MOONLIGHTERS - Lesley Frost, the Poet's Daughter

Part of discovering so-called forgotten writers and their books is that the discovery is actually more of a recovery. These books already exist and the people who wrote them may have been forgotten by the mystery reading public but often they are actually renowned. Witness Lesley Frost, whose only foray into adult mystery writing is Murder at Large. At the time of the book's publication she was known as a former employee of the Publisher's Association, an airplane factory worker during the summer and fall of 1918, and spent six months in the Hampshire Bookshop in Northampton, Massachusetts. All this according to an author bio sketch on the rear flap of the DJ for her first novel.  She also mentions that she opened her own bookstore in Pittsfield (also in Massachusetts) in 1924.  Her only book prior to the murder mystery was Come Christmas (1929), "a delightful anthology of Christmas songs, carols, poetry, prose and drama." But I don't think she was ever forgotten to many.  She was, after all, the eldest surviving child of America's renowned Poet Laureate, four time Pulitzer Prize winner for poetry, the one and only Robert Frost.

But let's get to this rather remarkable and utterly forgotten detective novel. Murder at Large (1932) is first and foremost noteworthy for it's eerie similarities to a novel that would not appear for another seven years, one that would dominate mysterydom as a rule breaking, seminal work. Often imitated but never surpassed that book is And Then There Were None (1939).  I was astounded by the similarities in Frost's archly satiric and sophisticated murder mystery which in addition to an innovative plot is chockful of literary allusions from Shakespeare to Kipling, from Euripedes to S. S. Van Dine. She seemed to have prophesied Christie's novel in a completely different fashion as the skeletal framework of Bristow & Manning's The Invisible Host (1930) seemed to prophesy Christie's story of ten murderers who escaped justice and are doomed to be executed while they struggle to survive on a remote island.

Though Frost's host is hardly an anonymous voice imparting doom from a record player there is nevertheless a Judge present in the story. He is, in fact, the host of a similar dinner party. Bertrand Whittaker plans to expose a group of murderers by publishing his private diary in which he details the identities of seven different criminals and the murders they got away with. Shortly after reading out a passage in which he embarrasses one guest by pointing out his connections to gangsters the lights go out and the diary is stolen. Only hours later, someone is found stabbed to death. But surprisingly it is not Judge Whittaker. It is one of the guests. That one murder sets in motion a decimation plot as one by one guests begin to vanish or turn up dead, all done in by an efficient and clever murderer who uses a variety of brutal methods.

Though these guests are not housebound they are on an island -- Long Island, NY to be specific. As the bodies are discovered all over the house and grounds the level of fear and paranoia is handled almost as deftly and frighteningly as the Grand Dame did herself in her own version of a now overused plot motif. Two of the women characters have intriguingly presented solo chapters in which we get to see their nervous breakdowns and the aftermath of dealing with the exposure of their crimes. One of the women spends much of the book regretting her crime (she shot her fiancé because he wouldn't marry her even though she was pregnant), reliving her past and dwelling on it all morbidly.  It's all very similar to the way Vera Claythorne is plagued with guilt over the boy she let drown. 

 
One difference in Frost's book is that the police are summoned and descend upon the house. As they sort out who killed three guests in one hour and try to prevent further deaths (they don't -- three more die and one escapes death through sheer luck by the book's finale) the amateur sleuth Ordway Belknap does his best to guide the seemingly inept policemen headed by Lt. Det. Silas Berry and Sgt. Stebbins to the truth. Belknap is another Philo Vance clone, one of many who pop up in mystery fiction throughout the 1930s when Vance was the dominating amateur sleuth in popular culture. Erudite, condescending and inappropriately flippant in the face of violent death we are told in the very first sentence that Belknap is himself a former judge. Well, actually an ex-magistrate. He and Whitakker have not only a history in and out of the courtrooms they have a couple of secrets that several of the accused murderers are trying to uncover.

Though it may come across as a nightmarish thriller Murder at Large really does turn out to be a detective novel. Some fair play clueing turns up in some cleverly done passages and the book ends with a requisite twist in the finale, one perhaps that may not be too difficult to figure out by diehard detective novel fans.  Still, Frost manages to pull off the finale with panache and sardonic wit. The ultimate similarity to And Then There Were None will be found in the final pages which just like Christie's book comes from the writing of the judge character.  It is uncanny how much this book has in common with Agatha Christie's masterpiece. While not exactly on the same par for there are a couple of histrionic scenes, some stilted dialogue, and hand-wringing melodrama from the more hysterical characters, Murder at Large ought to be read by anyone who considers oneself a devotee of the Golden Age. I think it ought to be recognized for being more of a forerunner to Christie's seminal mystery than all the attention lavished on The Invisible Host which only has the anonymous host's voice on the record and several bizarre murders in common.  It's possible that Agatha read both books and took bits and pieces from both to come up with her own inimitable version.

Lesley Frost Francis Ballantine (1899-1983) was the oldest daughter of Robert Frost. Of his five children Lesley lived the longest. After the publication of her Christmas anthology and this murder mystery she turned to writing children's books and often lectured on English literature. Among her children's books are Digging Down to China, Not Really, and Going on Two. In 1969 she also published a memoir entitled New Hampshire's Child: The Derry Journals of Lesley Frost.  During WW2 she was named head of the U.S. Information Library in Madrid and 20 years later founded a Spanish language and culture school in La Granja where she had a home.  Most interestingly, in 1952 she co-founded a third national political party, the American Women's Party, meant to get women elected into policy-making positions in federal government. That same year she married her second husband Joseph Ballantine who was involved in foreign affairs in Asia. With her first husband she had two daughters: Elinor Wilber, a Connecticut state representative, and Dr. Lesley Francis. Lesley Frost died in Fairfield, CT at the age of 82.

EASY TO FIND?  There are several POD editions of Murder at Large offered for sale online.  I cannot vouch for any of these copies, most seem to be from Create Space, Amazon's POD service. One has an anime style illustration on the cover (rolling my eyes).  Three US 1st editions are offered online and priced a bit high despite the book's scarcity.

The Case of the Missing Sandals - Nancy Barr Mavity

THE STORY:  James "Peter" Piper, bespectacled, lanky reporter "with an ugly face" working for the Herald somewhere in northern California, is allowed access to the murder scene at a religious cult's colony. The victim, the domineering cult leader who calls herself Luna, claimed to be a witch in league with Satan. She is found both stabbed and shot, her hands bound in a strange fashion with the cord taken from a green and red bathrobe. Even more peculiar is she is found barefoot.  Earlier the same day she was killed Piper had a brief interview with Luna related to an accusation of the theft of $10,000 from one of her followers, He had seen her striking black satin sandals and knows she would never be caught dead without them. And yet she was. What happened to the shoes?  And why was she both shot and stabbed?

