breaks; her leading man Conrad Wessler, Austrian stage star with the deep, dark secret; and Wolfgang, Conrad's step-brother under Dr. Lenz' care at the Thespian Hospital. The story mainly revolves around these three and their relationship with each other and the other cast members.

Often Peter and Iris seem to be supporting players in their own story even though Peter narrates the book. He spends many pages mulling over his past and reminding us of the trauma of the fire and his wife's death and threatening to hit the bottle more than he does facing the consequences of two deaths in his cast.  Also, the mantra of "the show must go on" seems to infect everyone to the point that the entire company feels it necessary to withhold info from the police so that the play can open and be the success they know it will be. A bit too much even for a theater mystery. To these people the world of the stage is more important than the real world. It gets to be a bore. I only wanted to know who the villain was and why all the sabotage was inflicted on the production.

INNOVATIONS: While the subplots often are tiresome the oddities of the plot keep me engaged. The mystery of the ghost in the mirror is solved fairly quickly, proving to be both simple and utterly creepy when Dr. Lenz explains how the culprit uses the prank to trigger Conrad's fragile psyche and his continuing PTSD from the plane crash.

I especially enjoyed how Mirabelle's alcoholism turns out to be something utterly different primarily because the enabling of an alcoholic really bothered me even for a 1938 novel.  It's a given that heavy drinking seemed to be used way too often for comic effect in days gone by (I guess in some stupid sit-coms it still is) but I still have problems with that trope, especially people tolerating it and enabling the drinker. Webb & Wilson try to make Mirabelle a sympathetic figure who uses alcohol as a refuge but I was glad when it was all proven a sham, that she was seeking refuge in a bottle of something else for a problem that never occurred to me. Also, her relationship with Gerard has a twist in store as well. The Patrick Quentin mystery novels often has clever twists that come out of nowhere and transform something that seemed trite into a refreshingly original idea.

Another nifty plot element is the bizarre murder method used to dispatch a condescending blackmailer, an absolutely gruesome way to go and surely a contribution of Richard Wilson Webb, the lover of the macabre of this writing duo. Also worth mentioning -- Dr. Lenz prescribes acting as a therapy for his patient Wolfgang von Brandt as an ironic means to cure an identity crisis. While this seems radical or far-fetched when all is revealed in the finale (the supreme surprise of the novel) it turns out to be yet another bit of misdirection that I thoroughly enjoyed.

Ultimately, Dr. Lenz turns out to be the detective of the novel. In solving the mystery of the ghost in the mirror he explains why it was necessary to take place in the specific dressing room. He also spots two blackmailers with varying reasons for threatening cast members and the playwright, and in the final pages reveals the dangerous murderer hiding in the company. Peter does very little detecting and in fact Iris  proves herself better as a detective than Peter in this outing. Yet another surprise in the novel.

THINGS I LEARNED: For much of the book Iris continues to press Peter into marriage.  Whenever there is a break in rehearsal she prods him to run down to City Hall to get the license or to run off for the weekend to get hitched. After Peter is bonked on the head by one of the many villains in the story she finally decides to take matters into her own hands. She basically kidnaps him while he is unconscious and drives to Elkton, Maryland.

 

Why so far from New York?  Because as I learned after some fidgety Googling Elkton was the "Wedding Capital of the East Coast" for decades.  Over 10,000 marriages were performed on average each year during the 1910s and 1920s, less during the 1930s due to a change in state law.  For decades there was no waiting period after a marriage license was issued in Elkton and people would get married within hours.  But in 1938 -- oddly enough the year Puzzle for Players was published -- Maryland enacted a state law that enforced a 48 hour waiting period after a license was issued putting a quick end to the "quickie wedding."  To read about this town, that at one time had 20 wedding chapels on its Main Street, and the many celebrities who took advantage of the quickie wedding see this article in Time magazine from Feb 21, 2021.

EASY TO FIND?  A rare "Yes, indeed!" is the answer for a change, my friends. This book was reprinted multiple times in a variety of paperback editions from the 1940s all the way into the 1980s.  Nearly all those are priced well under $15 each. There are a handful of the US or UK hardcover editions as well. Obviously those will be more expensive.  A few collector's copies are out there as well with DJs and are the most expensive, of course. A digital version probably exists too.  But I never bother looking. Someone will most likely point it out in a comment below. Happy hunting!

Greymarsh - Arthur J. Rees

THE STORY:  Sir Roger Liskard and his wife Linda are having a house party. The timing couldn't have been worse. As the guests arrive at Greymarsh, the Liskard's imposing house on the Norfolk coast, a storm is brewing. With the threat of abnormally high tides and surging waves indicating an impending flood the talk turns to Gothic legends, murder and the concept of Justice. Henry Liskard, Roger's brother and a painter of some renown grows weary of the talk which morphs into a legal debate. Henry leaves and takes his art world friends to his studio located in a tower that long ago served as a lighthouse for the area. There they view Henry's strange portrait of a nun contemplating an open grave while a figure representing the Devil watches from a thorny bush in the background. The three friends display reactions ranging from impressed to repulsed. Henry's studio is filled with similar paintings of macabre subject manner.  Eventually, the men leave Henry to retire for the night in his bedroom just off of the studio. He does not escort them out alarming the men who think he ought to lock the door. Henry assures them no one ever comes out to the tower and he often leaves the only entrance unlocked at night. The next morning Henry is found shot dead.  The door to the tower is open as is the door leading to his studio-bedroom. The guests realize almost immediately that due to the raging storm and the tsunami-like waves that flooded the grounds that they are all now on an isolated island and that one of them must have shot Henry.

