No Medals for the Major - Margaret Yorke

Lonely war veteran Major Johnson while doing his best to be neighborly and social finds himself through utter chance implicated in the death of an 11 year-old girl he picked up as a hitchhiker. Two shoplifting delinquent teens apparently hit her with the Major's car that they stole and took for a joy ride. One of the teens dumps the girl's body in the trunk of his car and they leave it outside his home as if it had never been stolen. No Medals for the Major (1974) tells of the suspicions that follow in the aftermath of the accident as the police try to make sense of why and how the girl's body ended up in the trunk of the Major's car.

There are no real mysteries in this crime novel as we learn everything as it happens. We know where Mary went, who she saw prior to the accident. We know the two boys hit her with a car and covered up the accident. We know that the Major was not responsible for the girl's death. Less a detective novel than it is an exploration of the effects of a crime this is a tale of gossip and hearsay, of neighbors who are hardly neighborly. The one bright spot for the Major are the handful of people who bravely stand up for him. They will provide for him the alibi and explanations he desperately needs to clear his name.

But no matter how many people try help the Major -- like Ruth Fellowes who is at first sympathetic to the crushing loneliness the Major lives with then becomes not only defensive of the man but fond of him -- it is clear that the man is doomed to a ruined reputation. He loses his job, he is shunned by nearly everyone in town, and in one disturbing scene is ridiculed by a mob of intrusive busybodies led by a hysterical woman who instigates an attack on the Major's home. It's not a pleasant story even with the presence of kindly Ruth Fellowes (seemingly the only person with common sense), or friendly Cathy Blunt, the Major's neighbor who peeks over a hedge daily to chat and accept vegetables he offers from his garden. Simple sentences like "He looked at the major and was the only person who did not turn away" describing the vicar shaking the Major's hand after church service and acknowledging the shunned man carry such weight and hope for Major Johnson. Yet deep down, as much as we hope for it, we know there will not be a happy ending in this novel. 

Yorke has a deft hand at creating suspense and the manner in which minor details have grave repercussions.  For instance, the Major in telling the police of how he picked up Mary and gave her a lift home talks of the girl in the past tense. This conversation takes place a few days before the body is discovered when the girl has been reported as missing by her parents. Of course anyone would do that talking about an event in the past but his final words -- "She was a nice girl." -- is like a bomb dropped. The cop makes a mental note of that single sentence. It's a subtle touch that might have gone unnoticed had not Yorke made the cop pick up on it. A savvy and perceptive reader will watch out for similar past tense lapses in future dialogue sequences about Mary.

Later, a nosy reporter looking for a scoop and wanting the worst possible outcome for the girl's disappearance tries to engage the Major in a conversation at the local pub. The Major refuses and walks away from the man. The reporter then overhears the barmaid call to the Major by name and he writes down Major Johnson in his notebook. Yorke ends the chapter with this line:  "He did not take kindly to snubs."

While the book is more of a study in how a criminal act affects one character Yorke does not altogether forget the conventions of a detective novel, even though this one belongs to the inverted mystery subgenre. The detective work by Inspector Coward and Sgt. Davis is sound and on occasion rather ingenious.  There is a bit about comparing mud found in the trunk of the Major's car to mud in a field that Mary walked through showing that she was killed miles away from the Major's home and nowhere near where he had driven the day before to and from his job at a tourist attraction. Even Constable Forrest does good work identifying Roger and Tom, the teen thugs who stole a pair of boots at the local market.  Forrest's sharp detective skills enable him to find Tom based solely on a strand of long hair found clinging to Mary's clothes. This is decades before DNA testing and yet the color and length of the hair helps Forrest track down Tom. With skilled questioning he gets the boy to admit his involvement in the accident. This clever highlight makes me want to read more of Yorke's more traditional detective novels.

Ultimately, this is a novel about character and behavior and how crime infects the imaginations of an entire town's population.  Major Johnson may have people who care about him but they number far fewer than those against him. No Medals for the Major is a sad story filled with loneliness, tortured thoughts and unfulfilled longing. When the tragic finale comes no reader can be too surprised by the dire events Yorke describes.

NEGLECTED DETECTIVES: Prof. Peter Ponsonby - Academic, Mystery Novelist, Amateur Sleuth

When last I wrote of Jean Leslie's professor detective, Peter Ponsonby, several years ago (One Cried Murder) he was faced with the apparent suicide of a psychology professor that turned out to be nasty murder.  He also met his soon-to-be wife Mara Mallory who became his Watson of sorts in two other novels, both of which I have now read.  The second outing, Two Faced Murder (1946), with Peter & Mara is a silly story that seems completely influenced by the madcap murder movies that the "Thin Man" series made such easy targets for imitation.  It began sort of okay with the disappearance of an academic's wife who was straying from her husband into the arms and bed of a dashing British literature professor, a  colleague of Peter's. When the two go on a nighttime search for missing wife Jane, tracing her last known locations, Mara literally stumbles over Jane's dead body in a heavily wooded area near a beach. Then, sadly, the nonsense kicks in. Mara insists they bury the body, Peter complies. Then she insists they mark the burial site. Then she says No! They have to uncover the body. Then they go to the police. I threw in the towel when I got to this exchange of dialogue between Sheriff Amos Schroeder and Peter.

"...how was Jane killed?"

"She's been strangled. Her neck is broken."

"So?" Schroeder gave the information his professional attention. "Not the technique I would have expected, but then," he added modestly, "I'm no great shakes at this crime business."