THE CHARACTERS:  The first half of The Case of the Missing Sandals (1930) deals too heavily with Earl Vincent who wrote some love letters found on Luna's body. He is the prime suspect for the police and the fact that he fled California on a freighter further underscores his probable guilt.  Several chapters are devoted to finding Vincent. Piper and police pursue the freighter and try to intercept it with a tug boat but Captain Marquand refuses to stop for the tug radioing the police that they will have to wait for the freighter to pull into port in Los Angeles.  When the ship arrives and the crew depart they discover that Vincent has vanished from the ship.  After another protracted pursuit Piper tracks down the young man and forces him to tell an elaborate story that convinces Piper that the lovelorn boy, supposedly in love with the murdered cult leader, is innocent of the crime. The police, however, refuse to look further than Vincent.

Once Piper turns his attention on the Luna Colony, the book becomes interesting, less laden down with monologues and overwriting, and focuses on detective work. Piper uncovers multiple suspects each with their own peculiar motives. Among the more fascinating characters are:

Ruth Morgan - Earl Vincent's girlfriend who serves as a foil for Piper.  She is determined to clear her beau's name announcing she is willing to do anything to find the real murderer.  In a chapter well past the midpoint she and Piper engage in the requisite tabulation scene in which Piper reviews all suspects, their motives and opportunities while Ruth listens patiently sorting out the probable from the preposterous and often ending each summation with her verdict of "not proven."

Frances "Frank" Hodgson - of all the suspects Frank is the most unique.  She dresses in men's clothes, professes an obsessive love for Luna and is caught by Piper at the murder scene long after police have left searching for what she claims is a special perfume Luna used to make for her. Based on her frantic behavior and twitchy nerves Piper sees through her lies, immediately coaxes a confession from her. She is a drug addict looking for her fix. Turns out Luna was not only a cult leader but a drug dealer. The more we learn about Frank the more we discover that she is a lesbian. Mavity is never daring enough to come right out and use that term however, but couches it all in euphemism and baroque phrases: "But this woman was patently one of Nature's tragic misfits, a victim of the warping fate that had veered her life away from its normal channels." Mavity goes on to describe Piper's assessment of Frank's personality (who he insists on calling Frances though she prefers Frank) with great empathy and feeling. When he sees that Frank is using her left hand due to an injured right hand he starts to formulate a theory that she could have killed Luna. The murderer stabbed Luna in such a manner that reveals a left handed assailant. And still listening to her story and seeing how she left behind a vase of cut flowers for her crush Piper confesses he is "somewhat more sympathetic to the murderer than to the victim." It is a poignant sequence in the book -- one of many such sympathetic musings for a misfit suspect. Still as is often the case in early 20th century fiction Frank is yet another gay character painted as disturbed and doomed: "Just how far toward madness her jealous obsession might have carried her he could not guess."

Albert Jackson - the blind caretaker and gatekeeper at Luna Colony.  Jackson, a Black man, is no stereotype or comic figure, thankfully.  He has two dignified scenes of gravitas with Piper towards the end of the book during which he likens himself to Piper. Both manage to see the truth, he tells Piper, while others live in darkness. There are interesting contrasts between real faith and spirituality and the pursuit of false idols also mentioned in these scenes. Mavity manages to pull off these scenes with a sophisticated touch using simple language and metaphor, never resorting to heavy handed preaching. Albert is a finely drawn character, perhaps the wisest of all people Piper meets and interviews.

Charlie Russell - A young cult member sent to the Luna Colony by his mother to be cured of a so-called bewitchment she feels has cursed her boy. Piper knows this is all superstition for it is obvious that Charlie, in both physiognomy and behavior is mentally deficient. His facial feature are described in such a manner as to match those of children born with what was once called Down's syndrome, now known as trisomy 21. When some new details about the case are revealed Charlie becomes the new lead suspect in the eyes of the police.  Charlie's presence, yet another outlier in this myriad cast, allows for Piper once again to show his emotional side.

Carey - Apart from Mrs. Russell Carey is Charlie's only ally and protector.  Described by Piper as a colorless, bland man not much older than Charlie he is something of an enigma. He appears to be one of the "true believers" of the Luna Colony. Later he refers to himself as an occult researcher.

Oscar Miller - One of Luna's many lovers and the object of envy and jealousy among many of the male members of the Colony.  He is seen hiding something of great importance in the hole of a tree trunk.  Piper later retrieves this object and confronts Miller.  He also owns a rifle that matches the caliber of the bullet used.  In fact, many of the characters own rifles that could be the murder weapon.

Amos Perkins - a mystery man who hires Harrison, a hire-powered lawyer to represent Earl Vincent. A handwritten note is sent to Harrison asking that he prove Vincent is not guilty of the murder.  Enclosed with the note is $1000 in cash.

INNOVATIONS: When Mavity finally gets down to brass tacks after the Earl Vincent section is disposed of The Case of the Missing Sandals is truly an intriguing, complex and engrossing mystery novel.  Piper is very much in line with the many reporter sleuths of early 20th century detective fiction. Ostensibly passing himself off as a cynic he is, in fact, a humanitarian with an open mind and a skill at abstract, often wildly imaginative, thinking.  In the tabulation sequence Piper finally reveals to Ruth Morgan that he is convinced that the solution of the case lies not in factual analysis but to put oneself into the mindset of someone wholly devoted to the world of superstition. The murder is almost ritualistic what with the strangely colored cord used to bind the victim and the outrageous use of two murder methods to kill Luna. The placement of love letters on her breast after she was dead and -- most importantly -- the removal of her shoes both seem to underscore a kind of supernatural ritual, or a curse placed upon her. Ruth Morgan tries to accept  Piper's theory as a possibility but it all sounds too outlandish to her practical mind.

Of course, Piper is on the right track. For in the end it all really comes back to the title of the novel.  While perusing a non-fiction work called Witches Still Live -- an actual book by Theda Kenyon published in 1926 by Ives Washburn (see photo) -- Piper stumbles across the reason Luna's shoes were stolen. Armed with this arcane trivia and with the help of Andrews, his photographer colleague at the Herald, he sets a trap for the murderer in a well done, somewhat stunning, finale.

QUOTES: Piper: "The story isn't dead, even temporarily. [...] There are angles to it -- angles and angles. And while the other reporters are all enjoying the lull and concentrating on Vincent, I'll be out angling the angles -- a regular complete angler I'll be."