THE CHARACTERS: After the lengthy exposition dealing with the house party and the several guests who attend, the story focuses on only a handful of people:  Roger & Linda Liskard; Herbert Lintwell, a lawyer who attends the house party; Avis Ormond, a village girl with whom Henry was enamored; George Rumsden, a sailor in love with Avis; Avis' father, a blind fisherman and Creeke, deaf-mute companion and aide to Avis' father. Colwin Grey and his lawyer friend Richard Haldham (the narrator of Part II of the novel) are summoned by Hugh Templeton, friend to Roger Liskard and uncle to Haldham. Templeton wants someone to clear the name of Roger Liskard who is a primary suspect in the shooting of Henry.

The night of the murder Templeton was awakened by a piercing scream coming from the vicinity of the tower.  He went out into the storm and found Roger Liskard a few feet from the tower's main entrance. He had apparently fallen and severely injured himself.  But Roger was also raving and terrified of what he had seen.  He talked about expiation using that word specifically and asked Templeton to make sure Linda knew what happened.  His final words before passing out into unconsciousness was a rant:  "No, no! I will not believe it!  The dead cannot return!" Templeton is both puzzled and frightened by those seemingly insane remarks. That rant alone is reason enough to have Colwin Grey find out exactly went on in the tower the night of the shooting.

Colwin Grey wastes no time in his investigations.  He is of the intuitive school of detection but also has superhuman intelligence and a wide knowledge on a variety of arcane topics. We learn, for example, that in his boyhood he was fascinated with seaweed and made a study of it.  This, of course, comes in extremely handy when he finds a piece of "blood red" seaweed near the tower.  It turns out to be of the Rhodophyta division, seaweed that can only grow in deep ocean water and may be an indication that someone traveling from the sea brought it up on shore.  Haldham and Templeton find it hard to believe that anyone would be mad enough to set out in a boat during the storm in order to gain access to the makeshift island created by the severe weather. It would've been a suicide mission. Grey is sure that someone did visit the tower by boat and that they suffered the consequences of the rash decision by being swallowed up by he sea.

Through subtle manipulation of villagers and playing into their love of gossip Grey learns of Henry's love of women. They served as his models for his paintings and the stories include strong intimations they were more than just models. Grey is also the first to notice that the partially hidden face of the nun in the painting still on the easel the night of Henry's death resembles Linda Liskard. This fact opens a whole Pandora's box of motives ranging from jealousy to revenge. This coupled with the fact that both Linda and Roger interrupted Lintwell in his investigation of the tower the day after the murder adds another level of suspense in a tale that begins to grow ever more complex.

We know from one of the earliest chapters that Henry enjoys meeting Avis in secret out by the coast where he sketches her and they talk of life in the village. Lately Avis has withdrawn from the world and is often seen wandering the marshlands and spending time in the cemetery at Henry's grave. Grey is concerned for Avis and her morose moods. He says, "Her grief strikes me as rather excessive--in the circumstances. No; the reason lies deeper than [grief]." Eventually he will confront her and manage to get her to confide in him, thus clearing up the one or two puzzling aspects of Henry's death. Grey is convinced the murderer is dead and tells Avis this thinking it will console her. But finding proof of his theories will take time and considerable effort.

ATMOSPHERE:  Greymarsh (1927) is populated with brooding characters haunted by the coastline and the power of the unpredictable sea. Rees' writing is at its best when he is describing the fury of the ocean and the storm that was such a threat to the partygoers at the Liskard home.  The macabre and the unexplained are also fascinating subjects for Rees. The first half of the story is a Gothic novel in miniature what with the florid descriptions of the sea, the legend of a murdered monk's skull that was supposed to remain in the tower lest all descendants of Greymarsh fall under its curse, and a story of an impossible murder that took place in Africa related to the men at a key moment during the party. Rees skillfully manages to insert these vignettes into the story’s framework creating both an anxious atmosphere and setting up a clever segue into the role of policemen and lawyers in murder cases.

That African murder tale serves as the springboard for a debate about justice and truth-seeking and will come back to haunt the partygoers when Henry is found dead.  Mortimer, a caustic art critic, reminds everyone of Lintwell's challenge to find a killer among an isolated group of suspects. Lintwell said if he had been in Africa he would never have allowed the seven men to leave until he found the culprit. Likewise, Mortimer says they are all in a similar situation: it seems as though one of their isolated group is a killer. This sets off Herbert Lintwell, an arrogant self-righteous lawyer, on a path of amateur detective work that will prove extremely detrimental to Roger, Linda, Avis and Templeton.

INNOVATIONS:  The detective work -- both from Lintwell in the first half and Grey in the second half -- is engaging and modeled after the old fair play techniques. The reader sees everything each man sees, he knows their thoughts, too. Nothing is held back. However, Lintwell is a sloppy detective and makes rash judgments. A clever reader will be able to note his mistakes prior to Grey revealing them to Haldham and Templeton.

Grey, on the other hand, is the "Transcendent Detective", as Carolyn Wells liked to call the sleuths of this era in detective fiction. He knows more than the average man, sees more, and is skilled at manipulating people into telling him more than they should ever tell. The clue of the seaweed is probably the highlight of the book. It's simultaneously bizarre and amusing, especially when Grey remarks that studying seaweed was his boyhood hobby. Later, Haldham accidentally finds a revolver by stepping on it in a pile of seaweed. Seaweed is key to unravelling the mysteries!

Northeaster by Winslow Homer (1895)
via Metropolitan Museum of Art

QUOTES: "And now? The sea was wreaking fresh wickedness. [...] In its unstable heart lurked treachery, and implacable hatred of mankind."

"...the encircling sea had seemed a joke, but it wore another aspect now, relentless as fate, impassable as time. The sea held them all there captive, until it thought fit to let them go."

"There is no room for sentiment or gentlemanly feelings where murder is concerned."

"The revelation of the likeness in the studio impressed me most, though I did not see that it carried far. And yet, in that veiled and enigmatic picture, the key of the problem might be concealed"

"A murderer has one deed of violence to repent, but a fool has to atone for his whole life."