Not exactly a policemen exuding confidence in his own profession. And then he tells Peter and Mara that they are allowed to conduct their own investigation. Encourages them even! He confesses: "I wouldn't get to first base with the college people. I guess my methods are too crude for them." Too bad, Amos!  That's why you're a cop. How ridiculous for a senior police officer to ask a literature teacher and an academic secretary to conduct a murder investigation simply because they know the college milieu better than he does.  I couldn't read anymore. I shut it and moved onto the third volume hoping for something that approached the noirish mood and plot of her last book (The Intimate Journal of Warren Winslow) which does not feature Peter and Mara.

 

Turns out that the third and final adventure with Professor Ponsonby is the best.  And it mixes all of Jean Leslie's strengths in a story that is for once mature and hard-edged.  Most surprisingly, Three Cornered Murder (194) is thoroughly relevant and resonant for 21st century readers with its exploration of corrupt government, corporate greed and self-interest as the guiding principle of regional government officials more interested in lining their own pockets than listening to the concerns of their citizenry.  I was very glad to read a crime novel that smacked of realism instead of screwball illogic.

 

Peter steps into the central role of detective three days prior to his wedding. Mara -- more worried about the impending rehearsal, the guest list, the catering and other wedding plans -- helps only peripherally. And it is largely due to Pete's solo action as amateur sleuth and expert in fistfights that Three Cornered Murder succeeds so well. Leslie still has fun with witty banter, a seemingly innate talent as it highlights all of her crime fiction, but the focus on a group of thoroughly corrupt council members in a unnamed California town that resembles Santa Monica gives the book a necessary gravitas given the level of crime dominating the somewhat complicated plot.

 

Peter is witness to the shooting murder of city council member "Doc" Lawson, a G.P. whose patient list consists solely of his fellow council members. Lawson was shot while crossing a street and there are multiple witnesses besides Peter. When police arrive someone claims that Peter had a gun and he ought to be searched. Police do so and find a recently fired revolved in his coat pocket. Someone is trying to frame Peter for the murder.  

 

Lawson was involved in a shady gambling operation that is a cover for local government graft. He is also named as the pay-off man for the operation making large cash payments to several of the city council members. Joan Toplitz, wife of a former student of Peter's, is an investigative journalist who has written a book on city corruption and knows the whole scheme. She educates Peter and Mara about what's been going on. As Peter delves into this deeply ingrained graft he learns of a series of accidental deaths of the last seven (!) pay-off men. Joan, her husband "Babe" Scott, Mara and Peter begin to formulate a theory that someone they call Mr. X is behind all these accidents. That for some reason known only to Mr. X the pay-off man must be eliminated. Perhaps, they surmise, they are killed to prevent talking about the gambling operation and the bribery payouts. The plot then focuses on the search for a professional criminal who has masterminded the corruption and payoffs as well orchestrating serial murder disguised as accidental deaths.

 

I thought this story was very well done compared to the other two Ponsonby books. Less lighthearted and truly gritty this third entry often lets loose with merciless violence. One murder elicited a gasp from me for its random cruelty -- an intentional hit-and-run accident, brutal, ruthless, sadistic. That the victim is one of the most lively and likable characters among the supporting cast, Looney Wills — a newsboy barely out of his teen years, adds an unexpected level of poignancy amid all the cruelty. This story seemed utterly modern and unsettling in how it echoes our troubled times plagued with rampant mistrust of government officials and the disease of unrestrained avarice.

 

THINGS I LEARNED:  Instead of referring to Tom, Dick and Harry to refer to anonymous people a character refers to John Doe, Joe Average, and Addison Simms.  That third name was new to me. Off I went a-Googling. Addison Sims (with one M, by the way) turned up all over the internet. Of course! The best info came from an Wikipedia article on Ruthrauff & Ryan, an obscure advertising company that flourished in America from 1912 through 1964.  Sims was a fictional character created in an ad campaign for a memory learning service.  I'll quote directly from the article: "Ruthrauff wrote a prominent ad campaign for the Roth Memory Course. The ads featured a businessman greeting another with, ‘Of course--I remember you: Mr. Addison Sims of Seattle.’ The ads convinced American business people that a memory for names was an essential business skill, and ‘Mr. Addison Sims’ entered the vernacular."

 

Mara and Peter make frequent visits to a luxuriously designed drugstore with a soda fountain.  That drugstore and its staff become crucial to the solution of the hit man killings. While cleverly getting Bert, the owner and pharmacist at the drugstore, to talk about what he knows about Lawson and the shooting Mara decides to buy some cosmetics. Bert says, "That'll be $5.75 plus the 20% luxury tax and sales tax."  A 20% luxury tax on make-up?  I had to check on that. Whaddya know! According to a 1951 U.S. Treasurer's Report on Excise Taxes citing the taxes collected as a result of the Revenue Act of 1940 "...fur,  jewelry, toilet preparations, and later luggage, were subjected to taxes at the retail level, eventually reaching a 20% rate." Toilet preparations, which include make-up and cosmetics of all types, were taxed from 10-20% between the years 1939-1943. I spent way too much time reading about how the USA gathered additional revenue (apart from higher income tax) during the pre- and post-WW2 years through numerous excise taxes that were colloquially known by shoppers as the luxury tax. I thrive on these minute details in vintage popular fiction. I learn so much about the past.

