FFB: Ducats in Her Coffin - Thurman Warriner

THE STORY: Patricia Shearstone meets Mr. Ambo by chance in an antiquarian bookshop. She chooses to confide in him based solely on his “uncle-like” appearance and demeanor. The 17 year-old is fear for her life. Her sister Rosalind disappeared three days ago and Patricia thinks someone killed her. Patricia fled home and today on her way to the bookshop someone tried to run her over with a car. The teenager then tops off her alarming story with this confession: “We know of a Secret and we’re being targeted by someone who needs to protect that secret.” After some discussion, words of advice, and much soul searching Mr. Ambo reluctantly agrees to shelter Patricia, but before he can tell her of his plan she runs away. She leaves a note apologizing but does not reveal where she’s headed. That day Rosalind’s battered body is found in the doorway of a local shop. Apparently, everything Patricia said was true. Mr. Ambo enlists the help of his dear friend private eye John Scotter and his lovely secretary and assistant Lottie to find the runaway teen before she becomes victim number two.

THE CHARACTERS: Ducats in Her Coffin (1951) is the second detective novel by Thurman Warriner. Like the debut crime novel Method in his Murder (1950) the trio of detectives once again appear as the tag team of sleuths – Charles Ambo, a septuagenarian book collector; John Franklin Cornelius Scotter, private eye; and Lottie, Scotter’s Gal Friday and primary leg man…uh, woman. Archdeacon Toft who seemed to do some armchair detective work in the first book also briefly appears but has no real input in this story. Instead, the crew travel to Urmsbury when Lottie's research reveals a Canon Toft who lives there.  He is the Archdeacon's brother Gilbert and is a veritable encyclopedia on the Shearstone family, their profitable quarry business and an odd society founded by one of the deceased Shearstones.

To give you an idea of the kind of complexity that face our heroes in this wildly inventive case here is a summary from Scotter:  "Things are beginning to shape up. Till we came down here, we'd hit a brick wall straight in front of our noses.  All we'd got was a lot Girls' Own Paper stuff about a secret... Now we know there's been enough dirty work in the Shearstone family to warrant a bagful of murders.  A ravin' maniac, one son show's left a Naboth's vineyard, won't sell and skips the country. A hunk of land in the middle of the family quarries that still belongs to him. Another son who starts a phoney society and stands to make about ten fortunes on the side.  A family vault in a deserted church. A house that's never been used since it was built, except for Army stores and wenching. A grandson who's married a screwy widow with a moron daughter-- what more do you want?"

We learn of the eccentric patriarch Barnaby Shearstone, father to the three living Shearstone brothers, who built the “monstrosity” of a church that sits in the middle of an island above the quarry surrounded by four identical houses built for his sons. Two sons still live in the homes – brothers Edgar and Simeon – while the third, Amos, has not been heard of in decades. Whether he is alive or dead no one is certain. All that is known is he was upset how the business and property was dispersed unequally among his brothers and in a fit of anger he left England and dropped all contact with his family.

Canon Toft spends much of his lecturing on the strange political group founded by Barnaby - The Society of Political Rationalists.  It sounds like a forward thinking society that intends to enact change through lectures and education, but as Toft describes it in detail we learn it is actually a fraudulent charitable organization making money off of its gullible members sizable donations of money and gifts of jewelry. It also espouses some wildly nationalist views that incorporate racism, xenophobia and paranoid conspiracy theories. It is rather obvious to Mr. Ambo and Scotter that the SPR is most likely at the heart of the "secret" that Patricia and Rosalind uncovered and what led to Rosalind's violent death.

First among the many Shearstones the trio of detectives questions about the missing Patricia is her invalid father Madoc and later her haughty stepmother Judith.  There is also Manda, trailing around the outskirts of the action, who is Judith's daughter from her first husband and Patricia and Rosalind's stepsister.  Manda seems a cipher at first but will prove to be instrumental to the unravelling of the various mysteries.

