LEFT INSIDE: Ancient Sherlockiana & German Post Card

These bits of ephemera are rather remarkable for both being well over 100 years old. Both post card and newspaper story were Left Inside my extremely scarce copy of The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes (Harper & Brothers, 1894. Revised 2nd edition).  I have to brag a little about this book because my partner Joe found it at a book sale in Libertyville, Illinois many moons ago. I paid one buck for the book! I was astounded that no one had snagged it prior to us showing up. Vaguely I recall it was the last day of the sale. The book is in beautiful condition for a 19th century book with the only problems being a minor stain on the spine of the book, an offset stain on the prelims from the acidic newsprint reacting to the paper in the book, and some discoloration to the illustrated front board (photo at left). Definitely one of the treasures in the Norris Collection of Detective Fiction Rarities. Probably will never sell it until I contact an auction house about five years into the future, a plan I have been devising for a while now.

Onto the items. First is a German postcard.

 Translation of the caption on the front is "Official Post Card from the International Exhibition of Culinary Arts for the Hotel and Hospitality Trades/combined with a wine market in Frankfurt-Main." The caption is followed by the dates of the exhibition: "Sept. 30 through Oct 11, 1905." Unusual that even in the early 20th century German typesetters were still using the odd F-like letter to indicate the letter S, but in a word that ends in S the typesetter would use an actual S character. I thought that F-like letter was out of use by 1905. American typesetters used that F shape  for an S in 18th century typesetting in the USA, but it fell out of favor by the middle of the 19th century.

The postcard was mailed from the exhibition which had its own post office as can be seen on the postmark on the stamp.  Another postmark obliterates a portion of the lightly penciled message and is dated Oct 8, 1905, the date It was received by the post office in Barmen, a town in Wuppertal about 140 miles northwest of Frankfurt. I can make out the message as With hearty greetings ("aus [?] grüsst herzlich.") but I have no idea what the signature says.  The card is addressed to a man named Paul Kraft (maybe Kraus?) who lived in Barmen. But I can't read the street or whatever is on the last line of the address area that ends with the number 18. Also, it looks as if the writer wrote 19 first then corrected it to 18. 

The second bit of ephemera is a short story written by Frank Marshall White which first appeared in Life, Oct 18, 1894. Later it was picked up by syndicated news services and appeared in The Brooklyn Eagle in Oct 24, 1894. The reverse side of the first half of the story luckily shows a portion of the left hand side of the front page. Based on what I found from online resources, the newspaper is definitely an issue of The Brooklyn Eagle in the year 1894 (vol. 54).  Whether it is the actual October issue I didn't bother to further research. Both the layout of the front page of a November 1894 issue and the fonts of their masthead match exactly. This story was one of the earliest Sherlock Holmes parodies, probably also one of the shortest. You can find the full text of "The Recrudescence of Sherlock Holmes" online at the Arthur Conan Doyle Encyclopedia.  My newspaper copy has a portion of some lines missing due to a fold that eventually broke in half. The poorly trimmed edge of the second half cuts off the final two sentences: "This contemptible trick I can never forgive. Sherlock Holmes is again dead to me. — Life."

Giveaway Results Are In

The results of the Cecil M. Wills book giveaway are in.  After a highly scientific method that I left to one of the many Random Number Generators on the internet a winner was selected at random by a machine.  How fitting for our new age of omnipresent AI and robots.

And now for the Lucky Stiff...uh, lucky winner --

Comment #5 assigned to jdf21 was selected.  Congrats to jdf21!  You are the winner of one copy of the Ramble House reprint of Author in Distress.

Got the address. Thanks, JDF!  Book is in the mail. 

 Thanks to those who participated and for the mentions of all your favorite detective novels and mystery books you thought deserved a reprint. Perhaps one or two may soon see the light of day!

 

LEFT INSIDE: "Thank you for arranging the Madrigal Singers..."

On rare occasions  I find a letter still in its envelope inside a book. This one dated January 29, 1976 and mailed on Jan 30 of that year was Left Inside my rare copy of Call Mr. Fortune (Dutton, 1921) by H. C. Bailey. I uncovered a wealth of information about the letter's writer, her husband and the photographer who took the photo on the stationery.

First, the photographer.  Sally Savage has had her work shown in galleries and museums in her native Nyack, NY.  She specialized in "documenting just about every aspect of life and change in [Rockland] county since the late 1960s" according to the New York Heritage website of the Nyack Library.  Her photo entitled "reeds on Piermont pier" was apparently sold in a set of stationery that Ruth Brawner bought sometime in the 1970s. A large collection of Savage's photographs is in the New York Heritage Digital Collections held in the Nyack Library. 

The letter itself is a quaint "thank you" written by Ruth Brawner to Mrs. Paul (Charlotte) Bardwell. I'm not including a photo of the envelope because of the street address on the return address label and the street address of Mrs. Bardwell.