Avis has a monologue that includes these pithy exclamations:  "The sea is worse than cruel. Cruelty does not matter so much, because everything in life is cruel. The sea is not only cruel--it is wicked as well. There is nothing it loves so much as to wreck ships and drown men. It is a place of ghosts..."

THE AUTHOR:  Arthur John Rees (1872–1942) was born in Melbourne, Australia.  In his early career he wrote for Australian newspapers including Melbourne Age and New Zealand Herald.  Sometime in his 20s he traveled to England where he settled. His first two detective novels were written in collaboration with John Reay Watson. In 1919 he wrote his first solo novel The Shrieking Pit lauded by Barzun & Taylor in A Catalogue of Crime (1989, revised) as "a first rate novel...distinguished from its fellows by an absolutely steady forward march through a variety of clues and contradictions."  I've read this admirable novel and it strikes me as being heavily influenced by Trent's Last Case (1913) even to the inclusion of a similar clue involving missing shoes and a young man and young woman lying in order to protect each other. After a brief series of novels featuring Colwin Grey, Rees introduced his new policeman detective, Inspector Luckcraft, who would feature in seven more mystery novels from 1926 through 1940.

Colwin Grey Detective Books
The Threshold of Fear (1925)
Simon of Hangletree (1926) - U.S. title The Unquenchable Flame (1926)
Greymarsh (1927)
The Investigations of Colwin Grey (1932) - collection of 8 stories and 2 novellas

 

The Croaking Raven - Gladys Mitchell

THE STORY: Despite its gruesome deaths by falling and crushing in a Norman castle The Croaking Raven (1966) is very much like a 21st century mystery. You know the kind:  tea parties and bakeries and gossipy characters, one of whom has an unusual profession. Like a tour guide of a castle who turns into an amateur sleuth when someone falls down a flight of stairs and dies.

It's Hamish Gavin's tenth birthday and for his present he has demanded that his family rent a castle in the advertisement he found in a local newspaper.  They do so and off they all go along with Dame Beatrice Bradley in tow.  Part of the lease requires the renters to open the grounds to visitors twice a week for four or five hours. Hamish can't wait to turn their rental property into a tourist trap. He mans the card table and collects the admission fee of a half crown, charges another shilling for parking cars in the courtyard and persuades his policeman father Robert Gavin, also a talented sketch artist, to whip up some souvenir drawings for yet another money making opportunity. All goes well until they start getting requests to see the bloodstains and are pestered with jokey queries about the ghost.

Bloodstains? Ghost? Did someone die in the castle? And how long ago was that?

Yes, indeed there was a death. Tom Dysey fell down the stairs the evening following a dreary party two years ago. And the rumors of a ghost are not just stories when the renters hear singing at night coming from within the walls and Hamish sees a white clothed figure appear in the dining room then slowly shrink and disappear into the floor. Is the castle truly haunted?  Hamish, his mother Laura, and Dame Beatrice turn sleuthing ghostbusters to find out what exactly is going on in the Dysey estate. Not much later after they settle in another person falls to his death.

CHARACTERS:  There's quite a large cast here and nearly everyone is a Dysey forcing Dame Beatrice and the others to refer to nearly everyone by their first name. There's Tom, the first victim of death by falling, and his brothers Eustace and Cyril.  Cyril's wife whose first name I don't even recall because she's always referred to as "Cyril's wife" nearly every time in order to avoid confusion with the other Mrs. Dysey (widow of Tom) whose first name is Henrietta. She goes by Etta but she's rarely called Mrs. Dysey because another Henrietta turns up and she also claims to be a Mrs. Dysey.  Who exactly is she supposed to be married to?  Tom?  Eustace?  We never find out the truth about this other Henrietta until the final third of the book. This other Henrietta appears only once in the story as a comic figure. She is a tourist who claims to be psychic and refuses to pay admission to the castle as she is a member of the historical society and she should be exempt.  This second Henrietta may appear only once but her persona hovers over all the proceedings.

Then there are the Carters who we also learn late in the book are related to the Dyseys because the grandmother was born Charlotte Dysey and is the great aunt of all the other Dyseys. And did I forget Bonnamy Dysey?  Henrietta Dysey (Tom's widow, that is) had a memorial plaque in his name placed on the outer walls of the castle and everyone assumes he's dead. But is he really?

Chillingham Castle courtyard,
supposedly the most haunted
castle in the UK

The tangled web of Dyseys and Carters, two mysterious deaths and an absent relative make up only a small sample of the many unanswered riddles. Dame Beatrice wants to make sense of it all but it will take a lot of intense questioning and probing to unravel the skeins of ambiguity. Not many people are willing to cooperate until the second, in some cases third, confrontation with the formidable Beatrice Lestrange Bradley.

We get a cameo from Jonathan Bradley (the Dame's younger son) and his cipher of a wife Deborah, too.  Jonathan helps explain the mystery of the ghost and in so doing uncovers a secret passage. Not a real spoiler as this happens very early in the book. The secret passage plays a very large part in the story.

The best characters in any Gladys Mitchell mystery are the supporting players.  I will mention Percy Bellairs, the gardener at the castle and Mrs. Dysey (Cyril's wife) as two of the most interesting and intriguing of this rather large cast.  And Hamish is an utter delight. Precocious to be sure, as most of Mitchell's child characters usually are, but delightful nonetheless.  Mitchell was a former schoolteacher and you can tell her love of children whenever they appear in her books.  They are almost all infectiously affable.  Sadly, he disappears with his father for the bulk of the book. Robert and Hamish both return at the end and luckily mother Laura (secretarial assistant/business associate to Mrs. Beadley for many of the novels) has a surprise for him when she reveals the secret of the ghost in the final paragraphs. It's a tidy and heartwarming way to end the novel.