Warriner has a field day with the eccentric Shearstone family. Scotter, who is never one to suffer fools gladly and always speaks his mind, has some great scenes throughout the book. He has some choice words about the rather detestable Judith Shearstone, a woman who married into the Shearstone family for money only. Then there is Simeon, one of Patricia's many uncles, perhaps the most vile of this cast of oddballs, a raving nationalist who is revealed to be selfish, craven and whining. He is the most rabid member of the SPR and has some speeches that no doubt will remind current events minded readers of the nonsense that fuels contemporary conspiracy theories.

INNOVATIONS: Each time I read one of Warriner’s detective novels I marvel at how well he manages to divvy up the action between his three sleuths. Each gets their chance to take center stage with action scenes that always add to the solution and move the story forward to its somewhat surprising finale. Much of the book is taken up with group confab scenes in which our primary three heroes all discuss their most recent findings, mulling over theories, discarding suspects when alibis prove truthful, and trying to make sense of some of the oddities that make the crimes so mysterious. While the bulk of these discussions tend to be a war of wits and opinions between Ambo and Scotter Lottie is never left in the shadows. In fact, she really shines in this book, both literally and metaphorically. Lottie brings a welcome light and rays of positivity to a tale that is mostly about a wicked family poisoned by greed and betrayal.

The title is taken from some lines Shylock says in Act 3 of The Merchant of Venice. Used as the novel’s epigraph the reference was a bit oblique even as a metaphor for me. Rest assured it is fully explained in the last paragraphs of the final chapter. They provide a neat and ironic coda to all that proceeded.

QUOTES: The glare he gave [Judith Shearstone] would have withered a Rochdale aspidistra.

“I’ve met some bright beauties in my long and illustrious career,” Scotter said as they encountered the outer air, “but that bird takes the toilet soap.”

Simeon wasn’t lying, consciously. Like most politicians, he merely had an elastic conception of truth. Truth, to Simeon, was whatever happened to be most desirable of belief at any given moment.

Simeon’s nationalist rant:  “We throw our empire to the wolves without and the opportunists within. We are perishing as the Romans perished. We bow and scrape to a system that has abolished the dignity of man and enslaved half the world. We toy with the same system ourselves; we make a man no more than a leaf on the tree of State.” He paused briefly. “But because there is no life, no volition, no powers of reproductivity in this monster we are creating, it must run down and rust when its initial impetus is exhausted. And in that moment civilisation will collapse.”

It was one of the rare moments when [Mr. Ambo] felt very close to Scotter, when all the differences between them seemed unimportant.

THINGS I LEARNED: Scotter’s dialogue is rich with colorful British regionalisms and occasional samples of Cockney rhyming slang. He says that Patricia has gone for a ball of chalk which I assumed meant she ran away. A check of a rhyming slang dictionary proved me right when it revealed that “ball of chalk” translates to walk. The phrase bob-and-nob, however, is not rhyming slang but is quite literal slang. It means a “shilling a head.”

The unusual word panjandrum turned up in one of Scotter’s frequent strings of bizarre insults. It was preceded a completely made up person and I figured the word was also nonsense. It is, but it was invented not by Warriner but Samuel Foote, an 18th century actor, as a memory test for fellow actor Charles Macklin. Merriam-Webster defines panjandrum as “a powerful personage or pretentious official” and they go on to cite the Oxford English Dictionary for the etymological history of the word. Accomplished actor and memory braggadocio Macklin claimed that he could repeat anything verbatim if it was spoken to him only once. Foote devised the following speech littered with nonsense words of his own invention: “And there were present the Picninnies, and the Joblillies, and the Garyulies and the Grand Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at the top.” He spoke the short speech to Macklin who of course echoed the words flawlessly. That speech appeared in print 75 years later in a book a of stories for children by Maria Edgeworth. Then it took another 25 years before panjandrum entered the language. I’ve not seen it in print until I read this book but Merriam-Webster cites usages as recent as 2018 in two separate issues of The Economist. I’ll bet it was the same esoteric writer in each case.

FFB: Death's Bright Angel - Thurman Warriner

It may be that Death's bright Angel,
Will speak in that chord again;
It may be that only in Heav'n,
I shall hear that grand Amen.