  

 

For those of you who cannot decipher American cursive handwriting the letter reads:

Dear Charalate [sic], 

  Thank you for arranging the Madrigal Singers to take part in our BiCentennial [sic] dinner.

  Everyone without exception has said how much they enjoyed the singing and the fine menu.

Gratefully,
Ruth & Howard

 

I'm curious what the Bardwells were doing in southeastern New York in January 1976.  According to online obituaries for both people they lived in Texas most of their lives.  Regardless, the more interesting people are the Brawners.  For decades they were actively involved in civic life of Piermont, NY where they were lifelong residents. Ruth Brawner was a big time organizer involved in all sorts of events in her hometown and was known for "sharing her wealth of knowledge pertaining to the history of Piermont, which included her vast collection of photographs."  Howard served in the US Navy as a radio technician, was a member of the local Rotary, a village trustee, and for 66 years was part of the volunteer fire department known as Empire Hose Company #1. He was also president of the volunteer ambulance team for the fire department.  Ruth and Howard were named Outstanding Citizens of Piermont one year after this letter was written. Their photograph was published in a local newsletter in the summer of 1977.  That photo is at the right.

 

Cecil M. Wills New Reprint on Sale & Giveaway!

A couple of years ago I bought a small pile of rare hardcover editions of Cecil M. Wills mystery novels.  These included Author in Distress (his debut as a mystery writer), The Chamois Murder and Death Treads.  I read all of them in quick succession, but only reviewed Author in Distress (1934) on the blog.  Shortly after I posted that review I sent a PDF of the entire book to Gavin O'Keefe as a suggestion for a Ramble House reprint. RH has already reprinted Fatal Accident (1936), Wills' sixth detective novel, and I thought it would be a good idea to have another in their catalog. Gavin liked the idea and asked if I wanted to write a foreword.  I agreed and then promptly dropped the ball. Sad forgetful ol' codger that I am.

Flash forward to March-April 2026.  I emailed Gavin again asking if he still wanted to go ahead with the reprint and I had an intro I could offer based on the blog post I wrote.  We emailed back and forth with interesting ideas about how to assemble and present the book.  And now two and a half months later the finished product is available for sale!  You can purchase the book either by visiting the Ramble House site or accessing their small list of titles at Lulu.com (the book printer for this POD reprint). There may be a slight discount if you buy a copy via Ramble House and use the special email address on the page for Author in Distress. 

I received two copies as a standard benefit and today I'm offering one of those books in a giveaway.  Just leave a comment below mentioning any book you think deserves reprinting.  I'll offer those ideas to the "Powers That Be" at Ramble House. That reprint house which offers POD books is now under new management since Gavin and Fender Tucker (the original founder) have stepped aside from the operation.

CONTEST CLOSED

Next week --around Wednesday or Thursday-- I'll choose one of the comments at random to receive the book. You'll have to send me your physical mailing address in order to get the book. But please! DO NOT leave your address in the comments.  The sinister webcrawlers regularly haunt this blog and I'm afraid they will swallow up your personal information and slam you with unwanted spam and who knows what else. We can arrange a private email exchange to get the necessary info.  This giveaway is open to everyone across the globe.  I will pay either Media Mail rate for within the US or First Class International shipping rate to anywhere outside the USA. Good luck!

LEFT INSIDE: Sales Slip for Used Book

For those among you who were with me from the start of this blog back in 2011 you may recall I had a somewhat regular feature (at one time weekly) in which I share photos of objects, mostly paper ephemera, found in the old books I own. Well, this summer that feature has returned. Huzzah, hurrah and hallelujah! Each Sunday, for the next three or so months, I'll have some little tidbit to share with you. After finding one of these items my insatiably curious geeky side usually takes over so you will also get the results of my research when I went a-Googling to ferret additional info about the object.

Today we have a sales slip for a used book purchased at a antique shop formerly located in Montpelier, Virginia. (I thought the name of the capital of Vermont was unique to that state alone.)  The Lamp Post was apparently some sort of curio shop that was in someone's actual home. I've marked out the address and phone numbers in the stamped info because it is now a private home sold back in 2018. I found all sorts of real estate records for that property indicating its previous life over that past 26 years. Not only was it The Lamp Post but in 2002 the house itself was listed with the National Historic Registry as it is a home built in 1936 and included in the Montpelier Historic District along US 33, aka Mountain Road.

This sales slip was in my copy of Three Dead Men by Paul McGuiire.  I read and reviewed the book back in 2018 and sold it last year.  I wish I had paid the $2.00 that the previous owner paid for the book in 2000.  The profit would have been significantly higher had I only shelled out a mere two bucks. It's astonishing that someone was selling a vintage mystery in 2000 for only $2 which was the original price of the book back in 1931. Insane! But judging by the shaky handwriting I'm guessing the owner of The Lamp Post was an elderly person stuck in the past with no idea how to price antiquarian and rare books.