Tom Dysey falls down a newel stairway
or spiral staircase to modern readers

INNOVATIONS:  Detection occurs in The Croaking Raven but much of it take place offstage, peripherally mentioned and then discussed after the fact at length in wordy dialogue laden passages. For example: Why don't we follow Dame Beatrice into the priest's hole and watch her train her flashlight as she explores the space and then lands her light on the second corpse that dies by falling? Instead we get these two sentences: "So saying, she ducked under the low doorway and made for the steps. It was a long time before she reappeared." Considering Mitchell's predilection for outré plot elements, legends, ghosts, and hauntings this was a huge missed opportunity for added creepiness. Nearly all of the book is devoted to lengthy Q&A sessions that are often interrupted forcing Dame Beatrice to seek out individuals two or three times to pester them again for the questions still unanswered.

I must mention one thing that I marvel at when I read a Gladys Mitchell mystery novel. She is a master at rendering regional dialects. Never does she ridicule speech patterns or odd vocabulary, it is always done with authenticity and respect. No other writer of crime fiction is as skilled at this as Gladys Mitchell. Truly! I've read hundred of books with phonetic dialects and 90% are just wretchedly mimicked (revealing more about the author's sense of hearing than accurate vocal inflections) or an utter mockery of the dialect. Mitchell loves the rhythm, the elisions, and the rich and unusual vocabulary and slang. Reading the dialogue of Bellairs, the gossipy gardener and Cyril's wife, an angry woman whose speech always reveals her tone and hidden frustrations, were for me the best parts of this novel. I could definitely hear their voices as I read those passages.

Only the final third of the novel really delivers the goods. Much of the detective work is surmising about primogeniture, birthright, birth order in the Dysey family and trying to secure a motive for the two deaths of the Dysey brothers.  Is it a greedy fortune hunter?  Is it revenge for the "bastard" child Henry whose parentage is never really known until the final pages? All the familial rehash, genealogy and talk of who will inherit got to be dreary. Only when the Raven's Hoard is mentioned do things finally pick up. This is a legend about a hidden treasure stowed away by Jesuits during the late 18th century. Then a bible is stolen, and returned mysteriously, rudely dumped in a pig sty. Soon Dame Beatrice is off on another puzzle solving adventure that will involve a strange code found in underlined passages in a text book on household care.  All these odd plot maneuvers are typical of Gladys Mitchell, reminding me again of the strange gimmicks in contemporary cozy mystery novels.

Overall,  The Croaking Raven is kind of a mixed bag. As usual, Mitchellesque epigraphs head each chapter. This time she selects passages from a variety of obscure Scottish folk songs to hint at the content of each chapter. Even with these atmospheric touches, attempting to inject eerie frissons with their allusions to ghosts and violent death, The Croaking Raven meanders along with intermittent thrills and a few surprises until its somewhat predictable end. The villains are not a surprise, some of the mysteries fizzle out, others never fully explained, and the finale seems too pat. I'd recommend this only to those who are Mitchell completists.

EASY TO FIND? Not really. I bought my copy decades ago and I've not seen one since. There is no US edition and I know of no paperback reprint since it was first published in 1966. But! I'm offering mine for sale online and just lowered the price. It's the only copy currently for sale.

IN BRIEF: Murder in the Procession - Leslie Cargill

Back in 2021 I read Death Goes by Bus by Leslie Cargill which was his first foray in detective fiction.  I wasn't impressed.  But I had bought a slew of Cargill's books because many of them were the only copy being sold and all of them were fairly cheap. I figured one of them had to be better than his first attempt at a mystery novel.  Lo and behold!  Murder in the Procession (1937) proves that Cargill did not have the usual sophomore slump. In fact, it is much better on multiple levels -  in writing, plotting, characters, and sheer originality.

In this second novel Cargill introduces a new series character who would replace his less than interesting, supercilious and thoroughly irritating puzzle maven Morrison Sharpe. Major Mosson in no amateur sleuth like Sharpe luckily. Instead, he is a Scotland Yard administrator who after being permitted by the C.I.D. to assist in the investigation of what appears to be a political assassination enlists all manner of experts from ballistics and armory men to a woman who works in a cinema studio. Late in the book when Mosson is being lectured to by a French policeman who has figured out how the assassin disguised his rifle we get some insight into just what kind of lawman Mosson is:

Here he represented the very spirit of the British police system, its integrity, obstinacy, blind reliance in established principles of justice and all that had meant from the time of the Bow Street Runners to the establishment of [Hugh] Trenchard's famous [Metropolitan Police] college.

Two elements make this detective novel all the more intriguing.  It is set during the coronation of George VI in May 1937. There is a parade to take place with an assortment of international VIPS in attendance. Amazingly, during the parade in front of thousands of witnesses General Vincent Parminster is shot dead.  The gunman managed to kill the general without anyone seeing a weapon of any type and escaped promptly after the shooting. Who had accomplished all that so seamlessly?

The bulk of the book is spent on painstaking detective work using news reel footage to examine the exact moment of the shooting. Several different films from news cameras shot from various angles are reviewed repeatedly at a local cinema studio. Phyllis Hulme, a Jill of all trades in the world of photography, is one of the most fascinating characters in the book. She can develop film, enhance the contrast, edit, enlarge and anything else Mosson and his crew of policemen need done. She is instrumental in providing most of the best footage to help ferret out where the gunshot came from.  

You may be thinking that this all rings a bell, right?  "But this is just like the Zapruder film!" Yes, indeed. What a prophetic book. A detective novel with a fictional plot written two and a half decades prior to that tragedy. A novel that seems to have predicted how one man's amateur movie was key in the police investigation of the JFK assassination. I was floored by this eerie coincidence.

The method in Murder in the Procession is, however, far more bizarre than a sniper shooting from a tower.  The killer was in disguise and had also managed to cleverly hide the murder weapon. It's all rather ingenious reminding me of another detective novel by the obscure American writer Morrell Massey. But I better not mention the title because it will give a huge hint to the solution.