 

EASY TO FIND? It's a shame that this last and by far the best of the Prof. Ponsonby detective novels is such a rarity. There were three copies I found for sale and I bought the cheapest several months ago. And now there are zero copies of the book for sale.  A true shame. This book is the one to read if you're interested in the work of Jean Leslie. It's not only relevant and resonant for our time, it's often rather witty and unexpectedly poignant. Of all the books I've read so far (I still have yet to read a non-Ponsonby mystery:  Shoes for My Love (1949) AKA Blood on My Shoe) the last Ponsonby book is the best written, most tightly plotted, has the most fascinating story, and is the most grounded in real believable crime. Perhaps it may see the light of day in a reprint edition.  If only one book by Jean Leslie could be reprinted I would like it to be Three Cornered Murder.

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! 

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! 

 

Notice to Quit - James Quince

THE STORY: William Yolland gets some news from a physician who has given him a mandatory exam for an insurance policy Yolland is hoping will help out his dire financial position. And it's not good news. The doctor informs William that he has a cardiac condition and may experience a fatal heart attack in a matter of months. William now finds it necessary to find alternative method to save his beloved home and estate which will be subject to death taxes that he will not be able to afford. He comes up with a bizarre plan -- switch identities with his look-alike son and give the illusion that he is still alive should he die suddenly. His son John can make sure that finances are in order and the house can be saved even though William Yolland will be gone. But the masquerade comes with several unexpected complications not the least of which is hoping that no one will see through the elaborate scheme.

THE CHARACTERS: Quince spends a lot of time setting up the switcheroo by having several characters mention that William, age 48, and John, age 24, are often mistaken for one another. It's only when William whose hair has gone prematurely white is seen up close that anyone realizes the error.  The disguises seem ridiculously simple: William dyes his hair blond and wears more youthful clothes while John is fitted for an expensive white wig and adds a few crow's feet to his face using theatrical make-up. It's a bit hard to swallow, but I went along for the ride. Luckily, Quince recognizes the outlandishness of the role playing. Though on the surface everyone seems to accept William for his son and son for father not everyone falls for the charade. By the midpoint William Yolland's first person narrative gives way to another first person narrative in the person of Molly Montauben, John's very close friend, who lets us know that she saw through his disguise almost immediately. Later another character catches on to the switch due to John's lack of fluency in Spanish. Thank heaven for these clever and observant characters!

William and John are immensely likable and Quince's witty style of writing in William's voice allows for the reader to further accept the disguises and scheming. On the first day of the switch William in the person of his son attends a tennis party where he meets John's friends and associates from a not-for-proft organization called the Youth Movement which is devoted to social work and health equity 1930s style.  Later, William learns from his son that the Youth Movement is actually a front for a revolutionary political party intent on shaking up the current British parliamentary troubles . John confesses he was roped into a kidnapping plot but never followed though. Now Dad must carry out the plan in a hastily restructured scheme that becomes even more complicated when it overlaps with his past life as diplomat in the fictional South American country called Bochilia (apparently meant to be a stand-in for Argentina).

William lived in Bochilia over twenty years ago where he worked for Pablo Poolo, a dignitary close to the Bochilian President. William got to know Poolo's daughter Amatista, they eventually married, she bore him his son, but died days later from a complicated delivery.  Some of the Bochilian wheelers and dealers have now come to the UK and are target of the Youth Movement plot that John has been involved with. But due to the switch John - now the fake William - finds himself facing people he should know and recognize and being utterly ignorant of his relationship to them. And so the farce begins!

But is it really a farce?  Quince tries to mix a kind of low comedy that dates back to Roman and Elizabethan theater with sophisticated satire pointing out generational differences in the advance of parliamentarian government, post World War One. The farcical elements seem utterly out of place with the almost lofty satire he is trying to insert about international trade laws and the end of the Victorian monarchy, two decades after the queen's death. The contrast made for a schizoid identity in itself for the book as a whole. Despite great character work from the supporting players -- a mix of Bochilian baddies, notably Felix Barzon, aka "the Ferret" who knew William two decades ago, and the Youth Movement idealists especially Estelle, their imposing intellectual leader, and Molly, the second narrator pining for John Yolland (the real one!) from afar -- the constant wavering between political satire and low comedy was a distraction.  Personally, I do not like suspense thrillers that deal with government policies and foreign powers looking to upset global economics. I avoid them as I would hearts-and-flowers romance novels.  Unfortunately, my mind drifted away when the plot focused on the politics.

INNOVATIONS: Surprisingly, I found that this crime novel (for there are indeed aspects of crime, and even detective novel on display) succeeded more when it stuck to the farce. Quince parodies abduction action sequences and sinister villain masterminds so familiar to readers of Edgar Wallace and other thriller writers of the 1920s and 1930s. At times this felt like a "thriller comedy of manners" a la The Secret of Chimneys or The Seven Dials Mystery. Perhaps the biggest surprise in Notice to Quit (1932) is the element of masquerade and role playing because ultimately that is what the novel is really about. As the story resolves its various plot threads and conflicts -- including among other things a dispute over the Falkland Islands to an apparently worthless mine in Bochilia -- Quince turns his attention to contemplation on generational frictions and disparities. Basically, he is always commenting on the timeworn dichotomy of youth vs. age. William regrets his foolishness, his retreat into boyish attractions and indulgences while playing the part of his son.  Some of the writing occasionally reveals pithy insights on this topic:

I cursed Youth and its silly movements and its way of managing the middle-aged by falling back on the appeal to courtesy when its bullying failed.

"Youth is led by fear. Did you know that? All the great leaders have been feared. If love goes with the fear so much more the comfortable for all concerned, but it does not greatly matter. In the eyes of the young there are no half-tints; you must be black or white, right or wrong, feared or despised."