 -- "The Lost Chord" by Adelaide A. Proctor
Set to music by Sir Arthur Sullivan in 1877

THE STORY: Is it possible for love to cure a terminal illness? Julia Lindsey begins to believe that she has thee unusual power and is frightened by it. Andrew Quayne reveals to Julia he has cancer due to radioactivity exposure at his last job in a nuclear research facility in America. He suffers a near fatal collapse after a grueling hike in the country and Julia rushes to find help. Her fiance is rescued, taken to her home where he manages to quickly recuperate each time she holds him in her arms or touches him. Archdeacon Toft and Mr. Ambo, who helped Julia save Andrew's life, take up residence in Julia's home where she lives with her sullen and often angry artist brother Elton. While caring for Andrew the four learn that he is not suffering from radioactive exposure and cancer but instead is being poisoned by his greedy relatives who want Andrew's inheritance and get control of the family business. At least that is Andrew's belief. His relatives behavior to him, secretive and acrimonious, only serves to underscore the theory. The mystery of Andrew's illness is coupled with the strangling murder of Elton's former girlfriend, the well-liked local barmaid May Varley. It is up to Archdeacon Toft, Mr Ambo and their private detective associate John Scotter to rout out the evil, expose the murderer and end a literal reign of terror in the village of Bidderley.

THE CHARACTERS: Warriner's trio of detectives have never been more wise and affable than in Death's Bright Angel (1956). Toft pontificates and blusters like an older, wiser and more sedate version of Henry Merrivale. Mr. Ambo, in his seventies in this outing, is the kind of dear old gentleman everyone wants as his grandfather. We learn more about his past in his intimate conversations with Julia. Ambo's share of insightful observations provide clarity for the characters as they learn the differences between personality disorders, temperament and stubbornness, and genuinely evil behavior. When Scotter the 30ish private eye with good common sense and an earthy sense of humor shows up the story kicks into high action mode. Metaphysics give way to sound detection, the two suspects who seem to be very much involved in May's murder at last stop lying and deceiving and there is race to rescue one more of our protagonists from the clutches of a nasty piece of work.

Julia and Andrew provide a sweet love story that thankfully never descends into the nadir of sentimental drivel. It is Julia's fear of her genuine goodness that makes the book so fascinating. Her paradoxical dilemma provides for some suspenseful moments as she tries to figure out if it is right for Andrew to be so selfishly cared for or if she is doing him more harm than good. Her miraculous touch terrifies her and she truly believes that she might literally kill him with kindness. Her brother, Elton, is the antithesis of Julia. And he provides much frustration for both the detective heroes and the reader.

Elton is an arrogant creative type we find so often in crime fiction. He spends much of his time painting portraits, belittling his own talent, compromising his true art for commercial work for magazines and billboards, and denounces everyone and everything with bitter sarcasm. When May comes to him for money to help raise their child Elton's insensitive cruelty and his dismissal of her plight leads to her doom. Everyone in the village think his sullen moods and anger make him the number one suspect of May's strangling murder. Elton fervently denies he had anything to do with her death but a painting he gave her prior to her leaving his house is found in the fields near her body and it's nearly destroyed. Elton is hiding something and refuses to cooperate with both police and the trio of amateurs. Only when Scotter shows up and practically threatens him with not only arrest but a sound beating does Elton's seething anger explode. Elton's confesion is reminiscent of the climax of An Inspector Calls as he accuses everyone in the room of being responsible for May's murder. As he unleashes his rage he melodramatically reveals a closely guarded secret that simultaneously serves up one of the most gasp inducing surprises in the book.

Andrew's two sisters, cousin and cousin-in-law round out the cast. A more despicable trio of family members could not be found outside of a Ruth Rendell or Minette Walters crime novel. Gilbert Callas is a ne'er-do'well twit who speaks like he escaped from a P.G. Wodehouse farce with all his "Jolly good chaps" and "What ho, mate!" He is ineffectual, foolish and completely lacking in business sense. Phoebe Atwyn Quayne, the elder sister as one might imagine is as pretentious as her name -- a haughty snob who writes romance novels that despite the godawful purple prose (it's read aloud at one point) sell incredibly well and provide her with a lucrative income and entitled airs. The younger sister Tina is something of a cipher. Emaciatingly thin in contrast to her portly sister she is portrayed as a sinister woman who dresses all in black, speaks tersely and reticently, and sneers an awful lot. The only saving grace is Gilbert's wife, Mary, who is described by Mr. Ambo "as good as her very fine name". Mary is Julia's one friend never without a kind word or a pleasing laugh to lighten a story that threatens to give in to portentous anguish.