In addition to this impossible crime of sorts there is some political satire about Eastern Europe, a diplomatic imbroglio involving a delegate from the fictional country of Baltnia.  Some minor complications in that subplot but thankfully nothing as baroque as one of Anthony Hope's Ruritarain novels.  Eventually I was a bit let down when after the riddle of the murder weapon is solved and the murderer is apprehended we learn that the killing was rooted in a motive as old as the hills.  Ah well, there had to be one flaw in this almost perfect book.

Those interested in the full story of Murder in the Procession will be hard pressed to locate a copy.  I recently sold my copy on eBay, the only copy I know of in existence. There are unfortunately no other copies for sale online. Try your luck at a library or interlibrary loan.

IN BRIEF: The Cock's Tail Murder - Hugh Austin

A wealthy bachelor who breeds and rents his prize cock-fighting rooter is found shot to death, a bullet in his head, in the doorway to the coop where several chickens are missing, including Bolivar of Reynor, the prize cock. In a surreal touch a brightly colored tail feather is draped along the outside of his ear.  ANd so The Cock's Tail Murder (1938) begins.

If the reader is expecting to learn a lot about the exotic breed of fowl (Oriental Anseel as Austin calls them in the book, but actually known as Aseel or Asil these days) or the now outlawed practice of cockfighting he will be a sadly disappointed. All facts related to fowl all info dumped very quickly in the second chapter and rarely talked about again. Instead we get another one of Hugh Austin's fair play methodical, police procedurals which does more for furthering the world of cynical policemen than it does anything else.

Lt. Peter D. Quint is in his sixth case in The Cock's Tail Murder.  Savvy readers will notice his initials spell out PDQ, a nickname he's earned from his fellow cops for his no-nonsense, efficient approach to police work.  Thankfully he's less than the annoying ass he was in his debut, It Couldn't Be Murder! (1935), the only other Austin novel I've read out of the small collection of Austin books I've acquired. Quint's most notable trait is his irascible nature and for this penultimate crime solving adventure he's been considerably toned down. When faced with lazy thinking cops or witnesses and suspects who toy with him Quint tends to lose his temper. This quote sums up Peter Quint succinctly: "When [he] stepped from the car his pointless irritability had changed to a sharp impatience with anything that delayed him from getting down to business as quickly as possible."

Numerous police sergeants and lower level cops appear throughout the story. Very quickly we get to know the crime scene photographer, a fingerprint expert who is squeamish at bloody murder scenes, and a rookie cop eager to prove he is first rate detective material by noticing key evidence before any of his more experienced colleagues.  There is also a robotic, insensitive slob of a Medical Examiner who makes a quip about the death being a suicide revealing he's also lazy and likes to write off obvious murders to close the case speedily and move on the next. Quint deals with this sarcasm impatiently as expected. The M.E. wants to know when the victim ate his last meal and wants that info soon so as to make his required autopsy go easily and quickly.  Every time we meet another law enforcement agent or cop (with the exception of the excitable rookie) they turn out to be jaded and blasé.  Interesting that a pre-WW2 era American writer had picked up on this aspect of police work so early in the genre. I thought the jaded cop in fiction grew out of the 1960s and 1970s.

But even with the unusual background of a womanizing chicken fancier and the art of rooster breeding the unfolding of the action is routine and a bit plodding. The majority of the book is devoted to Q&A style investigative work.  While Austin has fun with narrative tricks like alternating POV, and prose summaries of interviews rather than dialogue, they don't improve the flow or amp up the excitement. On occasion he creates a highly dramatic scene so artfully done it comes as a real shock. An example: a Q&A with a husband and wife who Quint finds playing croquet in their front c garden. Walter Atwood and his wife are clearly not getting on very well. Acerbic dialogue reveals this but the manner in how the two play their game is even more revealing.  Walt swings his mallet like a golf club and when his wife complains about his violent method he counters that he's on vacation and he wanted to be on the golf course. Mrs. Atwood delivers barbs and implies she was seeing Victor Reynor, the murder victim, as more than just a neighbor.  Immediately after that comment Walt sends his wife's croquet ball sailing across the yard, bouncing off the curb and rolling down the street along the gutter.  She leaves the yard and silently chases after the ball as Quint leaves completely put off by their behavior.

Austin likes to alternate the point of view by leaving Quint and his team of policemen to follow the action with other characters.  This is an attempt to create suspense and dramatic irony.  Suspects have confabs about their lying and cover-ups prior to Lt. Quint discovering those lies. It doesn't really work effectively because those scenes are inserted into sections of the story where they actually impede the action.

One more thing that makes Austin's books novelty items is his announcement that they are fair play mystery novels. In fact this claim is emblazoned on the endpapers of most of his books which were published by Doubleday Doran's "Crime Club".  The most interesting aspect of this book is not really the murder and whodunit, but the mystery of who stole the chickens and what became of them. That part of the novel is legitimately clued rather cleverly and the fate of the chickens is perhaps the most surprising feature in the entire book.

The Man Who Looked Back - Joan Fleming

THE STORY:  Anti-social Roy Unithorne has personal issues with the entire world. He dislikes his pleasant amiable, utterly harmless wife, Amy and is resentful of her friendships, especially with their boarder Islay Brown, a nurse at a local hospital. Roy begins to fantasize about Islay, imagining her a possible romantic partner. But she is repelled by him. Roy decides to "improve" himself by beginning an exercise regimen running along the beach every day.  Islay finds this amusing and she and Amy talk about Roy and his fitness kick.  Then Amy disappears.  Is she dead or did she leave Roy?  He tells two different stories to two different groups of people. To his new landlady and her daughter he says that Amy died suddenly. To the people he rents his home where he and Amy lived he says his wife became ill and went to live with a relative in Scotland. Why the two stories? Is either true? What really happened to Amy?