Ultimately, the plot comes full circle with a wonderfully delightful twist in the penultimate chapter.  I found myself marveling at how much Notice to Quit resembles not so much a satirical crime novel as it does a Shakespearean comedy with its fascination with masquerade, the farcical elements arising out of the identity switch, role playing of all types, and the uplifting finale with two weddings. A happy ending indeed arrives despite all the political skulduggery.

THINGS I LEARNED:  The frequent mention of the Falkland Islands and Barzon's interest in purchasing them for Bochilia (hence my thought that it is supposed to be Argentina) led me to look at early 20th century skirmishes and conflicts located in that part of South America. I discovered that it was British military stronghold for decades dating back to the late 19th century. There was also an early battle there during World War 1. Argentina's struggle for sovereignty of the islands is as age-old as the military forts constructed there. 

EASY TO FIND?  This one is a true rarity. I found my copy back in 2014 and I've never seen one since.  Currently there are zero copies offered for sale from the triumvirate of online antiquarian booksellers. I successfully sold my copy -- sorry for no early announcement -- shortly after I finished reading it for this post. Who knows when another will ever turn up again? Your only resort seems to be academic libraries: three copies are in libraries in the UK, one in Dublin, and one in Canada at the University of Alberta. 

NEW STUFF: The Murder at World's End - Ross Montgomery

For the past two years I've seen an intriguing spike in modern writers trying their hand at a retro GAD-style locked room or impossible crime mystery novel.  I've read quite a few of them and mostly they tend to be less than gripping in plot, populated with tiresome formulaic characters, and prosaic in their solutions. Tom Mead, of course, seems to be the heir to John Dickson Carr's fame in mysterydom as master of the locked room mystery. Mead's novels are the exception and never cease to entertain and boggle my mind. Though I have to say I solved most of his last book The House at Devil's Neck, primarily because I read two books back to back that employed a similar masquerade plot device found in Mead's latest book. Now I discover a children's book author who has done his best to outdo the Great Carr and others like him in an often witty and baffling mystery called The Murder at World's End.

Even without the locked room plot element this mystery novel grabbed my attention for the setting and time period alone.  It is May 1910 and Viscount Conrad Stockingham-Welt, an eccentric aristocrat who fancies himself an amateur astronomer (though most of what he claims as his own work he stole from his aunt), has summoned his family to Tithe Hall on the eve of the reappearance of Halley's comet. He is certain that the comet will bring about devastation to Earth. He has ordered everyone to go to their rooms where they will all be sealed in as the comet passes overhead. The entire house is boarded up, all windows and doors are locked and sealed, and all rooms of course are likewise locked and sealed with cotton batting at all doorway bases. Even keyholes are sealed with wax. A perfect set-up for a classic lock room mystery recalling the room locked and sealed with gummed tape in He Wouldn't Kill Patience by John Dickson Carr.

Of course someone is discovered dead in the morning. It will come as no surprise that the murder victim is Lord Stockingham-Welt. The murder weapon seems to be a crossbow bolt. But how was it fired through a locked and sealed door?  (Shades of The Judas Window.) The crossbow usually is held in the gauntleted arms of a suit of armor that stands outside the Viscount's study but now the crossbow is missing.

 

Inspector Jarvis is soon called upon to interrogate the entire household. He sets his sights first on Stephen Pike, the newest addition to Tithe Hall's flock of servants. Stephen reluctantly admits to receiving this job straight out of Borstal where he was sent for committing murder. And so we have the perfect patsy for what appears to be a perfect crime.

Stephen is determined to clear his name.  Luckily, Decima Stockingham, the viscount's aunt, an 80ish invalid who cannot go anywhere without her wheelchair, is eager to clear Stephen's name as well. Together the two, along with the housemaid Temperance, team up to solve the mystery of who killed Lord Conrad.

Montgomery does a rather admirable job of concocting a baffling mystery and even comes up with multiple solutions. He throws in several red herrings, does a good job of leading us down the garden path thinking that one of the servants is very guilty of something if not the murder itself, and then delivers three or four well placed surprises. The biggest shock to me was the second murder victim. Rather a rule breaking bit of business for a traditional mystery novel, though I have encountered it a few time in genuine Golden Age mysteries. Still when this kind of rule breaking event happens it's always a shock.

I was most proud of Montgomery's not resorting to secret passages as an explanation for how the locked And sealed room was accessed. The characters do at one point make a thorough search of the house for such a hoary cliche. but when no such passage is found I was very happy. The final solution though not startlingly original was satisfying and -- most importantly -- fairly clued.  All the hints and references are presented early enough in the story to point the reader to the answer of who killed the viscount and how it was carried out.  If not gasp inducing at least the solution is presented in an entertaining, almost elegant fashion. It is a bit overdone in how Stephen and Decima split the reveal between themselves. Decima, an arrogant egotist, demands that she deliver the solution all on her own, but Stephen interrupts to get his portion of the detective work properly ascribed to himself.

Overall, I was impressed and entertained with this book. The background of Halley's comet and the doomsday mania that affected most of the world is inserted into the story with actual newspaper articles giving the story a valuable sense of verisimilitude. Montgomery plots well, has a savage sense of humor related to the dying British aristocracy, and the contrast between a very youthful servant and the aged woman he cares for is a welcome show of generational mixing that reveals both mutual respect and mutual loathing. Very real and often very funny. Should there be a sequel in the adventures of Decima Stockingham and Stephen Pike I would definitely read that book.