No cliché Snidely Whiplash in sight

INNOVATIONS: Warriner writes what I like to call metaphysical detective novels. Archdeacon Toft is always bringing up the topic of evil in everyday life. The villains in these novels are tainted with unrepentant amorality. Refreshingly, Warriner rejects the post-modern idea of the banality of evil. His villains are some of the most fascinating people in his novels for one never suspects them capable of the crimes described. His use of misdirection is comparable to the greats of the Golden Age and there are two brilliant uses of misdirection in Death’s Bright Angel. He certainly fooled me -- both times! In each of his mystery novels Warriner cleverly builds up his case against several suspects, providing motive and opportunity for all, but always manages to reveal the true culprit in an eleventh surprise. This is perhaps one of the best examples of the least likely character being revealed as the killer. It is truly unexpected and sort of blew me away.

The talk of evil is contrasted and amplified by the unusual plot device of Julia's supposed paranormal gift of healing Andrew's cancer. This leads to a discussion of the healing power of love that is never handled in a treacly or New Age way, but with sensitivity and intelligence. Just when it all seems to be a bit too much, a tale bordering on metaphysics and supernatural, Warriner explains all of the scheming and truly evil actions as the work of a talented and thoroughly amoral villain who not only strangles but kills with the power of suggestion.

QUOTES: Toft's retort when Elton in one of his many stubborn fits protests he is innocent until proven guilty: "A man can be guilty of monumental idiocy even if he's innocent of murder."

"Something's going to happen. I can feel it. I believe in evil as a spiritual force capable of incarnation, and I can smell its birth."

A conversation about Andrew's cancer raises thoughts on Church of England dogma and the dangers of splitting atoms:  "No children!" Elton repeated. "Oh God, that's funny! [...] it seems odd to hear a dignitary of the Church say that. Especially when one considers that the chief purpose of marriage, according to the Prayer Book, is the procreation of children."
"We probably need a revised version of the Prayer Book even more than of the Bible," the Archdeacon retorted. "Blame the times, not the Church. In Tudor days it would scarcely be anticipated that mankind would be playing with the dust of God used to build the universe."

Scotter to Elton: "Brother, they'll be making a full-page block of that picture for next Sunday's editions. Accused man's blond girlfriend. Every hag under sixty's beautiful to Fleet Street and every reporter carries a bottle of hair dye in his pocket. Circulation goes up ten thousand every time blonde gets set up in type."

THINGS I LEARNED: Archdeacon Toft describes Gilbert's "What ho" twit talk as "wizard prang." I had no idea what this meant. But as usual the internet delivereth! During WW2 the RAF pilots developed a huge slang vocabulary. Wizard prang is one of the most overused phrases of the era. The definition I found online here is "A bombing mission that resulted in a large amount of destruction." Further research revealed that prang which RAF pilots used to mean "crash" comes from the Malay word for "war". However, the correct Malay spelling is perang. Using "wizard" as a modifier was a way of making any slang term a superlative.

FIRST BOOKS: Method in His Murder - Thurman Warriner

US edition (Macmillan, 1950)

It’s rare to encounter a discussion of evil in crime fiction these days. Why is that? Why is there such a stigma placed on the word? The use of the word has not only been weakened by post-modern analyses of “the banality of evil” it has been overused in pulpy horror fiction and movies where the word is used to conjure up cliché ideas of evil residing within demons who then possess humans and “make them evil.” Evil in genre fiction, if not being discussed in medieval or supernatural connotations often goes hand in hand with religious discussions and theological concepts. Every now and then writers of the Golden Age dabbled in talk of evil but more often than not it was coupled in a plot that mixed crime with witchcraft, demonology, and malevolent ghosts. When a book like Method in His Murder (1950) dares to talk about the existence of evil among everyday humans without once bringing up the supernatural the tendency is for a modern reader to balk at the writer’s ideas or laugh at the characters or both. Thurman Warriner is one of the few crime fiction writers who can discuss evil in a grounded, humane way without resorting to heavy handed talk of the Devil or grow tiresome with the usual historical references that exemplify the evil of mankind.