Piper: "When you try to figure [all these motives] together, its enough to make you dizzy. And as for proof-- say, if I saw one single little sold fact that didn't change its shape while I was looking at it, I'd faint from sheer amazement!" 

Jackson: "There's two kinds of darkness. There's them that walks in darkness because they can't see their way ahead, and there's them that have eyes and see not. It ain't your fault if it's still dark. You used your eyes as good as you could. That's how I know you're him that was sent. The spirit of darkness is on this place. The spirit of fear is on it. You can't see it, and you can't touch it, but you can feel it. Because you can feel the thing that can't be seen, you'll use your eyes to see when the light comes. That's why you were sent."

 Jackson: "Facts are dangerous things to throw around when you don't know the meaning of 'em."

THE AUTHOR:  Much to my surprise Nancy Barr Mavity (1890-1959) has an entire Wikipedia page devoted to her life and work as a journalist, novelist and author of non-fiction works.  I won't bother to repeat any of it here.  But I will draw your attention to her book Sister Aimee (1931) published one year after this novel was released by Doubleday Doran's Crime Club.  Sister Aimee was the first full biography on Aimee Semple McPherson and it's not too coincidental to draw comparison between that charismatic evangelist (possibly a criminal and fraud) to the power mad, exploitative and cruelly Satanic Luna who dies so horribly in this detective novel. Apparently many of Mavity's crime novels are based on true crime cases.  Further details on which cases inspired her novels can be found in an introduction written by Randal Brandt, research librarian and curator of a crime fiction library at UC/Berkeley, that appears in the Penzler American Mystery Classics reprint of The Tule Marsh Mystery, Mavity's debut novel as a detective fiction writer.

EASY TO FIND? Several copies of the US edition are  available for sale from a variety of online bookseller with prices ranging from  $14 for a reading copy to $48 for a VG copy.  There is one copy with a VG+ dust jacket priced at $425.  I found no UK editions for sale.  I did not look for copies in internet archives but there may be one out there. I have a copy of this book myself, but will not sell it as it is signed by the author and inscribed to her fellow California journalist Alma Whitaker. Took me a while to decipher the addressee’s last name, but that’s definitely the name. In the brief inscription Mavity calls Alma "Best of the Good Scouts", a term Piper also uses to describe his co-worker Andrews, the photographer. A photo of the smeared inscription is included in this post.

Murder at the World's Fair - Mary Plum

THE STORY:  Charles Graham makes a visit to Chicago's Century of Progress exposition and while passing through the Belgravian Pavilion he sees a man open a doorway. The man's hand is covered with blood and he immediately closes the door.  Charles follows him into the room and sees another man stabbed lying on the floor.  He is clearly dead. A shattered vase is nearby. Charles says they must call the police. The bloody-handed man, Paul Melitti, refuses and instead calls the expo's security chief, Gordon Taylor. While Melitti leaves the room for a brief time Charles calls his friend John Smith, a private detective. And the chase is on to solve the crime!

THE CHARACTERS:  John Smith appears in four of Mary Plum's detective novels; this was his last appearance. Within a few sentences it's clear he is yet another in a long line of Philo Vance imitations -- flippant, arrogant, insensitive, dispassionate and ridiculously knowledgeable about all sorts of minutiae.  Around the midpoint his snooty persona is toned down a bit, he seems more tolerant and slightly likeable, but he still seems to know way too much about what's going on and does much of his detective work offstage similar to all those know-it-all Vance wannabes back in the late 1920s.  The final chapters are overloaded with character monologues revealing some of the work and research Smith did far away from Graham who acts as the primary protagaonist and amateur detective.

Initially, the case is about the stabbed man, Stepan Trino, and the search for a killer and motive.  The shattered vase is involved in his death and there is a twin vase that also figures in the story.  Two women, Jenny Dale and Rita Hathaway were invited by Trino to visit him in his office. Jenny is supposedly a dead ringer for Trino's dead daughter Madelon and while I thought this intriguing detail would be instrumental in the plot it's merely a red herring. However, Trino presents Jenny with the twin vase, some kind of Asian artifact with dragons painted in yellow on blue porcelain and this gift will be very important. She leaves his office the day he is murdered with the vase hastily wrapped in a wad of newspaper. Her pal Rita ridicules her for carrying the sloppily wrapped package and kids that they won't be admitted to their swank hotel by the officious and snobby doorman Dmitry. Charles is distracted by all these details. Smith takes this all in stride and focuses instead on the two men with Jenny and Rita who were seen by Graham at a dance hall. Smith is sure he knows one of them -- Dan Harlow, the man who seemed to be Jenny's date for the late afternoon.

Shortly after the murder investigation begins Jenny is abducted from her hotel room and the story suddenly shifts into a pursuit thriller. The mystery of who killed Trino all but vanishes. All energy is devoted to finding out who took Jenny, where she is being held, and why the second vase ended up shattered in her hotel bathroom.

Plum has a deft hand at creating unusual characters. Her woman characters tend to be more interesting.  Rita Hathaway, an utter smart aleck, proves to be a handful for both Graham and Smith. She is an expert at sarcasm and ridicule and it takes some effort to break through her coolly aloof facade. Slowly, Graham realizes that she may have orchestrated the abduction.  He begins to follow her doggedly using taxis, cars and several times pursuing her on foot. A key sequence takes place in a seedy part of Chicago's south side near 23rd Street.  The novel reaches its climax at this location.

I liked the chapter where Smith visits Trino's apartment and questions the no-nonsense landlady, Mrs. Bord. Smith notices a kind of fortress built in her outdoor garden filled with booby-traps. She explains she devised them to keep vandalizing teens and marauding dogs out of her vegetables. She's a great character. She also refuses to allow anyone into Trino's room. In fact she can't let anyone in because she gave him the only key. We learn all about Trino's highly secret life and that Mrs. Bord asked no questions as long as he paid his bill on time which he did well in advance. She Aldi liked that Trini was neat and private, never had any guests. In her opinion he was the best kind of tenant.

Another intriguing scene with an unusual period historical detail takes place at the hotel after the abduction. Most of the guests are anxious about letting police into their rooms, several of the guests protesting heatedly. The cops expect these protests, they're used to them. Those guests, they tell Smith, need time to get rid of their bootleg booze. Happens all the time in hotel searches.

THE SETTING: Much of the Chicago settings are accurately described even to the old time reference of Michigan Boulevard instead of Michigan Avenue which though renamed in 1910 didn't come into regular usage until after WW2. A reference to the "near north" surprised me. One of the standard terms for the neighborhood north of the Loop and south of North Avenue I thought this was a fairly recent label, but clearly was in use back in Prohibition era. I get the feeling Mary Plum was a real Chicagoan although on occasion some odd British syntax and phrases slip into the writing like the use of "stopping in" a hotel instead of "staying in" which is the usual American phrase.