The Seven Who Waited - August Derleth

THE STORY:  In this seventh Judge Peck detective novel August Derleth once again revisits his favorite plot motif - the family decimation murder scheme.  Former pharmacy magnate Josiah Sloan, in the last stages of a terminal illness, has summoned his relatives all of whom will inherit even shares from his vast estate located outside of Baraboo, Wisconsin. The heirs are all eager for the man to drop dead and as they wait for him to draw his last breath someone has decided to eliminate the competition, so to speak. Soon all the heirs are the target of a ruthless killer who clearly wants the $250,000 estate in its entirety. Judge Ephraim Peck is summoned to the Sloan estate along with D.A. Meyer and local coroner Dr. Enderby to help prevent a complete slaughter of the heirs.

CHARACTERS: The Seven Who Waited (1943) is populated with a coarse group of very unlikable suspects.  Not one of them is described in any way that would elicit sympathy from the reader. The first victim, Phineas Canler, is described as a piggish glutton who eats voraciously at the dinner table, belches loudly, slurps and guzzles his alcohol, and of course is immensely overweight.  Thankfully he dies within the first two chapters so we are spared further belching and slurping.  But no one among the six remaining heirs really has any redeemable qualities. There is a seemingly prissy spinster who secretly reads salacious sex stories in trashy pulp magazines and hypercritically criticizes her relatives for being hedonists, her ineffectual lazy son who barely appears in the novel, a haughty young woman who sneers at all the men, her portly 50ish brother whose only interest is making money in the stock market; a vain middle-aged man with a glass eye and a toupee who dresses like a dandy and flirts with all the women as if he were still a handsome stud in his 20s, and Carson Kerby, a professional gambler who may have the most to hide among all these six people.  Kerby was my pick for the killer due to all his furtive wanderings around the Wisconsin estate and his evasive manner of answering Peck's questions. Lorin Fenner, Peck's companion and secretary who acts as narrator, finds Kerby to be the most likeable of the relatives despite his shady "profession." That I assume is supposed to get us to also like Kerby and though he does come off as  charming at times, honestly I didn't care about any of them. When they died or were attacked it all seemed like just deserts.

For me the most interesting characters were Hester Clohr, a domineering housekeeper/cook who suffers no fools and Alexander Carswell, the often drunken gardener who can quote Lewis Carroll doggerel from memory. The notes in poetry form seem to indicate that Carswell may have something to do with the crimes. He also has a habit of lurking around the grounds late at night. Hester is also considered a suspect as she is highly protective of and devoted to Josiah Sloan and disdains all of the guests she is forced to feed and house while also caring for her dying employer.

UK edition showing a victim struck by
an arrow. Never happens. The arrow hits
no one & has a poetic note attached.

INNOVATIONS: About the only innovative aspect of the book is that the murderer is something of a failure. Of the several crimes committed only two murders succeed and three others are botched attempts that are thwarted by our detective heroes.  Prior to each crime the murderer leaves a weird p note on the bedroom door of the intended victim.  Each note parodies poetry and seems informed of the rhyme that inspired the vengeful killer in Christie's And Then There Were None (1939). One of the notes begins like this: "Seven little men sat waiting in the parlor/One was doctored and that left six..." Each notes ends with a final line warning how many days are left until the next death: "Three days are allowed."

The detective work is a combination of dogged interrogation and Derleth's usual rigid logic that often discounts tacit aspects of murder investigations like deceit and lying or coincidence. For instance, Judge Peck insists that the killer must have knowledge of medicine because one of the murder means involves taking a lethal poison in powder form and switching it out with a sleeping aid in powder form that is prescribed in capsules. The judge thinks that there isn't anyone on the planet with who might also simply have patience and manual dexterity to open a capsule, remove the safe drug and replace it with the poison. I was rolling my eyes. That's precisely how the Tylenol Killer of the 1980s performed his random slaughtering. He was neither a doctor nor a pharmacist.

THINGS I LEARNED:  In Chapter 8 Lorin hear the strains of "After Sundown" and I was curious what it sounded like.  I found multiple versions online because it was a Bing Crosby record! He first sang it in the movie Going Hollywood (1933), his screen debut thanks to his co-star Marion Davies who demanded he play the role of the radio singer she falls in love with. Both the film and the record helped launch Crosby's movie & recording career taking him away from his original profession as a radio crooner.

"Another defi" remarks Josiah Sloan when another weird poem is found slipped under the door of one of the heirs.  Because the word was not italicized I had a heck of a time finding out the context and meaning as it applies to this story.  I kept getting irrelevant results about "defi" being slang for definite and other 21st century lexicon nonsense.  If the word had been set in italic font like this défi then I would have learned the correct meaning instantly.  Because of course it's a French word!  Sloan meant that the note in poem form was another dare or another challenge.

At a key moment Meyer, the local D.A., threatens Sloan with a John Doe hearing because Sloan will not reveal the identity of an eighth heir who has been referred to as X for the majority of the novel.  This threat refers to a peculiar Wisconsin law. As stated on a Wisconsin lawyer's website the John Doe Hearing "will allow a judge to determine whether it appears probable from testimony given that a crime has been committed and whether to file a complaint."  In this case, Meyer and Judge Peck are using the statue to compel testimony from Sloan, a reluctant witness.  I think Derleth made similar use of several other Wisconsin laws throughout the series. This was the first one that was not made clear in the story's context and I needed to fully understand it by doing internet research. 

August Derleth (1909-1971)

EASY TO FIND?  Not too scarce for a change.  This title which comes late in the Judge Peck series of detective novels is currently easy to get a hold of.  Though there are no paperback reprints from the era nor any modern reissues The Seven Who Waited is offered online in both US and UK editions, thought there is only one copy of the latter which is indeed extremely uncommon. Prices are less than $100 for most of them and all come with the intriguingly illustrated DJ. Happy hunting! 

