FFB: The Spook Lights Affair - Marcia Muller & Bill Pronzini

THE STORY: Sabina Carpenter's latest gig is more suited for a professional chaperone than a private detective. She's one half of the team of Carpenter and Quincannon and she's got loads of experience as a former Pink Rose with the distinguished Pinkerton Detectives. But watching over spoiled rich girl Virginia St. Ives whose rebellious nature is getting the ire of her father has landed Sabina with this job that's one part nanny and one part spy. At a fancy ball Virginia throws a tantrum, rushes to a cliffside gazebo, climbs atop a parapet and throws herself over to the rocks below. Sabina is beyond shocked and sounds the alarm about Virginia's melodramatic suicide.  But when they get to the cliffs the body is gone. Meanwhile John Quincannon is on the hunt for $35,000 stolen from a Wells Fargo office and with luck nab the thieves in the process. The ten percent reward for recovery of all the money is more than enough incentive to get the job done. The two detectives compare notes on each other's cases and soon learn there are linking suspects in both and are further surprised when an additional case involving ghostly manifestations at a makeshift seaside village provides them with the key to the solutions of what happened to Virginia and who stole the money.

THE CHARACTERS: John Quincannon first appeared in a few western novels written solely by Bill Pronzini back in the 1980s.  He began his exploits as a Secret Service agent battling counterfeiters and later teamed up with Sabina in a book of short stories when they start their own detective agency. Sabina and John have a good working relationship, a nice way of playing off each other's personalities and methods.  Sabina is the no nonsense type while Quincannon tends to be more blustery and impulsive; she leads with cool logic and he with gut instinct. He's also a bit conflicted in his attraction for her but Sabina will have none of that. Apparently this is a recurring subplot in the series.

The remaining cast make for a motley crew with some of the typical Western archetypes you'd expect (the stagecoach driver with the heart of gold subbing for a similar taxi driver found in private eye books of the 40s and 50s, for example) along with a handful of historical figures (Adolph Sutro is the host of the party at the novel's opening) and some well done supporting characters like Lucas Whiffing, the bicycle shop employee who strikes Virginia's fancy; Bob Cantwell, a no good gambler; Miss Kingston, one of Virginia's friends who is of major help to Sabina; and the oddball mystery man who appears mysteriously on the scene in order to help both John and Sabina with his amazing finds and world class detective work. Oddball because the guy claims to be Sherlock Holmes.

INNOVATIONS: The book is structured with alternating viewpoints as we follow Sabina and John each taking care of their own cases. With the introduction of the third case which gives the book its title the two detectives find their cases intersecting and overlapping with more and more mysteries revealing patterns of behavior in Lucas Whiffing and David St. Ives and several others.

As might be guessed Virginia's suicide is actually a clever bit of fakery that involves a variation of an impossible crime that well read mystery fans might be able to pick up on.  Even if they don't' recognize the one book with a very similar "miracle problem" the authors have done a fine job of planting f some well hidden clues that will help the reader figure out how Virginia made it look like she plummeted to her "death" then disappeared. The identity of the murderer (for wherever missing money is involved there are sure to be dead bodies eventually) is a nice surprise with some more well done work with dropping clues among the red herrings.  Overall, there is a pleasant retro feel to this mystery novel not only because it is set in days of yore, but for the plotting that recalls some of the better Golden Age and traditional mystery novels of the past.

THINGS I LEARNED:  There is a lot about the history of San Francisco's mayor Adolph Sutro whose wise investments in real estate and land made him one of the richest men in mid 19th century California. He was responsible for building an aquarium, developing the adult playground known as the Sutro Baths, and planted hundreds of eucalyptus to take advantage of tax free status of 'forested' areas.  He opened his estate to the public charging each person a small fee for the pleasure of strolling through his grounds but security guards made sure no one turned the stroll into a picnic. No food baskets were allowed on the grounds.

The book is peppered with unusual 19th century terms (someone's face is the "color of clabbered milk") to give it a nice period flavor.  But as with most contemporary mysteries that are set in the past there is a tendency to lapse into 21st century vernacular and thinking. Not a major flaw but it can be jarring when someone begins to contemplate whether or not Virginia was "feeling depressed" and if that led to her suicide. Quincannon has a trove of 19th century exclamations that made me smile. Similarly, when one of the villains lets loose with a rant of foul language the authors have fun in conveying them without actually resorting to swear words.

EASY TO FIND? The Spook Lights Affair (2013) came out only three years ago. It's hardly a forgotten book. Of course it's easy to find. You'll be able to choose print or digital with no problem. Knock yourself out. I enjoyed it a heckuva lot and look forward to more of John and Sabina's adventures.