Seems the south side was already becoming rundown in the early 1930s. Plum enjoys writing about dilapidated buildings like a boarding house where Dan Harlow and his friend Pete Johnson are staying which is contrasted with the luxury hotel where Smith and Graham have rooms. There's another scene in a depressing, sparsely frequented, restaurant with a sad clientele that is particularly well done too. Finally, Johnson is followed to a ramshackle converted farmhouse that seems to date to the 19th century.  Charles spies on Johnson and Rita from an ancient barn on this property and hides out in what he thinks is the former hayloft.  He is startled by a gun toting visitor and the story takes a huge twist during this sequence.

As for the Century of Progress only a few pages are devoted to the exposition. We get some nice detail about where the fair takes place, the architecture and how its bright colors and varied buildings are contrasted to the huge Columbian Exposition and its "White Palaces" of the previous century.  Later in the book Plum adds some more details about the attractions, mentioning the famous Skyride, the lagoon and some other buildings. But that's it for the Century of Progress. The fair itself serves only as a setting and nothing in the action really relates back to anything about the actual Century of Progress. Instead, the fictitious Belgravian Pavilion will feature in the plot and the entirely fictional political intrigue  of Belgravia will reveal the motive for all the various crimes including the murder of Stepan Trino.

THINGS I LEARNED: The Century of Progress actually had two seasons. The first big exposition ran from May 27 - November 1, 1933.  The second season began on June 1, 1934 and ran through Halloween of that year.  I was confused when Plum writes that the fair will end on October 1, assuming 1933 since that's the date of publication of the book. Maybe some editor failed to catch the error. 

A strange neologism occurs twice in the story:  one-idead.  This is an adjective that Charles uses to describe Pete Johnson's obsession with Rita. The word looks very weird to me. Plum means "one idea-ed" or more accurately monomania.  Either monomaniacal or obsessive would have been a better choice, I think. I've never seen that word spelled that way nor have I heard it used in everyday speech.

EASY TO FIND?  Not at all.  I found my copy several years ago on eBay and it's an ugly, beat up reading copy. There is only one other copy for sale from a reputable antiquarian dealer who specializes in vintage books in period dust jackets. He has a much better copy of the book with the attractive DJ as seen at the top of this post. My poor copy is up on my eBay listings for an affordable price if you are interested in reading the book. The UK edition was published as The Broken Vase Mystery (Eyre & Spottiswoode, 1933) but I found no copies under that title on any online bookselling sites. Neither did any free copies at internet archives, but I don't really look too hard for them. There may be one somewhere out there.

John Smith Detective Novels
The Killing of Judge McFarlane (1930)
Dead Man's Secret (1931)
Murder at the Hunting Club (1932)
Murder at the World's Fair (1933) 

 

The Death Film - P. R. Shore

"Wonder of wonders! Miracle of miracles!"

This seems to be the year during which half of the books on my want list have turned up for sale. And of course I pounced upon all of them.  Of the final six books on a want list I have on various bookselling websites three turned up this year and I managed to buy two of them.  One of those books is The Death Film (1932), the astonishingly elusive second novel by "P. R. Shore", pseudonym of Helen Madeline Leys.  I forked over the most money I've ever paid for a single book but didn't think twice about it. Was it worth the hefty price tag? Read on, my friends.

Readers of this blog may recall back in 2011, the very first year I entered the world of vintage mystery and supernatural fiction reviewing, I wrote up a brief piece on The Bolt (1929) by P. R. Shore.  This was Leys' first attempt at a detective novel and it was one of the best I've read of its decade.  Seemingly formulaic being set in a quaint English village and focussing on the summer fete The Bolt actually pre-dates most of the well-known village mysteries including Murder at the Vicarage which introduced Jane Marple to the mystery world.  It truly is one of the more original and innovative detective novels of the era. From the bizarre murder weapon employed, an "elf bolt" (basically a prehistoric stone implement), to the unusual characters who act as amateur sleuths The Bolt is one of those books I was hoping some enterprising reprint house would reissue for an eager public. Though I tried to tempt Tom Schantz of Rue Morgue Press back when he and his wife were cranking out delightful reprints he apparently didn't think it was the kind of book for his audience. No reprint ever materialized.

And how does The Death Film measure up to that debut? Well, it's a 180 degree turn from the traditional English village mystery found in the pages of The Bolt.  What we get is a full-on police procedural with a methodically detailed investigation and a lead inspector helped by a savvy sergeant who likes to "theorize."  The story seems simple at first with two primary suspects but soon becomes ever complicated due to deceit and lies. Inspector William Gray and Sgt. Phillips have their hands full trying to sort out truth from cover-ups.  Largely thanks to the insights of a boy who works as a doorman at the Palace Cinema and a teashop owner with a remarkable memory the police are eventually put on the right track of a villain who was hiding in plain sight.

The Death Film of the title is a bizarre science fiction/crime film called The Death of the World. Released as a silent movie in this new era of cinematic sound it has impressively become the local cinema's hit, selling out regularly to large crowds, many of whom return for another viewing. One of the patrons never makes it out of the theater alive.  After the third screening Ethel Jones is found stabbed with one half of a scissors stuck in her. The police are fairly certain based on the wound in her right neck that she was stabbed from behind. Possibly someone seated next to her could've killed her. Audience members and employees are thoroughly questioned.

Gray soon learns that Miss Jones had an odd relationship with her employer Algernon Banks, a married businessman known to be too friendly with single women. She was invited to Banks' home on a few occasions to "finish up work" because the offices got cold late at night. Mrs. Banks suspects her husband of philandering. Smart lady. A few days later Banks' home is burglarized and Mrs. Banks is suspected of faking the break-in to cover up her snooping into her husband's private files which her kept locked at all times.

The other primary suspect is a musician who plays in the orchestra pit at the Palace Cinema. Ronald Mason is a multi-instrumentalist playing both piano and violin and primarily worked when silent movies were being shown. Ethel was attracted to Mason and we learn that she was pathologically jealous of all women who paid even the slightest attention to Mason.  Sgt. Phillips' first "theory" is that Mason and Pansy Stevens, a flirtatious cinema usher, colluded in a plot to kill Ethel Jones.