Death Took a Publisher - Norman Forrest (Nigel Morland)

THE STORY:  Inspector Jack Grief and John Finnegan, a forensic chemist, join forces to solve two baffling poisoning murders that seem impossible. In the first case the detectives cannot figure out how the poison was administered in a time span of less than five minutes when no food or drink were in the room and the victim showed no signs of a hypodermic needle being used. In the second the victim is found in a locked room with a fireplace blazing and a unlatched window leading to a precarious ledge that no one would dare use as an escape.

THE CHARACTERS:  Death Took a Publisher (1936) is the first of two books Nigel Morland wrote using his Norman Forrest pseudonym.  In it we meet Grief, a typical British policeman of the Golden Age, who is grounded in reality and will have nothing to do with so-called impossible murders.  "I hate mysteries!" he exclaims in exasperation at the midpoint of the book. He prefers solid police work though he delegates much of it to his platoon of constables and sergeants. Grief is not above some unorthodox breaking and entering to follow-up on leads.  Twice he basically commits burglary in order to go through the apartments of two suspects and faces grave consequences when he realizes he will somehow have to justify his breaking the law. 

John Finnegan is the super-genius of the novel. Formerly employed in the United States by the Justice Department he is handpicked by the Home Office in England to head up the newly created Department of Forensic Chemistry in London. Here he spends much of his time poring over fingerprints both legitimate and forged (more on that later) via his high powered microscopes and conducts experiments using other other technical wizardry. He also performs some elaborate detective work in discovering the bizarre murder means that killed Willoughby Royle, an ostensibly well liked publisher at Royle & Gray, Ltd. The method of killing is the book's most ingenious and -- to borrow Grief's adjective-- diabolical aspect of the story.

The suspects, especially the women, are an eccentric group.  There is Rebecca Finck, Royle's secretary who seems to spend much of her time covering up and inventing stories about what happened in the office when Royle was killed.  Also among the publishing employees is the elderly spinster Miss Thyme who is primarily a reader and copy editor of sorts. She determines whether or not most manuscripts are worthy of the publishing house or if they contain problems that need to be addressed prior to being sent to the printer. Grief discovers she is a secret devourer of erotica and risque literature and belittles her in his mind.  He treats her less than kindly and as a consequence seriously underestimates her. Miss Thyme will prove to be the only person to solve the crime because of her job as the firm's reader.

Sybelline Higgins is a caricature of a romance novelist who reminded me of Salome Otterbourne, the vociferous and opinionated novelist in Death on the Nile.  Miss Higgins first draws Grief's attention when she is astonished not that Royle was murdered but that he was poisoned with hydrocyanic acid. Each time the poison is mentioned Miss Higgins has an overly theatrical reaction. Grief mulls this over and comes up with a surprising theory that ultimately leads him to rummaging around in the novelist's home while she is conveniently not at home.

There are a handful of other employees at the firm but apart from the second victim and Mr. Brew, a satirical character who exists only for Morland to ridicule "anarchists" and "budding Communists", they all seem to be cut from the same drab cloth. I was proven right when they all, for the most part, turned out to be bogey characters.

INNOVATIONS:  The real interest of the novel is in the police work and the technical aspects of Finnegan's crime solving. Morland was a proponent of realism in crime fiction. When he tackles the science of criminology (a great interest of his) the book rises above its pulpy origins. Much of the crime solving is focused on fingerprints allowing Finnegan to lecture frequently about his mentors and textbooks he has read on the topic.

Death Took a Publisher is often poking fun at professional writers and the entire business of publishing.  It's as much a story of those two worlds as it is a near send-up of detective fiction. Ultimately, all the allusions to detective fiction and specific writers (there are many) lead to the novel being a rather involved meta-fictional mystery novel. A minor character, Sheraton Andrews, is a reclusive mystery writer and he seems to have gone missing. Also missing is the manuscript of his latest book A Half Bucket of Blood. This all seems almost thrown in as an afterthought until Grief, during one of his burglaries, locates the manuscript and hands it over to Gavin Gray, co-owner of the publishing house. Gray then gives the manuscript to Miss Thyme to review for any issues prior to sending it to the printer. Suddenly, Andrews and his book become the focus of the novel. The denouement is as meta-fictional as any similar mystery novel I've ever read.  It may not be the first time this gimmick was employed, but Morland certainly gets his money's worth in the final chapter. 

THINGS I LEARNED: When Grief enters the home of the second victim he is impressed with the tasteful furnishings and the decor focused on racehorse art. He notices a print of "The Worst View in Europe" and a portrait of a horse called Plenipotentiary. Of course I had to have my curiosity satisfied so off I went a-Googling.  The painting is by Charles Johnson Payne (aka "Snaffles") and depicts a rider falling disastrously in a steeplechase or in a failed attempt to jump a stonewall while fox hunting. Payne also did a painting called "The Finest View in Europe" as a companion piece which is a POV painting of a rider on horseback.

The horse is also real and during its time was better know as "Plenipo". The Thoroughbred won six out of seven races during its year-long career from April 1834-April 1835.

"Fingerprints Can Be Forged" (1924) is a monograph by Albert Wehde and John Nicholas Beffel.  Their work is cited by John Finnegan when he encounters an elaborate frame-up involving obviously faked prints that are meant to implicate an author in the murders. I found more on Beffel, a leftist journalist who specialized in writing about radical political ideas, especially promoting labor organizations and criticism of lynchings, than I did on Wehde. This 134 page treatise was reviewed in 1927 by Edmond Locard, Director of the Laboratory of Police Technique in Lyons. Locard, like Finnegan, also mentions in passing the work of Minovici of Bucharest who wrote about the possibility of forging fingerprints in his Manual of Forensic Medicine (1904). 