Interestingly, there is still an antique shop a mere stone's throw from the former location of the old The Lamp Post.  It's called Plum Pickings and appears to be an antique mall with 40+ vendors. Looks like a cafe is attached to it also. Their Facebook page (older owners I'm guessing) was advertising a Big Breakfast event today (June 7), part of the thousands of celebrations across the USA this summer in honor of the 250th anniversary of American Independence.  They also say they are the #1 rated antique shop in the Richmond area.

 

Feedback - Hugh Miller

THE STORY: Matt Galt, Scottish ex-pat and private detective with a middling business, lives and works in Stratford primarily because he is an aficionado of the Bard. At the start of this novel he is hired by antiques dealer Timothy Barton to discover who has been sneaking rats into his shop.  Galt spends the night in the shop, has a frightening encounter with the vandal and a small army of rats. The next day he delivers the news to Barton. Barton is not satisfied. He tells Galt he knows who is responsible but he needs better proof and that means literally catching the culprit. The case leads Galt into the gay subculture where he meets  a coterie of theater people, antique dealers and two shifty owners of a gay S&M leather shop.  His dogged investigations also lead to the discovery of an ugly white supremacist organization that is harassing immigrants. 

THE CHARACTERS: Galt is described as "43 years old going on 50" on the first page of Feedback (1974).  He also has "delicate long hands of an aesthete and the sallow lined face of a ruined saint." We learn Galt is a "sartorial disaster" who once paid close attention to his grooming and his clothes but "abdicated" his enthusiasm when he "came to realize that he had the kind of body to which good clothes did not take kindly."  Miller's sardonic sense of humor is pervasive as his insistence on pointing out Galt's anti-gay sentiments. Well, loathing is the real word. He uses "abomination" a couple of times in the three page rant that comes early in the book. But Galt will soon find himself confronting all his bigotry and biases when he is forced to role play in order to get information from the many gay men he meets.  Nearly all the gay men he meets are either crooks or con men. They are predatory, vain, arrogant or  patronizing -- most are a combination of several of those negative traits. No surprise, right?

Galt's old pal Bunny McQuaid is a highlight among the supporting characters and appears late in the book. Only 30 years old, blond, athletically built and much more attractive than dumpy and short Matt Galt, Bunny takes advantage of his physique and good looks in luring several of the more dangerous suspects. A scene between the sinister owners of the leather shop morphs from a faux seduction scene to an all-out brawl. There are a few action sequences in the book but this one is probably the best with the most satisfying conclusion.

Being a pop fiction book of the 1970s there of course is the requisite sex scene. Galt runs into his old flame Margaret who though married still has feelings for Galt.  The reader gets to see exactly how strong those feelings are in a two page romp that goes into great detail describing Margaret's body, her orgasm and her apparent ecstasy.  Galt's body, actions and sexual satisfaction are not described at all. No surprise there either.  These type of censored sex scenes written by straight men always made me laugh when I was a teen in the 1970s.  I still find them utterly hilarious.

The most surprising part of the book comes at the midpoint when Kadija, a 12 year-old Indian girl, is seen sitting outside of Galt's office. She reports how her father was struck down by a car and is recovering from severe injuries in a hospital. She wants Galt to get the man who drove the car arrested and put in jail.  Not so easy, he tells her. It's really a matter for the police. But her story touches him and when she pulls a wad of money out of her pocket (all of her savings for the past three months) he refuses to take it.  He promises he will take her case for free.

Galt eventually meets with Maldur Singh, a Sikh who is the community leader for the small group of Indians living in and around Stratford.  The community has been harassed for months and part of the problem is a rat infestation in their homes and businesses.  Singh cannot understand where so many came form because he knows that the people who live there are meticulously cleaning all the time.  Galt begins to see a connection between the racist organization and the rat problem at Barton's antique shop.  The same person, he figures, must be involved, possibly linked to the organization. It all smells like a conspiracy with the racists behind it all and the end result the complete eradication of the Indian immigrants.

INNOVATIONS: One of Galt's biggest clues is a photograph of three men he steals from Barton's antique shop.  He find it by accident the night of the rat battle when an antique mug falls off a table.  The photo depicts Barton on his knees in front of two naked men displaying themselves. A souvenir of some erotic night of debauchery, Galt figures. But he vaguely recalls seeing the face of one of the naked men. He pockets the photo and shows it to several men and two women over the course of the book. Both naked men will eventually be identified by name and profession, both will figure prominently later in the book especially in the violent finale. 

One of the most original bits of detective work involves Galt's highly developed sense of smell. While doing battle with the mysterious rat vandal and the army of rodents Galt smelled a strange cologne. His memory for that unique scent haunts him and he wants to identify it. He thinks it must be a custom made cologne which he describes as redolent of "dahlias, but heavy, verging on decay."  While attending a play he catches a whiff of the cologne while buying a drink at the theater's bar.  He approaches Dominic Treadworthy, a voice and diction teacher, and starts talking to him about his cologne. Through flattery and elaborate lies Galt discovers that the custom cologne, Gilead Oil, is available only in one place -- a leather shop specializing in S&M costumes and equipment.  The two men who own the store keep popping up in this case. Coincidences and chance are also a running motif in the plot.