Then there is the odd box office worker Isobel Warren who raises suspicions due to her sly manner of answering Gray's questions and her many insinuations about the female staff at the Palace. But Isobel also seems to be one of Ronald Mason's many admirers and Gray is certain she is cleverly creating a smokescreen to shield the musician from being arrested. From her colleagues Gray and Phillips learn that Miss Warren was formerly a nurse prior to her job at the cinema.  Her medical knowledge inspires Sgt. Phillips to spin another one of his theories. The more Gray deals with Miss Warren I got some heavy-duty Irene Adler vibes.  She is so wily, so mocking of Gray's police techniques, that she seems to have been inspired by Holmes' memorable rival. In fact, at one point there is this exchange between Gray and Miss Warren:  

Gray: "My dear lady, I suspect everyone."
Isobel Warren: "Quite right. I deserved that, Mr. Holmes." 

Gray, unlike many of the fictional Transcendent Detectives of the early 20th century, is filled with self-doubt and curses himself on every other page. As he interviews suspects Leys allows us to know his thoughts (a bit clumsily rendered as dialogue) especially when he gets the answer he was expecting. This is also one of his flaws. Even though he chides Phillips for his many theories Gray is one of those cops who has his own theories and foolishly tries to fit the evidence to his ideas. Only when he gets the valuable eyewitness testimony from young Henry Bates, the Palace doorman, coupled with Margery Benson's amazing verbatim report of overheard conversations in her tea shop does he begin to learn that the truth is far more useful than any theories.

The Death Film unravels at a brisk pace with multiple surprises as the investigation continues. Ultimately, the plot involves one of my least favorite crime fiction motifs - drug smuggling - but getting to that final revelation makes for engaging, entertaining, and -- on occasion -- suspenseful reading.  Leys may not have been as innovative or witty as she was in The Bolt but her second foray into crime fiction has its moments not the least of which is the unique scene of the crime and the exploration of how an early 20th century British cinema operates.

FIRST BOOKS: The Swan Island Murders - Victoria Lincoln

There is nothing more upsetting than falling for the hype on a book jacket. The Swan Island Murders (1930) with its striking Art Deco influenced illustration of a silhouetted damsel being threatened by claw-like hands and the promise of "mystery, horror and detection" was enough to lure me in. While there is plenty of mystery and a smattering of rudimentary detection on display there is little horror to thrill a 21st century reader.  This is a book of its age when its intended audience surely would've been thrilled by the exotic and bizarre plot elements but which led me to spend time on outside research as I found fault with the author's supposed arcane knowledge of Indian religion and mythology that dominates the story,

The story mostly involves the guests at an impromptu house party hosted by wealthy eccentric Nahum Gould, a collector of Indian esoterica and a variety of Southeast Asian artifacts. The rear of the book jacket leads one to believe that the poor souls stranded on Swan Island are at the mercy of a mad strangler. This is not the case. Two Portuguese immigrant workers are strangled over the course of the novel (so a partial truth) but none of them are major characters at the house party. Instead, the focused crime is that one of the guests is shot dead, a presumed suicide for much of the book. The editorial staff at Farrar & Rinehart seemed more intent on selling the book under false pretenses and playing up to the contemporary demand for sensational popular fiction.  Had they told the truth about the book they would've been "spoiling" the surprises. Of course, I think nothing of diving right and telling you that this book is really about abnormal psychology and monomania related to arcane Indian mythology and its effect on Indian criminal culture.

Connie Steel is our narrator very much modeled on a Mary Roberts Rinehart amateur female detective easily affected by eerie atmosphere and with a tendency to talk about madness far too often. Swan Island, as you might predict, is a fog enshrouded lonely place and Gould's mansion is an imposing and dreary, shadow-filled haven well suited for a reclusive eccentric obsessed with the Mysterious And Inscrutable East. Victoria Lincoln does an admirable job of laying on thick this atmosphere of dread signalling "horrible things to come" with typical HIBK prose like "...but that boat was to come and go again without carrying any one of us away from Swan Island." More typical are Lincoln's florid stylistic touches like this: "How dreadfully right I had been...when I had thought that all our proportions were chemically incorrect, and that some cataclysmic reaction was bound to take place."  This odd chemistry metaphor pops up two times later in the book. She heightens the mystery and terror when we learn that Nahum Gould is so fearful and paranoid he has turned the house into an impenetrable fortress. All the windows have steel frames, there is only a single key for every door lock in the place with no copies and only the butler Gomez or Gould's secretary Torres are allowed to keep these original keys. Gould himself keeps only the key to his bedroom which has a heavy oak and steel door, steel enmeshed windows and other security overkill enhancements making his bedroom more of a prison cell. He speaks in a hushed voice of keeping "It" out and is constantly on guard, especially at night .

Needless to say someone manages to kill the playwright John Parsons and as Connie and her fiance Edward Benedict soon discover the murderer can only be one of the four remaining guests, Gould, or one of his employees. Gomez has a son Joe with developmental delay who in true period fashion is referred to as "the idiot" throughout the novel. Though he is slow to comprehend anything asked of him Joe's father says the boy can have days when he is perfectly lucid. Joe is the first one suspected of being the mad strangler and also the shooter until the stunningly beautiful (she has to be, right?) Nana Moeller, a German actress about to appear in Parsons' latest play, insists that she knows John committed suicide. There is evidence to disprove this suicide theory and that the death is a cleverly covered up murder. Not the least of these clues is a blood stained book written in Urdu that has vanished from the library when Parsons was shot.

A blood stained book written in Urdu?!

This is the single most interesting facet of the novel. Not to mention Lincoln's most macabre and original touch. It will prove key to the solution of all that is baffling about the strangling murders as well as John Parsons' death. Unfortunately, the revelation in the final chapters is so far removed from a fair play traditional detective novel that it called to mind the most popular American detective of the era -- Philo Vance.  I'm sure Victoria Lincoln read her fair share of both Rinehart and Van Dine prior to writing her first mystery novel because apart from the Rinehart style narration, and the Rinehart-like emphasis on terror and madness infecting everyone, ultimately the book is an esoteric treatise much like a Philo Vance detective novel. Thankfully Lincoln spares us pedantic footnotes, but the final chapter is overloaded with arcane trivia about a criminal subculture that thrived in 19th century India. Sadly, the finale is also littered with misinformation and poorly Anglicized spellings of terms and mythological figures and haphazardly mixes fact and legend. I had to sort it all out in about 90 minutes of internet searches and reading up on the incarnations of Kali until I found Bhawani which is the modern spelling of what Lincoln renders in her novel as B'wannee. She also seems to believe that T'huggee (once again her odd spelling) is an actual religion rather than a criminal class.