QUOTES:  Miss Higgins; "Mr. Royle was not a gentleman -- he was publisher. Therefore we cannot attribute to him the qualities reserved for ordinary mortals."

Finnegan: "...I'm not a Sherlock Holmes, and I can't tell if the man wore a pink hat and had an epileptic sister in Tooting!"

He picked up the latest Sayers, then put it down with a sour look on his face when he felt the weight of it. Van Dine came in for a minute's consideration, and Gardner was equally treated. Finally he picked up the new Freeman and paid...his seven-and-sixpence.

Finnegan: "I like a detective story to be a detective story. When they try to write novels at the same time I've no patience for 'em."

Dan Lewis, Grief's superior: "I don't think I've ever come across a case like this. It's a detective novel, down to the ground--all the trimmings: red herrings, the senseless and complicated method of killing you would expect to find in a seven-and sixpence thriller..."

EASY TO FIND?  Rather scarce as usual, my friends. Both US and UK editions come in at least two types -- hardcover and paperback. However, both the US and UK paperback editions may be abridged. If you speak and read French, the cheapest copies out there are int hat language. All copies I turned up seem fairly priced.  Happy hunting!

NEW STUFF: Murder at Gulls Nest - Jess Kidd

I will always read anything published by Jess Kidd, one of the most imaginative Irish writers of the past 20 years. I first heard of her through the dozens of rave reviews for her unique genre blending debut Himself (2016), a mix of crime novel and ghost story. But the first book I read of hers was Mr Flood's Last Resort (2017) -- original UK title The Hoarder -- an unconventional mystery novel which also coincidentally has some ghosts in it. She has written all sorts of novels, including a book geared for young readers, all of which tend to feature some element of a traditional mystery novel though none of them were true detective novels until she wrote Things in Jars (2019), a wild, dizzying imaginative mystery thriller with a real detective that blends bizarre murders with supernatural creatures and Irish mythology. She followed that third novel with an unusual historical adventure and coming of age novel, The Night Ship (2022), based on the actual shipwreck of a Dutch sailing vessel in the 17th century. Now she has turned her hand to a full fledged, retro Golden Age mystery completely embracing the traditional detective novel.

As much as I wished that she would have created a series character with Bridie Devine, her Victorian era woman detective from Things in Jars, we are now promised a series character in the person of Nora Breen, the protagonist of Murder at Gulls Nest.  Nora is a former nun who has recently left her cloistered existence in the Carmelite monastery of High Dallow and traveled to Kent to the resort town of Gore-on-Sea which sounds suspiciously like a real city in West Sussex that I know is the home of one of my favorite rare bookselling entities (World of Rare Books in Goring-by-Sea). Here she sets up in the boarding house of the title hoping to learn what happened to another nun from her monastery who also left the order after getting ill and needing to recuperate in the outside world. Frieda Borgan, the young nun Nora befriended, promised to write to Nora regularly. When those news-filled letters suddenly stopped in August Nora decided to find out what happened to Frieda that would prevent her from writing.  A prologue pretty much hints at her fate alerting us to expect an unhappy outcome for Frieda.

Nora starts her inquiry on the sly. She comes across as a busybody yet oddly manages to gather quite a bit of information. Within days one of the boarders dies unexpectedly and everyone assumes the person committed suicide. Nora and the another boarder think otherwise.

This is a well done traditional mystery novel, following too closely perhaps to formula, but not without Kidd's requisite offbeat humor and touches of the bizarre. Among the oddball characters are an elderly puppeteer who specializes in Punch and Judy performances, a stern housekeeper/cook who serves up unpalatable meals and runs the boarding house like a jail with rigid rules, a strange 10 year-old girl who refuses to speak and dresses like a miniature Miss Haversham, and the local reverend who lives next door and cultivates a huge brood of rabbits - his only friends - as he tends to dislike most people. Reverend Audley (an allusion to Braddon?) was maybe my favorite of the supporting characters. Another unusual character is Hosmer, the artsy photographer Nora meets in town, who both offers her info on a boarder who fled Gulls Nest immediately after the supposed suicide and also takes her portrait in a quirky scene involving jazz music and Nora's shedding her inhibitions in a literal dance of freedom. Also worth nothing as typical Kiddian quirkiness are the scenes with Nora feeding a seagull she names after a priest. The bird regularly visits her on the ledge outside her bedroom window, she mulls over the case, and discusses her ideas with the gull as the bird swallows chunks of herring Nora has bought for the bird to snack on.

Ultimately the characters and their relationships make Murder at Gulls Nest an enjoyable read and distract from endless Q&A sequences that otherwise might have proved tiresome. Inspector Rideout, the primary policeman of the book, has an intriguing relationship with Nora -- at first adversarial, then giving way to mutual admiration, and finally budding friendship. At one point Rideout says to Nora:

"The war hasn't helped. It has blown us apart in so many ways; the old rituals, the old beliefs no longer hold. We want death, like life, to have a reason. [...] Sometimes we have to accept that when it comes to matters of life and death, we can't know everything and never will."

I think this is what Kidd was attempting to accomplish with this homage to the traditional mystery.  She has succinctly and simply summed up the post-WW2 mindset. How war has permanently changed all preconceived notions of modern life and all human interaction.  Perhaps there will be no real tidy ending that will explain all the death and misery churned up at Gulls Nest.