I also liked a scene where Galt picks up a prostitute and then reveals he's not interested in sex at all.  Essentially he blackmails her into revealing information on her clients. It is during this scene that Galt learns of the names of the owners of the S&M shop and that Harry Caine, the older nastier man of the two and a pansexual of sorts who will have sex with anyone, has the bizarre hobby of breeding domesticated rats. Rose, the prostitute, begins dishing the dirt not so much out of fear of what Galt will do if she doens't talk, but because she hates the men who run the shop. Anything she can do to bring about their ruin will give her perverse pleasure.

Ultimately, despite the offbeat humor and the likeable personalities of Bunny and Matt Galt, Feedback is a bleak crime novel. For a long time I realized there was no murder. But then... the novel can end only one way. Violent fights, cruel beating and murder finally rears its ugly head. Then comes the saddest of revelations in the final pages. Yes, the villains (all of them reprehensible people and not for their sexual orientation) get their comeuppance. The consequences of all their devilry and cruelty leave lingering scars for several characters. Feedback ends with one of the most downbeat final paragraphs in any book I've read this year. 

QUOTES:  Timothy reveals he is a con artist and he fakes the age of certain ornamental items by battering them in a convoluted manner and then selling them as antiques. When confronted with his fraud he rationalizes: "I'm not the only one who does it, you know. It's a long established practice." Matt nodded. "So is child beating, but I haven't heard anyone try to pass that off as an honourable tradition. Christ."

One day he would have real office with proper heating and decent decor. And one day, he thought wryly...a couple of pigs would go flying past the window.

[Galt] knew without the benefit of a mirror to check, that his dignified, serious face was radiating absolute conviction. A gentlemen to his rubber soles, even if he did come from Glasgow.

If anybody knew that paperwork and questions were the way things got done in England it was an immigrant.

Somewhere, underneath the tendencies and perversions, was there maybe a simply, howling human soul, crying for some clean air, some ordinary decency?

THE AUTHOR:  Hugh Miller (1937 - ) was born in Wishaw, Scotland and now lives in Warwick, England. Apparently he's still alive as I could not locate an obituary. Miller began his novelist’s career in 1973 with New English Library, a British publisher of mass market paperbacks mostly originals. His first crime novel, The Drop Out, was followed quickly by five more in 1974.  Feedback, his third crime novel is his also first private eye novel. He also wrote crime fiction under the pen names John Watts and John Warwick.  

In addition to crime novels Miller wrote a romantic fiction series set in the 1920s-1930s about a nurse, nine biographies of British stage magicians, books on magic and mentalism, and several non-fiction books on forensic medicine. Throughout the 1980s and 1990s Miller made his living writing TV tie-ins based on UK TV series, including Eastenders, Ballykissangel and Touching Evil. He returned to crime fiction in1990 with a trio of crime novels about his only series character Det-Insp. Mike Fletcher.

I found an apparently self-written, tongue-in-cheek biography at Lybrary, an online website devoted to selling books on magic, mentalism, sleight of hand, and gambling. Miller had a variety of unusual jobs all of which seem to have popped up in his fiction. Here's the bio he wrote:

Born in Scotland at a time when the British still believed Chamberlain was a shrewd operator, Hugh Miller entered adolescence tainted by social lunacy. With the powerful energy generated by Gaelic despair, he hurtled through a formal education and out into a broad variety of activities. Has been a TV film cameraman and stills photographer, a civil servant, an assistant to a police pathologist, a protegee of the famous Dr. John Grierson, an investigator with an international enquiry organisation, author of several books, editor of a magazine and an active student of dishonest gambling. Took up magic to combat a tendency to bite his nails.

NEW STUFF: Strange Houses - Uketsu

Here we go again. Another puzzle laden "mystery" novel has arrived fresh from the pen of Uketsu and the English language translator Jim Rion.  It's Strange Houses (2025, original Japanese edition 2021) and this time instead of a variety of unusual picture puzzles that are supposed to reveal the hidden motives of the criminally minded characters in its pages (Strange Pictures) we have an assortment of floor plans of deviously designed homes.  But it's more of the same -- contrived story meant to nest inside some silly puzzles that are not too puzzling.  The preposterous story, once again devoid of any fundamental understanding of humanity, reminded me of a 1974 TV movie called Bad Ronald I saw when I was a teen that has stayed with me for decades. Quite a campy bit of psychological horror, wild and preposterous, but in the end utterly human. It was based on a cult crime novel by John Holbrook Vance, about a boy who commits a murder and is secreted away in a hidden room. Then his mother dies, the house is sold and.... well, you probably can guess at the rest.  Bad Ronald is way more thrilling and creepy than Strange Houses which has a similar conceit at its perverse center.