Victoria Lincoln, age 26 (circa 1930)

THE AUTHOR: Victoria Lincoln (1904 - 1981) was born in Fall River, Massachusetts and claims (on her author bio on the DJ for this mystery novel) that as a child she managed to make the acquaintance of that town's most famous resident Lizzie Borden. She attended Radcliffe College and graduated in 1926. The same year she married her first husband Isaac Watkins who was a graduate student in fine art at Harvard. She had her first child, Penelope, with him. A few years after her first novel was published she divorced Watkins and in 1933 married Victor Lowe, professor of philosophy at Johns Hopkins University.

Her New York Times obituary mentions only her mainstream novels and her non-fiction but not her debut novel, The Swan Island Murders, her first and only foray into mystery and thriller fiction. Among her other works are February Hill (1934) adapted for the stage by George Abbot under its new title The Primrose Path. In 1940 The Primrose Path was made into a movie starring Ginger Rogers, Joel McCrea and Marjorie Rambeau who was nominated for an Oscar for Best Supporting Actress as a mother who turns to prostitution to support her family. Lincoln's other fiction includes Grandmother & the Comet (1944), The Wind at My Back: Three Short Novels (1946), Celia Amberley (1949) and Out from Eden (1951). Notable among her non-fiction works are the Edgar Award winning biography/true crime work A Private Disgrace: Lizzie Borden by Daylight (1967) and her last book on the life of St. Theresa of Avila. She lived with her husband Victor Lowe and her family in Baltimore until her death in 1981. 

FIRST BOOKS: A Man Died Here - Gina Dessart

THE STORY:  Liz & Bob Macklin purchase an old home in Marshall, Massachusetts and begin an extensive rehab project transforming the gloomy, dark paneled, house into a bright, livable home. Liz is curious about the former owner, Seton Williams, who died in the house several years ago. Cancer she's told was the cause. A lonely old man dying alone, she thinks. But who was he? One day at the post office the gossipy Postmistress Mrs. Moore asks Liz, "Why did you buy the Williams house?  A house where that man killed himself?" Liz is shocked by this news. Why did the estate agent lie to her about Mr. Williams' death? She begins a subverted investigation making her way through the neighborhood ostensibly getting to know her neighbors when in fact she is slyly inserting questions about the house and the man who died there. Some townspeople offer up tidbits but clam up when Liz presses on with specific questions. Why is it no one wants to talk about Seton Williams, his death, or his family? Fighting common sense Liz and Bob keep digging and soon learn that perhaps the past is better left untouched.

THE CHARACTERS: A Man Died Here (1947) has an abundant cast of characters apart from the husband and wife amateur sleuths.  The novel is also written in the author omniscient voice allowing the reader to know the private thoughts of every character including the most minor characters like Jacob Kingman whose wife Harriet died by suicide years ago. As the novel progresses Dessart focuses on the Williams family and a handful of Marshall's residents including:

Miss Greeley - The high school principal who is beginning to lose her grip on reality as she spends much time dwelling on the lives of two of her favorite pupils, now grown adults. Her daydreaming and nostalgia lead her to spend too much time thinking about Seton Williams' death when Liz keeps asking prying questions.

Mrs. Moore - an inveterate gossip the local postmistress is responsible for re-opening the past with her casual but intrusive question to Liz about why she moved into the Williams house. Each time Liz runs into Mrs. Moore she gets more unusual info about the Williams family.

Prentiss Williams - the only member of the Williams family who left town for a successful life. Now a general practitioner with several patients in neighboring Colby, Prentiss is still troubled by what happened to his father. He and his brother seem to have a secret between them. When Liz uncovers a trove of letters hidden away in books left in the Williams’ library we learn that Prentiss had a violent argument with his father a few months before he died.

Henry Williams - youngest member of the Williams family and a rather sad man. He took over the family hardware store begrudgingly and never really seemed to get along with anyone let alone his father.  Luckily, he and his brother are close, but Henry can't understand why Prentiss was so antagonistic to the old man. He is sure Prentiss had something to do with their father's death.

Dr. Kilander - was at the Williams house to pronounce the old man dead.  One of the few witnesses to see exactly how the body was found he relates some crucial info to Bob & Liz when they hound him for details about the night Seton died. 

Mrs. Chmielewski, the Williams housekeeper; her daughter Agnes; and Blanche Milliman, a girl who died in a drowning accident also feature prominently in the plot.  Liz and Bob begin to wonder why so many young women who crossed paths with Seton Williams die violently. The more they uncover about this supposedly lonely old man they more they learn he was malevolent, licentious, cruel and cared little for anyone but himself.

INNOVATIONS: Dessart starts off her novel in a dreary outline of Liz and Bob house hunting, some pedestrian small town interactions almost as if the book will be a soap opera-like litany of mundane observations.  But it's a sly move because this seemingly prosaic beginning slowly gives way to the timeworn exploration of a town's populace haunted by violent death. The narrative voice Dessart adopts allows her to leak into the story, in a mixture of subtle and overt clues from a variety of character viewpoints, just exactly what took place the night Seton Williams died. Though the detective work is minimal and largely relegated to Q&A and the discovery of letters which are rendered in full into the narrative, there are a couple a notable scenes.

Liz decides to visit the local cemetery and almost by accident finds the gravestone of Blanche Milliman whose drowning death also seems to hold some of the townspeople under a spell. She spends much of this scene wondering if Seton Williams' grave is also in the cemetery. Eventually she finds it in a far corner of the yard in the dark shade of a hemlock tree. It's an eerily conceived scene and adds some much needed atmosphere to a novel that tends to skirt around the edges of mystery and violence.

Perhaps the highlight of the book (maybe the purpose that Dessart wrote the book) comes when Bob and Liz have a debate about whether they should continue with uncovering the truth about Williams' death which by this point they realize is a cleverly covered up murder. They have a dilemma: do they report what they've discovered? Do they leave it alone? Liz argues for a murder committed by a vigilante Good Samaritan and that perhaps the murder of Williams brought more good than bad. Let that person get away with it.  Bob tells her murder is murder no matter the motive. He cannot justify letting the culprit escape no matter if the end result was beneficial for many people.

By this penultimate chapter it becomes clear that Dessart has been exploring something resonant with our time of podcasts obsessed with true crime, the resurrection of cold cases and the desire to seek justice for unsolved crimes. Should a criminal be sought out after decades have passed? Is vengeance a moral solution? Where does forgiveness enter the picture? If a murder occurred that brought about good and happiness was the crime a just murder and was the killer a hero? All these idea float around the periphery of the story until Liz and Bob finally voice them in their at times heavy-handed conversation.