Femme - Bill Pronzini

Femme (2012) is one of two Nameless Detective novellas recently published by Cemetery Dance, an independent press known primarily for horror novels. It's a throwback for Pronzini to the days of the Gold Medal paperback original. Nameless meets his match in a woman who might have been appeared in any of the number of dark crime and noir novels that were the specialty of Day Keene, Bruno Fischer, and especially Gil Brewer. Pronzini has mentioned in 1001 Midnights that The Vengeful Virgin is his favorite of Brewer's books and I can see that wicked Cory Beckett might easily have been inspired by Brewer's legion of bad women who'll do anything to get what they want.

The plot is a basic find-the-man plot with Nameless hired to track down Cory's brother Kenneth who is on the lam from a robbery. As the story progresses Nameless soon learns that Cory is far from the decorous client and loving sister. She has an ulterior motive for finding Kenneth and Nameless is sure it has to do with money. But Cory wants more than just money.

For those who like their woman characters in crime fiction mean and nasty you get more bang for your buck in Cory Beckett than any other bad girl in the genre. She outdoes Phyllis Dietrichson, Cora Papadopoulos and Julie Bailey and a dozen others whose names may not so recognizable. And the final twist disparaged by some other blog reviewers I thought to be the perfect icing on this frigid monster. This is no book for feminists that's for sure. But for a quick dip into the depths of the darkest of noir you can do no better.

This was my brief contribution to a blog celebration for Grand Master Bill Pronzini who turns 70 today. I'm on the road headed home from the French Quarter Jazz Festival in New Orleans. I promised something and this may be short and sweet, but it's a review of a neat little book that I think lives up to, and in some ways surpasses, the kind of noir novel I love from the past.

Happy birthday, Bill! And keep on scribin'!

ALTERNATIVE CRIME: Death Walks on Cat Feet - Paul Haggard

That's supposed to be a skull in a hatbox.

Sometimes I get tired of reading the same old kind of whodunits - bodies in the library, find the hidden will, missing husbands masquerading as avenging killers. You know the kind of book I'm talking about. Every now and then I need a little jolt of the weird. Blowpipe murders, liquid nitrogen pouring out of a shower head, the search for a headless skeleton. You get the picture. I'll go browsing along my shelves for a book that's been sitting there for several years and when I dig into the pages of a select volume I usually get more than I ever bargained for. That's what happened when I started reading Death Walks on Cat Feet (1938) by Paul Haggard (aka Stephen Longstreet -- one time cartoonist, 1950s novelist,  and screenwriter). Once again I find I've stumbled across a book that not only seemed way ahead of its time but is also one of the many books featured in Gun in Cheek Bill Pronzini's love letter to "bad" mystery novels.

Death Walks on Cat Feet is either Haggard's second or third mystery book (two books were published in 1938) using this pseudonym and the only one to feature amateur criminologist, museum curator, and former coroner Sam Macabre. Perfect name for a coroner, eh? Not only is the lead detective suitably named but his strange museum housing an odd collection of artifacts dealing with notorious murderers and their crimes is called Macabre, Inc. And macabre is an understated adjective to describe the near necrophilic atmosphere that pervades this grisly, often stomach churning, and very pulpy detective novel.

It's the only book of the Golden Age I've ever read where coroners takes center stage as the amateur sleuths. The only policeman in this novel, Captain Fielding, does hardly any police work at all and allows Sam Macabre to run the show along with the current coroner of Manhattan. The really strange thing is that the majority of the book takes place in Miami, Florida and that Macabre, Fielding and the NYC coroner (named -- believe it or not -- Doc Savage) fly to Florida in search of a missing body, find another murder victim and take over the investigation of that crime in conjunction with the original murder that occurred in New York. But I'm getting a bit ahead of myself and probably already confusing you.

Joy Rogers, Sam's niece, is charged with suspicion of murder when she accidentally stumbles across the corpse of Ludwig Elm, theatrical producer, who is discovered with a human skull left on top of his body. In fleeing the scene she leaves behind her monogrammed handbag and a hatbox with a one of a kind hat she intended to wear to her upcoming wedding. She seeks help from her Uncle Sam who decides to send her to an upstate New York sanitarium for safekeeping. An autopsy reveals that Elm died of natural causes, but that the skull reveals two bullet holes at the rear base. The investigation then shifts to discovering the identity of the person whose skull it is and what happened to the rest of the body.

The author circa 1975
(courtesy of the Stephen Longstreet website)

Captain Fielding is in charge of the case. He reluctantly takes Sam's word that Joy is innocent. Macabre challenges Fielding to a bet. If the police avoid arresting Joy for one week, Sam will use that time to hunt down the real murderer. Fielding agrees and the first thing they do is head to the home of Sam's oddball Polish sculptor friend. Why? To reconstruct the face of course. This is the first time I have ever seen something so completely modern done in a detective novel of this era.