Charles Ambo meets Rhoda Wainfleet, a thoroughly evil woman in his estimation, who in the first sentence arouses this visceral reaction: “…he told himself that if she were his wife, instead of John’s, his thoughts would long ago have turned to murder.” Try as he might to warm up to Rhoda Mr. Ambo is bothered by the way she seems to control her husband, undermining his well being by preventing him from pursuing his love of writing, mocking his hobbies, and in her possession and jealousy seems to be literally destroying the man’s health and well-being.

Wainfleet draws Ambo into his confidence and reveals that he has been living a double life. He has fallen in love with another woman who is the exact opposite of Rhoda. Carolyn encourages his writing and knows him under his alias of “Roger Kirton”, a well regarded novelist. Wainfleet wants Ambo to help him handle some documents that will provide for Carolyn financially should anything happen to him. Ambo wonders if Wainfleet is in fear of his life, but the question is evaded. Ambo fears his thoughts about Rhoda are worse than he imagined. Should she ever learn of the existence of the other woman it would not only by John Wainfleet who would be in danger.

UK edition (Hodder & Stoughton , 1950)

There is a party at the Wainfleet’s and John leaves with two business associates. That night one of the associates -- Rhoda’s brother Laurie -- dies in a car wreck only a few hours after John was dropped off elsewhere. An inquest follows. John has a complex alibi that seems to put him in the clear and despite the involved proceedings at the inquest he is cleared when the coroner’s jury returns a verdict of death by misadventure. Mr. Ambo, however, is troubled by that alibi. It seems too convenient and he is certain that John is not telling the whole truth. He is sure that Laurie Barton was murdered and also believes that Rhoda is somehow involved. No matter how he tries to disbelieve the verdict all evidence keeps pointing to John Wainfleet as a very clever murderer. With the help of private detective J. F. C. Scotter and his ravishing and sharp-witted secretary Lottie Mr. Ambo gets to the bottom of a cleverly engineered murder cover-up.

Throughout the tale we are treated to numerous discussions of evil. This is the first book to feature Warriner’s three series characters -- Ambo, Scotter and the Archdeacon Toft -- all of whom live in his fictional cathedral city of Tonchester. Last year I had reviewed The Doors of Sleep, another tightly plotted puzzling detective novel set in Tonchester, that touched on fundamental concepts of good and evil. Without having knowledge of this first book reading the Archdeacon’s beliefs in The Doors of Sleep came off as retro-medieval to me. But knowing that book is a continuation of the ideas set forth in Method in His Murder everything can now be seen in a different light. Here are examples of Warriner’s concepts of everyday evil:

"[Archdeacon Toft] seems to believe that the Devil has been released on parole, as it were, and that one of his minor activities may be to lure unsuspecting motorists to their doom by drawing their attention from the wheel at moments when all their efforts should be concentrated on driving."

"You’re not telling me that you actually believe in the Devil, Mr. Ambo?"

"Knowing human nature as I do, I see no harm in keeping an open mind, [Superintendent] Tydd."

Even Scotter gets into the act:

AMBO: "Could you believe that there is someone here in this town who knows John Wainfleet’s torment as well as I do, and take an unholy delight in it? Someone who thinks of his downfall as a personal triumph?"

SCOTTER: "Believe me, brother, if you’ve been a dick as long as I have you wouldn’t jib at anything. It wouldn’t surprise me if the Devil put his cloven foot down the chimney and knocked the teapot right off the table."

Later Scotter is less facetious when he gives this example:

"Remember that Nancy Cardwell case? Nice little kiddy—only seven years old. I was on the edge of it. They made out that Hanson killed her because she was identified with all the decent things he’d lost in his own life. Fellow’s in Broadmoor now. Oh yes, that sort of thing happens!"