QUOTES:  Bob: "So--having detected to the extent of discovering the murder, I guess it's up to us to go on detecting until we find the murderer. Only God knows where we begin."

Liz: "But if Mr. X is a truly fine person, would you agree that it might be a special case, sort of?"

Bob: "...I thought it was all nicely set up with black is black and white is white. Damn it all, how can I tell at this stage of the game?"

THE AUTHOR: Georgine Belle Dessart (1912-1979) was born in Chicago but spent her youth in and around Long Island, Brooklyn, and Syracuse, NY as well as a brief stay in Germany. She attended Smith College but was compelled to end her studies after her second year.  She and Phillip Hildreth (soon to be her husband) borrowed $50 and went into business doing silkscreen printing and display advertising. They quit the business after about five years and moved to the Berkshires in Massachusetts. In the mid-1940s she began writing as a "retirement venture."

She credits becoming a mystery writer with the bizarre educational experience of learning French while in a German school while she was still mastering the German language. "Any child lost in three languages simultaneously is apt to be marked for life and end up as a mystery story writer," she wrote on her biographical sketch on the rear DJ panel of A Man Died Here.  

Dessart had a story published in Mike Shayne's Mystery Magazine ("Counterpoint" in the Nov. 1965 issue) as well as other stories published in several noteworthy literary journals like The Virginia Quarterly and The Literary Review. Her three crime novels were written and published between 1947 and 1959. While her first, A Man Died Here, is heavily inspired by detective fiction the later works are more geared toward domestic suspense. Her third novel, Cry for the Lost (1959), takes place in a desert town called San Paulus no doubt based on Tucson, Arizona where she and her husband settled and where she was lecturer in English and a creative writing teacher at the University of Arizona in the mid-1970s.

The Snare of Circumstance - Edith E. Buckley

THE STORY  Elmer Bliss, reporter, is hired by a mysterious gentleman called Philander Summerfield to look into a recent Peter Somhers murder case that he believes was never solved. Bliss has been fascinated by the case because Somhers' nephew, Harrison Milbrath, was tried twice for the murder. In the first trial he was found guilty then he and his lawyer appealed due to an abundance of circumstantial evidence that should not have led to a guilty verdict. In Milbrath's second trial he is acquitted. Summerfield offers Bliss $20,000 to find the actual murderer. With such a sizeable reward Bliss is keen to turn detective and discover the real murderer of Peter Somhers.

THE CHARACTERS  In the second chapter Buckley introduces Murray Kilbourne, "by predilection a sleuth of no mean ability."  We learn he turned to criminal detection after leaving college. He inherited a fortune from an uncle and in order to claim that money the will had a proviso that Kilbourne was instructed to give up detective work and "devote his energies to the cultivation of his literary talents."  Kilbourne pops up at various points in the early portion of the novel,  but then leaves the country. To me his inclusion is utterly superfluous. Buckley makes it seem that Bliss and Kilbourne will be a team similar to Holmes and Watson, but Kilbourne is actually the worst kind of bogey character.  He serves absolutely no purpose. It was the only irritating part of the book.

Elmer Bliss is, in fact, the real sleuth and he proves to be far superior to Kilbourne who allows his libido to intrude and cloud his judgment in the detective work.  The real sleuthing team tuns out to be Bliss and Harrison Milbrath. The two join forces at the midpoint when Bliss uncovers a secret that Milbrath was hoping no one would learn. The revelation of this secret binds them in a friendship and strengthens Bliss's resolve to repair Harrison's reputation damaged after being found both guilty and not guilty of a single crime.  Together they are sure that once the "snare of circumstance" is finally lifted the young man will be able to carry on with his life both professionally and personally without shame or ignominy.

Philander Summerfield is indeed a mystery man making his first appearance in the first chapter and then vanishing for the remainder of the book. Or has he?  An elderly bearded man matching Summerfield's description and behavior is frequently seen around the Somhers estate by several witnesses that Bliss questions during his investigation.  Is Summerfield spying on Bliss?  Or is this a Summerfield look-alike?

Dolores "Dolly" McClure is the mystery "woman in white" (an obvious nod to Wilkie Collins) that BLiss follows for several days before he discovers who she really is. This young beauty stirs the hearts of all young men who meet her and is rather obviously involved with Harrison though it takes both Bliss and Kilbourne several days to figure this out. Her scenes are some of the strongest in the first half of the book when Buckley is setting up her intricate plot and layering multiple secrets and ambiguities into the story. She is willful, forthright, witty, a bit of a tease, and on the verge of heartbreak. When she learns that Bliss is intent on clearing Harrison's name she becomes one of his closest allies.

Chauncey McClure, Dolores' grandfather, lives nearby the Somhers estate and swears he has seen the ghost of Somhers wandering the grounds late at night. There are some very eerie sequences related to this eyewitness account.  Chauncey also provides a bit of gentle humor prior to his confession of ghost sighting.

Hutton, the station master for the local train depot, is one of Elmer's best sources. Hutton is a born gossip and a fine raconteur.  Elmer Bliss learns more than he ever hoped for from the many stories Hutton cannot help but share.  The most intriguing of his tales is the past history of Somhers building a wing onto his library, a retreat from noise, servant gossip and other intrusions and distractions.  Bliss believes there is also a hidden room (possible influence of Carolyn Wells?) somewhere within this building addition. Hutton also reveals he has seen an old man with a gray beard frequently visiting in town and that he arrives and departs on the train headed fro Boston. Bliss is sure this proves that Summerfield is indeed following him and keeping tabs on his investigation.

Jim Arms and Horsford seem to be the two primary antagonists. Each man lives on the Somhers estate and while Horsford, a caretaker of sorts, has a wife and daughter, Arms is a single man. Arms is the more villainous of the two men holding a grudge against Harrison for years and responsible for testimony that led to the first trial finding Harrison guilty. Bliss suspects that Horsford has secrets and knows more than he is willing to tell. Certainly Horsford's daughter has a piece of information that she is holding close and Bliss suspects she is protecting her father. Ultimately, Bliss will gain one of these men as an ally in an unexpected turn of events around the novel's midpoint. 

INFLUENCES  The Snare of Circumstance (1910) was published at a time when Conan Doyle and all his Holmesian tricks were still the primary influence of neophyte detective novelists. Buckley's novel is one of the finest examples from this nascent period of detective fiction in America. It's all the more remarkable for being her only detective novel and having received numerous rave reviews ranging from H. L. Mencken in the May 1910 issue of The Smart Set ("...well worth the money asked for it.") to the unsigned review in The New York Times March 19, 1910 ("...one of the few [detective novels] which...carries the reader without a hitch. The plot is...most ingeniously carried out. At no point can the reader guess the surprise finally sprung upon him.")  She has clearly drawn from several of the Holmes stories (alluded to by both reviewers, BTW) and in particular borrowed one iconic scene from The Hound of the Baskervilles where Holmes tries to prove a person's identity using a portrait painting. In Buckley's case it is not a painting but a photograph that proves the identification. Bliss does exactly what Holmes did:  he covers up a beard to leave only the eyes and face.