Uketsu's excessively Gothic story is informed of macabre murder novels, a family curse, revenge noir and --of course-- cruelty. An attempt to redeem the plot with a character who tries to invert the curse by not committing murder is weakly handled and seems more like a 21st century fairy tale than non-violent behavior resembling something a real human would do.  But of course these are only characters in a book, right?  It's OK to shun any guise of reality because of that. I guess.

With lines like this:  "..would anyone really sacrifice their whole future for a school sweetheart?"  I came to resent the author and the book.  That line contains the basis for hundreds of well known novels, stories, plays and movie scripts. It is a sentiment that is the foundation of timeworn storytelling where something real and human and relatable is at stake. That the author ridicules such a notion speaks volumes about who he or she is and why Uketsu writes soulless nonsense like Strange Houses. Rather than embrace humanity, a more challenging pathway, Uketsu reduces the risk and adventure by piling on excesses reminiscent of 18th century Gothic horror novel conventions: deformity, obsessive love, paranoid fear, and "brainwashed" people compelled to commit murder because they have been cursed.

I'm done with Uketsu. These are not novels. They are naive puzzle books drawing on video game notion that violent revenge is the only recourse. The narrative is skeletal, the dialogue is rendered in script format adding an off-putting dispassionate layer to the entire framework. Strange Houses seems more like an instruction manual with all the real tools of fiction writing -- human characters, metaphor, descriptive and rich language -- completely stripped away to make way for a bare bones structure of logic puzzles onto which a flimsy and outlandish plot is attached. There's pulp fiction and there's trash fiction. A third English translated book from Uketsu came out this year -- Strange Buildings.  I won't be going to the open house.

Sentence Deferred - August Derleth

THE STORY: Sentence Deferred (1939) tells of how circumstantial evidence and coincidence can complicate a murder investigation. Two men, Beckit and Alford, claim to have shot a thoroughly disliked bank whose savings and loan institution failed taking with it most of the accounts. The victim was shot twice according to each shooter's confessions, once in the head, once in the chest. But only his bones can be examined. Why? Because the banker's home was set on fire and the blaze was so intense, accelerated by addition of gasoline, that the corpse was destroyed leaving only a skeleton.

 THE CHARACTERS:  Judge Peck once again joins forces with the District Attorney and coroner Dr. Considine of the local Wisconsin jurisdiction near Baraboo to make sense of a murder case with two confessions and a mystery of committed arson. Interestingly, though both shooters confess to having fired their revolvers at the banks neither one will admit to setting the house ablaze.  Consequently, there is much discussion of forensic evidence involving arson, accelerates and what fire does to human body. Over the course of the novel the two trials are summarized with interesting testimony rendered in dialogue.  One trial ends in an acquittal, the other in a conviction. But Judge Peck is not satisfied that either men are guilty of murder or arson.

The crux of the case is the identification of the body. Anyone familiar with GAD novels should instantly be alerted a timeworn gimmick when a skeleton is found in a burned building.  Did the fire actually completely incinerate the body in a single night? The wily judge is certain that Henry Hornly, the despised and crooked banker, is still alive and was behind the arson.

Late in the book Derleth introduces Herbert Hornly, the victim's eccentric brother who, like most people in town, was not a fan of his relation. Herbert quickly became my favorite character in a complicated book solely because his appearance adds a level of oddball humor not often found in the Judge Peck mystery novels.  He has a pet St. Bernard named Vladimir who he affectionately calls "Laddie".  A dog-catcher is constantly picking up the dog that has a habit of running off Herbert's property and roaming the village streets.  Herbert thinks the dog catcher has a scheme of milking him of the $1 fine for a stray dog and is basically at war with the town and the dog catcher in particular.  This turns into a running gag -- something extremely unusual for Derleth, at least in the mystery novels I've read. When all is wrapped up Herbert Hornly appears one more time and there is a neat end to the dog catcher saga with a clever joke that made me laugh aloud.  Loved Herbert and Laddie! 

INNOVATIONS & ODDITIES:  The IDing of the corpse relies heavily on dental records that almost certainly prove that the body is Hornly due to a highly unusual dental repair in an otherwise perfect set of teeth. How could that possibly be faked, think both Dr. Considine and Dr. Asten, the expert witness in dentistry.  But Judge Peck, ever wary of certainties being doubtful, digs further into Hornly's past and uncovers a bizarre coincidence that will upset the entire case

Derleth has a habit of adding quirky narrative touches in his mystery novels.  In Sentence Deferred he goes beyond quirky and t commits what I consider a transgression in logic. The lawyers directly address the jury during testimony! Both prosecuting and defense teams editorialize and remind the jury what the testimony means to their case. Unheard of in the actual practice of trial law. Even someone who knows law only from reading novels and watching TV shows knows those remarks are solely reserved for the attorney's closing statement at trial's conclusion.  What fiction editor would allow that in any novel?  Scribner's, Derleth's publisher at the time, was known for being stickler for sophisticated grammar. I guess they spent too much time modifying Derleth's stilted prose and overlooked a glaring error in jurisprudence.