THE CHARACTERS: The Man Who Looked Back (1951) is Fleming's fourth novel, the second to be published in the US and it indicates a new style of crime novel for her, one that she would perfect in the 1960s. Like The Deeds of Dr. Deadcert (1955), her eighth novel, it is an inverted crime novel focusing on a criminally minded individual with a narrative emphasis on his thoughts and behavior. We mostly follow Roy's point of view though we do also get interruptions with the introduction of Islay and her fiancé Joe who become accidental amateur sleuths determined to find out the truth about what happened to Amy. Other minor characters also appear in various interludes. Fleming drops very subtle clues in these sequences about what happened to Amy Unithorne.

Roy is one of those fascinatingly odd characters that Fleming does so well in making believably eccentric and simultaneously creeping out the reader with his obsessions that ultimately will bring about his downfall. Living in his own world and fancying himself the object of desire of nearly every woman he encounters Roy goes about constructing plans for these women.  When they fail he sees the women at fault never himself, constantly perceiving his interactions only through his own skewed imagination without ever seeing those women as who they truly are.

Joan Fleming
(publicity photo circa 1966)

Lucy Shiplake, his landlady's daughter, is perhaps even more fascinating than Roy because we first learn that she finds Roy extremely odd and yet wants to find out why he seems so unhappy.  She makes him her "project" testing the waters by first teaching him to how to play chess, getting progressively closer to Roy with each new discovered pastime.

And yet Roy is still resentful and cannot appreciate Lucy's kindnesses. He has been snubbed by Islay who he foolishly proposed to in a scene that has a surprise for both Roy and the reader. He feels humiliated and explodes into one of his nasty fits and forever changes Islay's opinion of him.

Interspersed between the story of Roy and his women, we get several scenes with his boarders the Joneses who are baffled about the alternate story Roy gave them about Amy; marvelous scenes involving Roy and his landlady Mrs. Shiplake resulting in his destruction of a curtain that has terrible consequences for Roy and the Shiplakes; Joe and Islay's amateur detective work; and the late introduction of a police duo known only as Inspector A and Sergeant B who begrudgingly find themselves conducting what at first seems a routine missing person case but turns into a surprise murder investigation.

INNOVATIONS:  Apart from the unusual shifts in point of view I found Fleming's clever insertions of clues related to Amy's disappearance to be the most original part of the story.  And several amusing scenes dealing with the Unithorne's daffy neighbor Mrs. Parker and her obsession with Amy's cat Arthur who has been prowling around the local coal delivery company. Mrs. Parker is determined to capture Arthur and take him in as her pet.  She is worried about the animal which seems to be wandering around aimlessly taunting both her and the workers at the coal company.  Arthur enjoys spending an awful lot of time in two locations: in the branches of a tree overlooking Roy's flower and herb garden, and on the high roof of a building overseeing the coal cars at the factory. These scenes prove to be Fleming's most clever method of slyly indicating that the cat was a witness to some foul deed involving Amy.

Also, the book has a "howdunnit" element in that it takes the entire length of the book to discover exactly how Amy was killed and the body disposed of. In fact, there are multiple deaths and a couple of attempted murders. Although the clues related to Roy's highly unusual method are not really inserted into the story until well past the halfway mark Fleming has some unconventional scenes between Joe, a university medical student specializing in forensic medicine, and his mentor Dr. Giles Bangor, in which they discuss the possibility of poison. Suspecting Roy to be a murderer they indulge in some armchair psychology to figure out exactly what kind of poison he would select. Usually, I find this kind of pop psych to be risible in works of fiction, but here Fleming makes it seem not only logical but thoroughly believable.

For those who enjoy the works of Minette Walters, Ruth Rendell and even Patricia Highsmith I would highly recommend The Man Who Looked Back as an fine example of psychological suspense that those three other writers were masters of.  Joan Fleming in her early career was just as innovative as those three better known writers. Her work is unjustly ignored these days. At the height of her popularity when the books were first published she received accolades from fellow mystery writers turned reviewers like Anthony Boucher and Dorothy B. Hughes as well as numerous newspaper reviewers both in the US and in her native England. She ought to have remained in print as long as Highsmith, IMO. Luckily, her books were reprinted by the thousands in mass market paperbacks and you can still find most of her books, including this one, for cheap both in brick and mortar stores and online. Do yourself a favor and check her out!

The Curiosity of Mr. Treadgold - Valentine Williams

Horace Bowl Treadgold, third generation tailor in a family owned Savile Row clothing business, has two hobbies: philately and criminology. People with problems that should be police matters seek out Treadgold because they don't wish for police intrusion which is usually all about preserving their reputation and avoiding bad publicity. The Curiosity of Mr. Treadgold (1937) is a collection of nine short stories and one novella with the plots involving theft, disappearances, blackmail and murder. Previously in William's output Treadgold made his debut in the novel Dead Man Manor (1936) set in Quebec. He also appears in a later book, The Skeleton in the Cupboard.

Treadgold is yet another private inquiry agent in a long lone of characters modeled after Sherlcok Holmes.  Nearly all of the stories involve the kind of inductive reasoning Conan Doyle made famous with his iconic detective.  Not many of Williams' stories, however, are at all innovative or unique. The most original aspects are Treadgold's unusual profession and clientele which take him out of England to North America on occasion and his equally unusual habit of frequently quoting his favorite work of fiction -- Tristam Shandy, the 18th century picaresque novel by Laurence Sterne, a work that no one to my knowledge reads anymore or is even familiar with. Tristam Shandy is the Bible of H.B. (as he prefers to be called). George Duckett, H.B.'s lawyer and the narrator of all the stories, is rightly irritated each time another Sterne quote pops out of the Tailor's mouth.  And they happen in every story, often more than once. By the time a reader has finished the collection he may feel that he has read Tristam Shandy in its entirety.

A brief rundown of the stories follows.

"The Red Bearded Killer" - The title character is attacking women with a knife. Most are just frightened, one is murdered. A survivor of the attacks tells H. B. that in addition to his vibrant red beard the assailant wore a strangely colored overcoat in a pattern of green and brown plaid on a mustard background. H.B. uses his knowledge of clothing construction to explain the odd disguise and easily finds the knife-wielding maniac. The crime's motive is blasé.

