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!