Kidd knows the genre well and has already proven she is a wiz at dreaming up complex and fairly clued plots.  however, in this outing as formulaic as it is and not so cleverly clued I was able to figure many of the twists dozens of chapters before Nora had any idea what was going on.  I think most readers well read in mystery fiction will be able to figure out some secrets early on and see through some of the misdirection.  I was hoping for a finale in which Dinah, the mute child, would suddenly regain her speech and become the real detective of the piece by pointing out everything she had overheard while hiding behind curtains and in the sideboard of the dining room. Alas! no such denouement occurs. The finale is indeed rather melodramatic and Dinah does play a part in the unmasking of the rather obvious villain.

I look forward to Nora's next adventure in which she will solve a series of "supernatural murders" associated with a seance that goes terribly wrong. There is a medium and a seance in Murder at Gulls Nest, but whether the medium Miss Elspeth Dence (very reminiscent of the kooky Madame Arcati in Blithe Spirit) will also appear in the next book I will not know until I can read it. Book two of the Nora Breen investigations entitled Murder at the Spirit Lounge is due out in June 2026. 

Put Out that Star - Harry Carmichael

THE STORY: Movie actress Madeleine Grey leaves the set of her film in progress up in Scotland to travel to London where she plans to meet with her insurance agent John Piper. Shortly before the meeting she appears to have vanished from the hotel. No one saw her leave: not Quinn, Piper's reporter friend waiting in the lobby; not the receptionist; not even the elevator operator. Where did she go? And how did she get out unseen? This apparent impossible mystery is soon complicated by two deaths, one a questionable accident and the other a definite murder.

THE CHARACTERS: Put Out That Star (1957) first attracted my attention because it was listed in Adey's Locked Room Murders as being an impossible mystery.  But the ostensible mystery surrounding Madeleine's disappearance is easily figured out.  Not just because there were multiple ways to leave the hotel (an emergency exit door leading to a fire escape, and a stairwell that leads to the ground floor right near the brasserie and cocktail bar) but because of the rather obvious way anyone can leave unnoticed. And I figured that part out instantly. But the story is a gripping one for the way Piper approaches the problem, for the intriguing friendship between Quinn, the nosy and often intrusive reporter who is friends with Piper, and the way Carmichael handles the supporting players who all seem to be acting a little too suspiciously or too indifferently regarding the disappearance of a celebrity guest in the hotel.

The oddest of the suspects is Sydney Noble, the hotel assistant manager who first treats Madeleine's disappearance aloofly.  She'll turn up, he says repeatedly to Piper. But when days pass with no sign of the actress he gets nervous and worries about the hotel's reputation being damaged. That's on the surface. In reality he's more worried about himself and his job. He manages to convince Piper to turn private agent to try and locate the movie star before the press gets hold of the news and before he may be forced to call the police. Piper reluctantly agrees more because he wants his own curiosity satisfied.

Piper also interviews Mrs. Airey. the hotel housekeeper for the third floor where Madeleine was staying, and learns about the flawed fire escape door that cannot be properly closed from the inside of the hotel. He also deals with Benny Seagar, talent agent, who has a couple of secrets he'd rather be left buried. But Piper digs them up all the same. Then there's Roy Mitchell, Madeleine's husband and the scriptwriter on her film. When his wife does not call him at 9 pm as they agreed he calls the hotel and learns that his wife is not there. He insists on driving down to the hotel and plans to do so in a single night.

INNOVATIONS: It's a shame the impossibility of sorts is so unimaginative. With the introduction of a single character at the story's midpoint it's fairly simple to solve the problem of how Madeleine left the hotel. Much of the mystery involves the recurring discussion of Madeleine and her fur coat which made her distinctively noticeable for anyone who a wasn't a film buff and could recognize her by her face. The fur coat is missing from her hotel room, though all of her luggage and clothing was left behind. Some bloodstains on one of her suitcases and the used washcloth in the bathroom are two major clues that bother Piper for the entirety of the story. They are also clues to figuring out what happened to Madeleine.

Carmichael has a neat way in rendering cinematic action sequences. The story opens on February 27 and play outs over the following three days. The winter season plays a major part in the story and a severe winter gale acts as a menacing minor character endangering Piper's life as he pursues a lead involving a missing movie magazine. The outdoor sequences are handled sinisterly with the threatening weather conditions becoming almost a persona of villainy itself. These lent a noirish feel to the novel.

THE AUTHOR: "Harry Carmichael" was a pseudonym used by Leopold Ognall (1908-1979) who was born in Montreal then emigrated with his family to Scotland. In his early adulthood Ognall moved to Leeds where he married in 1932 and remained there for the rest of his life. He worked as a goods manager, a warehouse employee and was an ARP warden during the war years. He began his writing career as a journalist for a Scottish newspaper and apparently later gave up it to become a full time novelist. He wrote at least 84 novels using two different pseudonyms. As "Harry Carmichael" his mystery novels feature either John Piper or Quinn or both and follow the dictates of traditional whodunit style mysteries while as "Hartley Howard" he created Glenn Bowman, a private eye, and Philip Scott, a British Intelligence agent.

EASY TO FIND? There are a handful of the paperback reprint (Fontana Books #286, 1959) editions offered for sale from online booksellers. The UK 1st edition is rather scarce and I turned up only one copy with the equally scarce DJ from a well known vintage crime fiction seller on eBay. Five copies of the US edition retitled Into thin Air (Doubleday/Crime Club, 1958) are available for purchase, all with the DJ.