Peck learns that Hornly made friends with a dentist, Dr. Asten, who allowed Hornly to watch him treat patients.  He even allowed Hornly to clean the dentist's teeth as a trial run.  Bizarre and outlandish!  But of course this detail mentioned in passing will play a significant role in Peck finally putting allthe pieces together in a seemingly complex criminal scheme.

QUOTES: Dr. Considine: "Positive identification of the body remains unfortunately in question. And the setting of the fire so long after the killing--over an hour--is going to be a problem. This is all most unsatisfactory."

Judge Peck: "Consider, what have you? Circumstantial evidence that looks like a certainty. But is it, in fact? I think not. Admittedly it stacks up very nicely against Beckit. The question of Beckit's guilt simply does not enter in at all, as far as the legal aspect is concerned. [...] The question here, however, is whether or not the circumstantial evidence is conclusive." 

Dr. Metzger, expert witness in forensic pathology: "It is [a case of positive identity]. In a case like this it is most unwise to take anything for granted. You will have observed the entirely circumstantial nature of not only the cases against the accused, but also of all evidence. In casting about for some loophole, we must naturally attack those facets which, if disproved, will afford the loophole. The identity of the remains is one --the chief one, I think."

Judge Peck: "The nature of circumstantial evidence is such that is it fundamentally always extremely untrustworthy. I have no doubt that the cases of the State versus Beckit and the State versus Alford may well become Wisconsin's classic examples of the insufficiency of even the strongest circumstantial evidence."

EASY TO FIND? Prior to selling my copy online last month I had checked for other copies for sale.  There were several copies out there in this vast online shopping mall. Now there are only two!  No idea who bought all of them but it seems Judge Peck is suddenly of interest to many mystery readers. Could it be these reviews?  I'm not a betting man, but I'd say it's highly likely.  ;^)  Act now before those two are also gone.

NEW STUFF: The Final Problem - Arturo Pérez-Reverte

There will always be Sherlock Holmes pastiches.  It is the one type of mystery novel homage that seems to be pouring out of an eternal fountain.  I tend to avoid them these days but The Final Problem (2026),  from the pen of inventive Spanish writer Arturo Pérez-Reverte, has an intriguing originality in that this is not only a Holmes homage but also an intricately devised meta-fictional tribute to the history and development of detective fiction and also a true love letter to the Golden Age of Cinema, specifically Hollywood studio produced movies of the 1930s -1950s.

The stand-in for Holmes in this well thought out and trickily plotted detective novel is an actor who clearly is meant to be Basil Rathbone. No attempt to hide his true identity is made even if Pérez-Reverte saddles him with the awful stage name of Hopalong Basil, a name Basil despises. His real first name is no better.  It's Ormond and only one person ever calls him that.  I think it happens twice. He's referred to by his last name hammering home the source of the character each time someone addresses him as Basil. Anyone who knows old movies and the life of Basil Rathbone will see through the disguise immediately regardless of the similarity in names.  Ormond Basil's biographical information as it slowly seeps into the storyline parallels Rathbone's life matching everything from his close friendships with David Niven and Errol Flynn to his failed marriages.

And so we have a meta-fictional mystery with Holmes being played by the actor most well known at the time of the book's setting (it's 1960, BTW) who reluctantly accepts the role of detective. Basil is among a group of international tourists marooned on a Greek island when a violent death occurs. They are waiting for a severe storm to subside so that the Corfu police can arrive by boat and take over the police investigation. Edith Mander, a British tourist, is found dead from an apparent suicide in a locked room.  But of course it's not. This is a detective novel. There is a murderer among the tourists and violent deaths will occur twice more (one in another locked and bolted room) before the police arrive. Basil takes on the Holmes mantle one more time with the aid of Paco Foxá, Spanish thriller writer -- another attempt at a disguise that is easily seen through as it is obvious this is meant to be Pérez-Reverte.

This book is overloaded with Holmes allusions and quotes.  Hardcore devotees and all the Baker Street Irregulars out there may find this a real romp, but the incessant quoting of lines from the Canon and allusions to the many movie adaptations Ormond Basil has appeared in were a distraction for me. An equal amount of references to Hollywood movies, both real and imagined, dozens of real Golden Age of Cinema actors and actresses as well as insights into the life of Basil Rathbone are strewn throughout the text.  The abundance of references seemed like padding by the midpoint of the book. After each lengthy interruption I was eager for a return to the unravelling of the many mysteries surrounding the death by hanging and the two bludgeoning murders that occur later.