A zany scene introduces the Polish sculptor who of course brilliantly creates an astonishing female likeness on the skull with the aid of modelling clay and his nimble fingers. You'd think it would take a couple of days, but no this genius does it all in a couple of hours. Facial reconstruction while you wait.  Sam then asks for photos of Ludwig's ex-wife who coincidentally has disappeared within the past few days. The sculpted face and the photos are a match. Now to find out who killed Mrs. Elm and why. The investigation takes them into the world of Broadway theater where we meet these colorful characters:

Eddy Prentiss – stage manager and ex-con with a rap sheet including petty theft, burglary and murder. Sam keeps him in mind as suspect number one.

Baroness Higgins (aka The Princess) – former crooked medium now a theatrical angel and wanna-be actress. Planning to marry Elm as soon as he could divorce his wife.

Freddy Martin – another stereotyped gay character who happens to be the costume designer for Ludwig Elm's current show that is intended to be a vehicle for the Baroness

Fern Deshaw – bad actress trying to pass herself of as Southern Belle who shows too much interest in Elm's murder and has a lust for diamonds. Turns out she too has a rap sheet, hers includes assault and battery.

Robert Deshaw – Fern's stepfather. Breeds and sells tropical fish. Rented a cottage to Elm's wife in Miami where Mrs. Elm fled when she left her husband. The one scene in which he appears is loaded with everything you never wanted to know about the care of tropical fish in home aquariums.

Dumpling Joe – pro wrestler turned bodyguard. Hired to keep an eye on Joy when she is stalked by Prentiss at the sanitarium. Coincidentally (of course) he also was bodyguard for Mrs. Elm who had a collection of valuable diamonds she loved to wear and needed protection from avaricious thieves.

Skulls, skeletons, missing diamonds, an obsession with graphic descriptions of autopsies, a disgusting scene devoted to the evisceration of fish, and a pool of flesh eating lampreys. What more could you ask for in weirdness?

As for detection:  How about Sam's esoteric knowledge of a 16th century Duke related to the Borgias who killed his rival's wife and dangled her decapitated head in front of his victim essentially giving him the fright of his life that helps Sam figure out that Ludwig Elm must've been frightened to death by the sight of Mrs. Elm's skull. Or Sam's arcane insight into a species of red ant known only to a certain area of Miami that helps him determine that an object was hidden under the bathroom tiles of Mrs Elm's home where said red ants were thriving. This book has weirdness in spades. Weirdness galore!

"Wait! Did you say flesh eating lampreys, John? But lampreys are only bloodsucking parasitical fish. They aren't carnivorous."

Oh you smart aleck, kid. You didn't even raise your hand. But of course lampreys aren't carnivores. That doesn't stop Mr Haggard or Longstreet or Weiner (pick a name, any name) from putting them in his book. This is an alternative classic mystery novel. There are no rules here. And especially no rules for grammar, syntax or metaphorical language. Making a nice segue to these select passages from Death Walks on Cat Feet.

The paperback reprint published under Longstreet's
other pseudonym and given a more lurid & fitting title

Describing Sam Macabre's problem with a bumpy ride on the flight to Miami:
Sam felt his stomach coming north on an elevator.

Describing the sounds of a gospel choir:
The obligattos of hosannas took on a strange grandeur.

The art of the simile:
Mrs. Elm's former cottage was as silent as an obelisk.

Metaphor a la Haggard:
The nine foot cyclone-fence, that did monkey shines around the estate, was topped with thick arteries of extra tough barb wire...

Wiseacre dialog:
"Lives there a dame who isn't a pushover for any kind of stinking gallantry?"

I could fill the page with examples of this memorable writing. But you must discover the rest on your own. If you dare...  Copies of Death Walks on Cat Feet are incredibly scarce but you can find a few copies under a different title and a different pseudonym (see photo at right) for between $15 and $23.  Or you can purchase my "well read" copy in the original hardcover using the original more poetic title. Just drop me an email.

The Spitting Image - Michael Avallone

The “alternative classic” is a term Bill Pronzini created when he wrote Gun in Cheek and Son of Gun in Cheek, two entertaining and enlightening books about those hair-brained detective and mystery novels with loopy plots and even loopier writing. Pronzini loves them. And so do I …to a point. Before I had even heard of Pronzini’s books or heard of the term I had stumbled across more than my fair share of alternative classics. The Case of Mr. Cassidy by William Targ, The Palgrave Mummy by Florence M. Pettee, and Murder on the Palisades by Will Levinrew are three outrageous examples of the kind of book discerning readers of crime fiction now call alternative classics. They may be bad, but we love them all the more because of their very badness. Ludicrous plots, wacky detective work, far-fetched murder methods, and some atrocious writing are all in great supply in each one of those books. I read them years before I learned they all ended up both celebrated and disparaged in one or the other of Pronzini’s books. Some writers are even lucky enough (if lucky is the right word) to get an entire chapter to themselves in the Gun in Cheek books. Such a lucky one is Michael Avallone.