"The Singing Kettle" - A strange sound is heard prior to death of a woman's wealthy uncle. he appears to have died of natural causes but the niece suspects the sinister servants in his household did him in. Daily delivery of ice cream to household is the major clue to how the death was in fact a cruelly executed murder.  Reminiscent of a similar clue in a John Dickson Carr novel published in 1941 and an American mystery writer's debut published in 1940.  Cannot reveal the title of either book without spoiling the surprise murder method. Unsure if Williams actually beat these two writers at using this method as I have yet to encounter any earlier instances prior to 1937. This may genuinely be an original idea for 1937.

"The Blue Ushabti" - the requisite Egyptology story of the collection. I think every crime short story collection had to have a tale that involved mummies of artifacts form ancient Egypt. Blame Christie and Van Dine. This was a dull story about the title object. A theft and switcheroo occurs during a blackout and  I couldn't help but think of a similar incident that occurs in the classic French Legion adventure novel, Beau Geste (1924). Despite the Egyptology background this is a prosaic unimaginative story.

"The Dot-and-Carry Case" - title refers to a nightclub. First truly interesting story in the collection. H.B. questions a police case listed as a murder/suicide and almost closed as such. Married found shot in his car and a vulgar showgirl is shot in her temple. Police say she killed her lover then herself. But the man's wife doesn't buy any of it. She loved her devoted husband and cannot believe that he would betray her by having an affair with a lowly showgirl, especially this particular showgirl known for her loose and flirtatious manner with a string of lovers. Leila Trent is described as a guttersnipe (!). She also ran with a drug using crowd and was a dealer herself. Story involves stolen identity and masquerade. The whole story is rather well done if a bit rushed in the finale.  I liked the scenes with Leila's roommate, Edna, a well drawn example of a uneducated entertainer who nevertheless has a good understanding of human nature.

"The Case of the Black F" - Mangled body of man found at foot of a train bridge cannot be identified because if s face is crushed. Excellent detection in this one once again using H.B.'s profession of tailoring.  He does a through examination of the man's clothes, especially in the trouser turn-ups, or cuffs as he tells the police they are called in America. Despite all markings having been removed H.B. determines where the suit was made and comes up with an idea of the kind of man who would purchase such clothing.  He immediately notices that the clothes do not fit the corpse? Is this man really Axel Roth as his personal effects seem to indicate? Some knowledge of Portuguese and German will aid the reader as they do H.B. when he realizes cryptic notations in the man's diary are not in English. First story in the book about spies and espionage which were the primary interest of Valentine Williams.

"The Strange Disappearance of Miss Edith Marless" - Blackmail of a woman addicted to gambling. H.B. consulted by the husband to spare them embarrassment and ruinous publicity. Involves rather obvious masquerade which I spotted instantly. Somewhat innovative but another extremely rushed finale. The story is all incident with all the clues delivered in the hastily delivered two page ending. Most of the stories in the book fit into this formula. Williams cannot maintain suspense in the short story form.

"Donna Laura's Diamond" - Missing princess, cursed diamond ring, decapitations. H.B. searches for Gemma Malatesta who was most likely kidnapped by professional crooks who want the diamond as ransom. Very action oriented, like an American pulp magazine story. Another slapdash ending with multiple car wrecks and slaughter of the villains.

"The Murder of Blanche Medloe" - Flighty Mrs. Medloe checks into Hardmore MAnsions wiiht Frank Barkley.  She doesn't check out. Maid finds Mrs. M strangled on a couch in her hotel room. Barkely is gone, but his luggage is left behind. Third story in which H.B.'s profession comes into play. Lots of Holmesian induction based solely on where the clothes came from and their wear and tear. Another Holmes touch is H. B.'s knowledge of exotic tobacco and he notes that the tobacco "silt" he finds in the luggage and clothes indicate a Boer brand from South America. This story is well plotted with an outlandish coincidence incorprated into the story as an example of how true detection can often go astray when the improbable and unpredictable occurs. A luggage thief steals the case of the murder victim's ex-husband! Very enjoyable and unusual story.  Perhaps my favorite of the book.

"The Man with Two Left Feet". This is the story which inspired the illustration on the cover of the US first edition (shown at top of this post). A Russian scholar is bludgeoned in his study and money is robbed from a safe. Young translator Christopher "Kit" Kendrick who was working with the professor is arrested. His girlfriend, another Russian translator and secretary to the professor, believes Kendrick is innocent.  Much circumstantial evidence does not work in Ki'ts favor. H.B. investigates with permission of police. He finds two left footprints, at scene of crime outdoor near a brick wall.  Also finss the murder weapon - a French bayonet belonging to Kendrick who has a collection of war memorabilia.  Uh-oh! Things do not look good for Kit Kendrick. Clearly someone wants him to take the blame. Nicely done story with some extremely unusual business involving war veterans and amputees. My second favorite tale in the book for the relationship between Kit and his girlfrined and the innovative portion involving the search for the title character.

The final story, Murder Stalked at Sea Nest, although at novella length sadly is the most formulaic of the lot. There are two deaths but the plot is overloaded with cliché bits like footprints, a tennis shoe lace, a hastily burned note with partially legible writing and some business with a phonograph record. One of the victims is a blackmailer.  The only interesting thing really is that George Duckett, the narrator/lawyer, takes part in the action much more as a sidekick detective rather than simply observing and reporting what took place.

Interestingly, this is not as hard to find as I thought it would be. My copy is currently for sale in my eBay listings and it's the one of five available with a DJ, also the cheapest copy offered for sale online with a DJ. If you are interested in reading this book, there are a handful of affordable unjacketed copies out there in both the US and UK editions. The UK edition, by the way, is titled Mr. Treadgold Cuts In.