Basil and Foxá are a good duo and enjoy the role playing so much that there begin to refer to each other as Holmes and Watson. However, the role playing gets to be as transparent as Ormond's true life inspiration when the talk turns to plot tricks and misdirection. An exchange between Basil and Foxá hints at the rule breaking trend in GAD mystery fiction of both the detective and the Watson turning out to be the murderer.  This was, I think,a huge mistake on Pérez-Reverte's part because it led me to scrutinize one of the two detectives' actions and I easily figured out the solution to one of the locked rooms. Without that mention I don't think I would have seen through it so easily. Astute readers may see that sequence of discovering the second locked room is an allusion to a well-known detective novel, oft imitated in the genre. Even the title of that work is mentioned off-hand at least once that I noted.

What is most unique about the narrative is Pérez-Reverte's devotion to the actual construction of a mystery novel. Not only is this a meta-fictional treatment of a detective story it is the only one I can recall in which the crimes are viewed as incidents in a novel. The solution itself is arrived at only by looking at the murders as if they were created by a writer of mystery fiction. This conceit makes the reader look rather closely at the actions of Foxá, a writer himself.  But don't expect an obvious twist there.  The real motive behind the murders is hidden very cleverly and while the focus seems to be on a cat-and-mouse game between Basil and Foxá, Pérez-Reverte has several tricks up his sleeve delivered in the finale that elicited a few gasps of surprise from this veteran reader of detective fiction. Timeworn motifs and plot gimmicks show up and I was too busy out-thinking Pérez-Reverte to see the obvious.  And, of course, the ultimate Holmes allusion arrives in the finale, one that should have been obvious from the start. I overlooked that one because of the constant references to Moriarty. I should have paid closer attention to Basil and his frequently quoted line "You see, Watson, but you do not observe."

Some of the best parts of the book are in the talks of writing and concocting mystery plots, comparing "real" crime with fictional crime and the role of the detective. Here are some of my favorite exchanges:

Foxá on the art of misdirection: "You have to cover the reader's ears when you show them something and then cover their eyes when you tell them something. Also, play with their capacity for misjudgement and forgetfulness. You have to plant an idea, hide it, and confuse the reader with things that lead them to a different idea..."

"Sherlock Holmes wouldn't be on television today for being famous; he would be famous for being on television." 

 Foxá persuading Basil to be their detective: "Look at it another way. Lacking a real detective and with all those films under your belt, you have more experience than any of us. It's less about a criminal investigation that simply acting as an authority figure. Something symbolic." 

Foxá: "...[the murderer is] working like a good novelist."
Basil: "That's exactly what he does: incite ideas, but arranges everything to as to impede us from thinking things though. That's why we cannot trust the visible clues. And he could be offering up real ones as well to make it seem less suspicious."

Basil: "One of the downsides of imagination is that is suggests too many alternatives and can cause one to follow false leads."

Basil: "Remember that we're inside a novel. [...] Who said that audacity and romance seem to have passed forever from the criminal world?"
Foxá: "You said it. Well, Sherlock Holmes said it. The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge?"
Basil: "Well, Sherlock Holmes, or Conan Doyle was mistaken. There are still some romantic killers left."  

The Final Problem is a meta-fictional tour de force. Whatever your obsession -- Sherlock Holmes, old Hollywood movies, actors and actresses, or the traditional detective novel formula with all its trickery and plot motifs -- this new treasure trove of a novel will not disappoint.  Just be prepared for an overload of allusions.  Is there a preventive drug like Dramamine for allusion overkill?  Pop one of those in mouth (figuratively, of course) before diving headlong into this richly detailed and truly fun book. 

Net of Cobwebs - Elisabeth Sanxay Holding

THE STORY:  Malcolm Drake has returned from his WW2 Navy service a damaged man. He keeps dwelling on a young sailor whose death he feels he caused. While recuperating in his brother's home he has been amassing sleeping pills for what seems like a planned suicide. Then at an impromptu party he insists his teetotaling Aunt Evie join in drinking and she accepts a strongly prepared cocktail more on a dare than a willingness to be a social drinker. After downing that cocktail she dies on the spot, a rare case of alcohol poisoning that affected her weak heart. Malcolm is led to believe that he caused her death too. Police want to rule out murder and label the death a horrible accident.  But the family physician and several relatives lay the blame with Malcolm.  His mental state worsens with the additional guilt. Reality and imagination blur so that neither can be distinguished from one another.  Then another person dies - this one an obvious murder. Will Malcolm be able to escape the Net of Cobwebs (1945) that have entangled his mind and altered his reality?

THE CHARACTERS: The story is told exclusively through Malcolm's point of view and everyone he meets or knows is filtered through his skewed view of reality. This is an intriguing touch on Sanxay's part as everyone may not be presented as they really are. Just as Malcolm's mind is cracking and his guilt affects all of his actions and thoughts so we see the characters through this veil of cobwebs, an eerie but apt metaphor for a mind trapped in the past and at odds with the present. Of the supporting players in the the story these are the stand-outs:

Aunt Evie - the victim and a woman with a lot of money. Her nieces and nephews are expecting a share in her estate but when the will is read they are all in for a shock when Malcolm, someone Aunt Evie seemed to be ridiculing most of the time, receives $20,000 -- the largest bequest.