The perspicacious summary of a child killer’s motive is telling and will come into play when the reason for Laurie Barton’s death is made fully clear. Rhoda Wainfleet is shown behaving in the same manner when she attempts to destroy a valuable Bible Mr. Ambo owns (he’s an avid antiquarian book collector) by throwing it in the fireplace. He can only see her act as one in which she tries to destroy anything that gives another person happiness. She strikes out impulsively, selfishly and callously. As bleak a portrait as she is painted Rhoda is not the only symbol of evil in this story. The culpability of all will be made apparent in the unexpected finale. While some of the criminal acts seem to be rationalized nearly everyone is shown to have succumbed to the “taint of original sin” Archdeacon Toft mentions earlier in the book.

Method in His Murder is available only in the used book market. The book was published both in UK and US hardcover editions but no paperback reprints exist that I could verify. No modern reprints are currently available in either print or digital format. Libraries are always a good bet, too. For more on Mr. Ambo, Archdeacon Toft and John Franklin Cornelius Scotter see my review of The Doors of Sleep. There is a bibliography for the entire series on that page.

FFB: The Doors of Sleep - Thurman Warriner

"Once again, " Mr. Ambo said, "we seem to be exploring those uncomfortable fringes of the mind..."

My Penguin paperback edition of The Doors of Sleep (1955) has a list of characters labeled "Present Company" preceding the table of contents. In addition to Thurman Warriner's trio of series characters comprised of Charles Ambo, an elderly gentleman; the Venerable Grantius Fauxlihough Toft, Archdeacon of Tonchester; and John Franklin Cornelius Scotter, private enquiry agent, we will meet The Rev. Howard Smeaton, Inspector Lavender, Charlesworth Vinery and family, Mary Gentle (the proprietor of a pub called "Repent at Leisure"), Amen Sleep and his improbably named granddaughter Starry Sleep. The list of characters alone is inviting enough, but then a look at the chapter titles -- all of which deal with the many metaphoric incarnations of sleep ("Into Dreadful Slumber Lulled" and "Sleep, Thou Ape of Death" are two) -- might lead one to expect a mystery novel along the lines of the sophisticated whimsy of Michael Innes or Edmund Crispin. What we get includes more than a fair share of arcane literary allusions and ample whimsy but the book also tends to veer into a metaphysical realm with a surprisingly medieval presentation of the nature of good and evil.

When the victim of the piece is introduced as a loathsome man who finds joy in all things unpleasant and whose life's goal seems to be inflicting cruelty you just know that the he will get his comeuppance. Charlesworth Vinery is literally a hellion on wheels. Confined to a wheelchair for a mysterious crippling ailment that has no biological cause he nevertheless manages to commandeer and intimidate all who meet him. His favorite target for his very special brand of spiteful mindgame play is his young wife Alyson who in the recent past was in love with his younger brother Amos, a professional musician and composer. Alyson seems immune to her husband's odious behavior  suffering in silence, actually laughing and smiling it all away. Deep down she is tortured as Warriner lets us know all too frequently.  Toft and Ambo fear the worst among this trio. As Charlesworth continues his lifelong campaign of nastiness and knowing that Amos has a very short fuse Mr. Ambo predicts an explosion of violence that may lead to someone's death.

Vinery disappears one night. His body is found in two different locations by two different groups of characters at two different times. Revealing any further details of either location or the circumstances of Vinery's death will truly spoil the reading of the book. Suffice to say, the crime is macabre and the displaying of the corpse is one of the most unique aspects of the detective novel. Simultaneously the most puzzling and intriguing plot point the explanation of the scenes of the crime will uncover both the why and the how. Typical of Scotter, a detective in name only who provides the common sense angle, he makes a sweeping generalization based on what he sees: "What you've got, without any frills, is the old collusion and conspiracy story." And it certainly seems that way for much of the book. The truth will be anything but glib.