FIRST BOOKS: Wheels in the Forest - John Newton Chance

"Cars, Siddons, cars! The place bristles with 'em. A Morris Oxford, an M.G., and two Rolls-Royces. The solution to this problem is in those cars."

 Emblazoned across the DJ front panel of the first edition of Wheels in the Forest (1935) is a laudatory quote from the pseudonymous crime fiction reviewer of The Observer, Torquemada, praising the debut of its author John Newton Chance. Torquemada (aka Edward Powys Mathers) was notoriously scathing in his reviews, nothing else would be expected from someone who chose as his pen name the identity of the cruel torturer of the Spanish Inquisition. To find a positive review from him, let alone a rave, was a rarity and I was tantalized. I came across a copy of Wheels in the Fortune in my book hunting and saw several positive quotes attributed to Torquemada related to Chance's first few mystery novels and I succumbed to the spell of Gollancz's marketing scheme. Could these books really be so good that the toughest detective novel critic of the Golden Age thought them exceptional?  For once the hype proved correct.  Wheels in the Forest is a corker. It delivers the goods on so many levels. And I'm already eager to try more of Chance's books from the 1930s and 1940s.

I'm especially surprised that this first novel turned out so well because the first Chance mystery novel I read (decades ago) was Death Stalks the Cobbled Square (1944), aka The Screaming Fog, which has the distinction of being one of Chance's few known locked room mysteries.  I remember nothing about the book other than that it was one of the few in which the author himself appears as narrator and acts as a character in the story. Nothing really new there -- Willard Huntington Wright was doing that back in the late 1920s as "S. S. Van Dine" in all of the Philo Vance novels. Then sometime in February of this year I read one of Chance's much later books called The Traditional Murders (1983) which based on the title I thought would be a fun retro-homage to the Golden Age. Frankly, it was one of the worst mystery novels I've read in a long time. Utterly forgettable, often stupid, filled with stock characters of the worst stereotypes, and peppered with inane gratuitous sex scenes.  I had to find out what happened to this writer who was so lauded when he first appeared to the world of mystery readers. 

He must've just gotten lazy and money-grubbing easily succumbing to all that publishers felt necessary to sell books because his first novel is nothing like that drecky book from 1983 when Chance was 72 years old. Wheels in the Forest is not only better written, it often feels more like a mainstream novel satirizing village life along the lines of Stella Gibbons' Cold Comfort Farm.  As I got deeper into Chance's first mystery the Golden Age writer I kept thinking of was George Bellairs who at one time I liked, but quickly grew tired of when his books all seemed to be utterly formulaic and repetitive.  Like Bellairs Chance employs an author omniscient point of view and allows the reader to know every single character's thoughts.  Chance does a much better job at this than Bellairs and it is one of the book's best strengths and innovative touches.  Every character introduced gets at least one noteworthy scene that not only fully fleshes out that character but advances the story adding layers of suspicion and motivation to the puzzling murder. A pregnant girl's body is found alongside a road in the village of Isle nestled in the New Forest and surrounded by a circuit of roads that attract motor car enthusiasts eager to test out their driving skills and the speed of their cars.

As the epigraph to this review suggests cars play an important part in the solution of the crime. Similar to Freeman Wills Crofts' fascination with train schedules and timetables Chance is a bit obsessed with speeding cars, their mechanics, and the timing of the many cars that were known to be driving on the roads leading to and from the crime scene. In fact, one character - Dennis Lambert - crashes his car into a streetlamp the very night of the murder. That car wreck adds an intriguing mystery to the puzzling nature of where the murdered girl's body was discovered.

 Our detective team consists of belligerent impatient Superintendent "Smutty" Black, his fathead of a sergeant named Siddons, a crew of lower level coppers, and the delightfully eccentric Evelyn DeHavilland who prefers to go by the simple moniker of D. Black enlists D as his unofficial spy in the village and orders him to get the locals talking and to listen carefully, but to never directly ask any questions about the murder. Black tells D: "You're a stranger, starting at an advantage, because you're not used to them. You might notice something that I wouldn't through being used to it."  But later we learn through Black's personal thoughts that he knows D very well from their years spent in the war together and he thinks D to be a fool:

Fools find out things. You can be off your guard with intel-lectual people because they're so wrapped up in themselves that they don't notice anything outside; but with a fool you risk being off your guard and the fool notices the small faults; proving that a fool is not such a fool as he looks.

That talk of fools is also an indicator that Chance was clearly a fan of slapstick comedy. He shows off his love of farce with several scenes of people falling down or otherwise embarrassing themselves in comic bits and gags. In the person of Evelyn DeHavilland alone, a Wodehouse-like fop who embraces eccentricity for its own sake, the comedy is witty and lighthearted. But when the dramatic moments come they are often as shocking as the intrinsic surprises and twists in any mystery plot.

Because we are privy to everyone's thoughts not just those of Black and D, the primary detectives, there are exceptionally well done dramatic vignettes.  In particular, a scene involving a dim-witted motor car garage worker (who through much of the book seems like a stock in trade village idiot) is heartbreaking.  Bill Jupe, the teen aged brother of the murder victim, breaks down in grief late in the story. In his emotional pleas stated in simple language he asks someone why was his sister killed so brutally, that it was so unfair and that he misses her terribly. It's simply written, direct and powerfully affecting. What makes the scene even more affecting is also the most innovative moment of the novel. That open display of grief in turn drastically affects another character in the novel and the book transforms from a whodunnit to an inverted detective novel. Shortly after that scene with Bill, Chance turns his attention on the murderer's thoughts and allows the culprit to basically confess to the reader!

Wheels in the Forest has turned out to be one of the richest, most surprising, and unexpectedly moving detective novels I've read this year. Copies are hard to come by unfortunately. There were three affordable copies for sale (a mix of first editions and later reprints) a few days ago, but after this post was published they all sold within a few days! There’s one left but it’s priced at an exorbitant amount. Good luck finding any other copies!