Virginia - One of Malcolm's in-laws, sister to Helene, his brother's wife. Virginia seems to be the kinder of the two sisters. Immediately following the reading of the will she begins to profess a fondness for Malcolm that grows increasingly obsessive.  She calls it love but it seems more like she has eyes on his inheritance.

Ivan Jenette - A musician who has inveigled his way into Aunt Evie's life and her bank account.  Described as a "detached sort of person" by Helene, Arthur Drake's wife. He's a wannabe artist with no ambition other than to grab as much money as he can from the older woman who becomes his patron of sorts.  She pays the rent on his apartment and supplies him with additional income when she has him perform concerts for her high society matron friends. He loathes his life but a indolent parasite can only cling to his gravy train. He's furious when he is left out of her will. Ivan then begins to bother Malcolm and claims to have seen something the night that Aunt Evie died. They arrange to meet, but he never shows up.

Lily Kingscrown - One of the next door neighbors to Malcolm's brother's house. She appears to be the embodiment of kindness. Her striking beauty captures Malcolm's eye and soon his heart.  She seems to good to be true.  Spends her free time volunteering at a mental institution for war veterans. She has an empathy for the men she cares for and this seems to give her an insight into Malcolm's troubles and perhaps why she listens to him more carefully than others.  She seems to be his only ally, but does she like everyone else have an ulterior motive in becoming friendly with Malcolm. Apart from Malcolm she's the most fascinating character in the book 

Gussie - Lily's not too bright housemaid.  Only 18 years old and thinks she knows the world. Malcolm must find a way to get her to reveal what she saw in Lily's garage.  A little bribe might work...

Ben - Servant in the Drake household.  Works for Arthur, Malcolm's brother. Ben may have something to do with Ivan's disappearance. Malcolm also discovers he and Gussie have some kind of sexual relationship that creeps him out because Ben is considerably older than Gussie.

Dr. Lurie - The family physician who is on hand for all the deaths. He is highly suspicious of Malcolm and wants everyone to know that the war vet is most likely unstable and liable to do something they will all regret. Wants Malcolm sent to the mental home. Reveals at a key moment in the plot that Malcolm has been hoarding sleeping pills. Comes across as a sinister threatening doctor, but we're seeing him through Malcolm's perception. Is he actually a good physician or is in he in cahoots with someone?

ATMOSPHERE:  Sanxay's strength in writing these kinds of suspense stories is her skill in creating an atmosphere of fear and dread.  Malcolm is truly haunted by the young sailor's death; it colors every waking moment so that the first half is almost a ghost story.  When Ivan disappears and his body turns up in Lily's garage a new kind of terror begins. Then just as quickly as it appeared the body disappears. We can only sympathize with this poor man who believes he is losing his mind. Nothing in the book is ever treated lightly.  Every event and incident has the potential for danger. No one's words ever seem honest or truthful. No one at Arthur's house seems to be on Malcolm's side, not even Virginia whose love seems over-the-top and insincere. By the midpoint we want Lily to be the ally Malcolm desperately needs.  But even Lily seems to be hiding true intent in her friendship with Malcolm. 

QUOTES: Four o'clock is the zero hour. That's when your vitality is at the lowest ebb. Ebb tide, when life is going out; when people die. All right, then die at four o'clock, and be done with it.

Three o-clock is certainly a quiet hour. What the hell is the matter with all the little crickets and things? Too late in the year? Or is it the rain? Or is it because I-- can't hear them?  Four o'clock is the zero hour. Then let it be. You've got to be dead or alive, one or the other. Not like this.

Cobwebs are pretty. I've looked at them. I saw a bee caught in a cobweb once. It was getting dragged along, by the littlest spider in the world. Dragged into web. The bee could break one thread, and another thread. But in the end there were too many threads. Each one of them is so little, you think, well, I'll bust out of this. But then there's another.  And another...

EASY TO FIND?  There were at least three paperback reprints after the initial 1945 Simon & Schuster hardcover edition in the US: two editions from Bantam and one in a 2-for-1 Giant Ace. Most copies for sale are one of those three paperback editions.  For some reason several of the Bantam 1st paperbacks are priced at the cost of a 1st edition hardcover.  I'll never understand the prices of vintage paperbacks these days. Who is paying these absurd prices? No one, it seems, because they just sit out there in the digital shopping mall gathering ethereal dust. Anyway, the US 1st edition is pretty damn scarce these days though I did turn up two US hardcovers but they look to be beat up reading copies.  The paperback reprints seem to be the only options now. There may be a digital reprint, but I don't spend much time looking for them. Happy hunting! 

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!