Beginning with the setting, a group of Sussex villages known collectively as "the Slumbers", extending to the Sleep family and to the haunting orchestral work by Amos Vinery that gives the book its title The Doors of Sleep is literate to the point of distraction. Indulging in an Ellery Queen-like fascination with the word "sleep" the book contains an intoxicatingly rich use of all the metaphoric possibilities of the word, its meanings, connotations and opposites. Sleep and wakefulness, hypnosis, unconscious thought, and of course death -- all can be found within the pages of this detective novel that meanders its way inexorably down a path of Old Testament inspired morality. Charlesworth Vinery is indeed a nasty piece of work. Malicious, passive-aggressive and cruel -- none of these traits can be denied. But wholly evil? A Satanic incarnation? Evidence of superstitious practices and folkloric spell casting turn up. Our trio of detectives are just as easily swayed by their discovery of a waxen image as they were by Vinery's "evil eye" and his skillful manipulation of language.

Are there any photos of Warriner
without him holding a pipe?

Mr. Ambo even confesses half jokingly, "Yes, it smacks of the lusty Middle Ages" at one point. And any modern reader would agree. The use of the word evil crops up more frequently towards the close of the book. It seems too simplistic at first, rather off putting, a bit laughable, like the kind of ominous language spouted by crucifix wielding vampire hunters in Hammer horror movies. Better to weakly and awkwardly describe the pervading menace throughout the story as 'ungoodness'. Sometimes evil as such is better left unnamed.

Archedeacon Toft best articulates this concept when during the course of the murder investigation the three men infiltrate Vinery's forbidden sanctuary, a room no one was ever allowed to enter. It's an oppressive space, heavily curtained to block out all light. Ambo and Toft feel the presence of something ineffable. Even Scotter gets the willies. They all need to leave almost immediately. Toft conveys the importance of what they experienced in the room:

Perhaps we all saw the evil in our own minds or the things that we fear the most. Go into any dark room sometime, Scotter. Block up your ears and nostrils and lie so comfortably that the sense of touch is scarcely stimulated. What is left is the real you. [...] No, we're not wasting time, considering these things. They've a very real bearing on all these troubles.

I feel compelled to make one tantalizing allusion of my own. The book ends in a climax that seems directly lifted from a famous Hitchcock movie. Among Thurman Warriner's many odd jobs prior to his career as a novelist was "cinema technician". Could this be a fancy way of saying he was a movie projectionist? Knowing he must have spent hours watching movies I find it hard to dismiss the influence of this very well known movie which was in theaters several years prior Warriner's book being published. The similarities of the movie's finale and the thrilling last pages of The Doors of Sleep are hard to overlook. I won't mention the name of the movie or once again I will ruin the completely unexpected action sequence.

There were only eight novels in this series featuring Ambo, Toft and Scotter. Of these books only the first was published in both the US and Warriner's native England making it difficult for us on this side of the Atlantic to find any of the other books. However, The Doors of Sleep primarily because of its Penguin reprint edition is the title easiest to find. This is one of the most unusual mystery novels I've read this year. Apart from its overarching morality it was also the most satisfying read as a mystery novel for it encompasses so many connotations of that word, just as it explores all facets of the word "sleep."

Warriner is better known under his pseudonym Simon Troy his identity reserved for exploring crime in a variety of "psychological suspense" novels that sound reminiscent of the best of Highsmith, Rendell and Robert Bloch. He was praised by Francis Iles who said of one book that sent his spine "into cold storage":  "...goes to the top of the Horror Class." I've already purchased a small pile of Troy books (much easier to find in multiple US editions) and will be reporting back on those in the coming months. What I've sampled of Warriner has whetted my appetite for ample second helpings.

Mr. Ambo, Archdeacon Toft and
John Scotter Detective Novels
Method in His Murder (1950)
Ducats in Her Coffin (1951)
Death's Dateless Night (1952)
The Doors of Sleep (1955)
Death's Bright Angel (1956)
She Died, Of Course (1958)
Heavenly Bodies (1960)

* * *

Reading Challenge update: Golden Age card, space D5 - "Book involves the Clergy or Religion."
And this makes BINGO #2 in the fifth row.