I managed to acquire five of Avallone’s private eye novels featuring Ed Noon in my various book store hunts this year. After decades of looking for them they all started turning up with increasing frequency and all at very affordable prices. Last week I finally sat down to read one and after debating whether to go with the very first one (The Tall Dolores) or one that Pronzini wrote about with great affection (The Crazy Mixed-Up Corpse) or the one with the strangest cover (The Voodoo Murders) I finally settled on choosing the one with the most intriguing and appealing story - The Spitting Image. It also happens to employ one of my favorite overused detective novel tropes – twins – and I wanted to see what Avallone did with that. As it turned out this was perhaps the best book to start my Avallone initiation. It turned out to have a wild plot with a surprise ending that blew me away. I should’ve seen it coming miles ahead of the reveal, but I didn’t. I loved that.

The Spitting Image (1953) is the second Ed Noon novel and tells the story of April and June Wexler, twin sisters who both fear the other is planning to do her in. There’s a convoluted will (a la Harry Stephen Keeler) that their wealthy oil tycoon father drew up stating if by the date of their twenty-first birthday one of the twins dies, the other will inherit his two million dollar estate. If both survive, none will inherit anything and the estate goes to a charity. Was there ever a more inviting incentive for a murder to take place? Prior to the novel's opening chapter three attempts were made on June Wexler and she tries to hire Noon to protect her and put a stop her murderous sister’s plot. When a chandelier comes crashing from the ceiling nearly killing both girls Noon is not sure which woman is the intended target. Then April secretly tries to hire Noon as her bodyguard until her birthday which is quickly approaching. A movie star handsome lawyer, his thug of a male secretary, and couple of goons from Central Casting all figure into the storyline as well.

One surprise that didn’t impress me at all was Avallone’s depiction of the handsome lawyer. Just as Sax Rohmer created eerily “feminine” looking men and turned them into some of his best villains implying along the way things about their sexuality and planning a grisly end for him, Avallone creates a gorgeous man and goes out of his way to talk about the eerie handsomeness of the character and how it makes Noon extremely uncomfortable. The lawyer is gay, of course, and will turn out to be something of a crook as well. Think he’ll suffer a gruesome death? Of course he will. This kind of thing was pretty much standard for the period. Evil homosexuals who break the law, treat women indifferently or cruelly, and do other reprehensible things like speaking grammatically perfect English must all suffer nasty violent deaths. It shouldn’t bother me these days, but it still does.

Pronzini writes in Son of Gun in Cheek of how Avallone liked to insert his conservative social and political beliefs into his books. The loathsomeness displayed for the lawyer is one of Avallone's more subtle early examples. Apparently he gets more and more right wing in the later books when Ed Noon ceases to be the typical flatfoot and more of a secret agent for the federal government fighting Commies, fags and all other threats to the American Way.  I wonder if lesbians turn up in Avallone’s books. Usually they are treated just as shabbily during the heyday of the paperback original, but also in a sexually prurient and titillating manner.

I almost forget the best part of these books - Avallone’s writing. Let me close with some choice examples of his mastery of the silly simile and other metaphorical wonders:

She came into my office like the first five bars of "Tiger Rag."

She sat down with an effort, crossing a pair of silken legs that were strictly weapons to be used on men.

A volcano was going on inside her and the bubbles were erupting like hot lava.

The floor around him was a pool of vermilion. Like the Red Sea. I'm not being funny. Just descriptive.

His eyebrows rose like a fast elevator.

Randall Crandall. That wasn't a name. It was a voice impediment.

Crandall's nostrils nearly rose in disgust.

I had a headache. A musical headache. All of the scoring was by Max Steiner with just enough Stan Kenton noisy brass section thrown in to keep my skull in an uproar.

This is a good book to start with Avallone even if you read only one.  It has all his hallmarks: goofy writing, nutty characters, loopy story with a surprise twist worthy of some of the great of the Golden Age. I'm looking forward to reading the rest of the Ed Noon books I own. I've even ordered one of Avallone's Gothic suspense novels written under a clever pseudonym that's more of an inside joke - "Edwina Noone."

More on Ed Noon here and an excellent remembrance on Michael Avallone here.  Both posts include bibliographies.