There is another novel that has major influence on the plot, too. Buckley mentions the book outright in the final chapter, but neither the title nor the author can be named, lest I giveaway the crème de la crème surprise.  Let me only remark that this influential novel held sway over several detective fiction and thriller writers from the 1930s through the 1960s who were keen on introducing psychological terror into their plots. Prior to this novel I had thought the earliest use of this familiar motif was in a book published in 1933. Always eyebrow raising to find yet another example and one so early in the 20th century. Buckley's may be, if not the first, one of the first American detective novels to employ this particular psychological plot motif.  For contemporary audiences in Buckley's day it must certainly have been a shocking finale.

THINGS I LEARNED  I was certain that the book took place around 1908 but automobiles are rarely encountered.  Instead there is a type of vehicle I'd never heard of. Bliss employs an early form of taxi called the herdic. As more and more herdics pop up in the story, I was starting to reassess the time as the late 1890s.  At one point there is a herdic chase and Bliss actually says, "Follow that cab!"  In any case, a herdic is a horse drawn taxi with side seats and a rear entrance. The vehicle is named for its inventor Peter Herdic who designed the carriage in 1881.  I found several photographs and drawings of them and chose the best example to include in this post.  There is an excellent history of the herdic and its Pennsylvanian inventor with several illustrations and photos here.

QUOTES Bliss:  "[Horsford] implied that there is a 'real ghost,' but it was to the atmosphere of mystery and danger that he referred. I dare say this man of yours has seen the ghost!"

McClure: "It is only recently that I have indulged in speculation of [unpopular thoughts], but I have had an experience that sent my thoughts in channels quite out of their usual run. Wild as the statement may sound to you, it is a fact that I, too, this summer, nearly two years after his death, have seen the spirit of my old friend, Peter Somhers!"

McClure: "But Mr. Bliss, the figure was not an illusion. Phantom or man it was real, and individual, and if it was not a 'materialization' some one on earth has a wish to give color to the sentiment against the place." 

Dolly: "You know what Tennyson says...? 'But a lie that is part a truth is a harder matter to fight.' That was the case with the testimony of Jim Arms; only the truthful part was so exceedingly small. Now that he has convicted Harry to a living death he is not content. He dares to sneer at him..."

EASY TO FIND?  Having been out of copyright for the past 16 years The Snare of Circumstance has been snatched up by the POD People. Several affordable paperback copies are available from a couple of print-on-demand outfits like Forgotten Books. I'm sure a copy has been uploaded to one of the many internet archives as well. Those seeking out the handsomely designed hardcover from Little, Brown & Company (shown throughout this post) with four original illustrations by Arthur E. Becher can pick from six different copies offered from online sellers. Prices range from $17 - $75 in various states of condition from reading copy to very good. I also found one Canadian edition, one of the better copies, priced at only $20. Happy hunting!

MOONLIGHTERS: Collin Brooks - Journalist, Broadcaster, Writer of "Shockers"

Reporters always seem to be the best crime fiction writers. Collin Brooks is one of better journalists turned detective novelists that I've encountered in my vast reading of the genre.  His first "shocker" (as he preferred to call them) Mr. X was published in 1927. He joins the ranks of fellow Brits and former reports B.L. Farjeon and Edgar Wallace along with a slew of Americans like Lawrence Blochman, Daniel Mainwaring (aka "Geoffrey Holmes"), Dorothy B Hughes, and Deloris Stanton Forbes. The tradition of journalists who become successful crime fiction writers has continued to the present day with a slew of them often topping best seller lists like Laura Lippman and Michael Connelly. The combination of discipline for deadlines and interview skills must come in very handy when plotting a crime novel. And of course many of these journalists were crime reporters giving them insight into the workings of police procedure and the court system.

Found Dead (1930) was Brooks' sixth crime novel, a true detective novel unlike many of his earlier thrillers and introduced Oswald Swete McTavish, punningly referred to as "Oh Sweet McTavish" throughout the story. McTavish has many similarities to early 20th century amateur detectives and yet both adheres to and defies all traditions of the typical fictional sleuth of the era. He is independently wealthy, has held a variety jobs, and is highly eccentric in manner and speech.  The front cover of my reprint edition likens him to Sherlock Holmes, but McTavish is far from the egocentric dispassionate icon of detective fiction. On the contrary, McTavish is immensely likeable, witty, warm and generous in spirit. He is not without his moments of arrogance but they are infrequent and often tinged with a ironic humor.  One of the most unique aspects of this book is that McTavish discovers his skill in sleuthing in the moment and it develops over the course of this first book.  He is not an established inquiry agent, he decides to become one and enlists the help of two witnesses to a crime as his colleagues.

The book opens with a young women fixing her broken suspender (a stocking garter for us Yankees) on a sidewalk.  Our narrator, Armistead (no first name given) freezes on the sidewalk just behind her to admire the young woman's leg and her provocative pose.  As Armistead is eyeing the woman McTavish comes rushing out of a building and collides with him.  Just then the woman screams and come rushing at the the two men recovering from their crash and she grips both of them crying out "A dead man!" As she was adjusting her garter she has seen a dead body through the window of the basement.  This all happens within the first chapter and the action is non-stop from then on.

Amy Renton, the young woman, eventually is hired to be McTavish's secretary in his instant decision to become a private detective and Armistead is enlisted as his Watson. Both of them will have fine moments to show off their innate talents at detection.  Both are intelligently drawn characters with keen insights and understanding of criminal motives. Interestingly, Brooks has Armistead take over at the climax of the novel and travel to Barfield, a small town in Yorkshire, where many of the puzzling mysteries will finally be explained. Armistead has about four chapters of adventures on his own in which he meets a variety of people who speak openly and frankly ranging from a cheerful and garrulous travelling salesman to a stock in trade gossipy hotel maid.  He also meets and befriends a tobacconist, a barmaid, a junior reporter at the town's local newspaper and finally Amy Renton's mother.

It is, however, McTavish who is the star of the novel. His physical appearance is most striking, especially his large head and unusual facial features consisting of high forehead, long nose and jutting chin leading to a weird comparison to Punch from the famed puppet show. Later we learn that Inspector Ipps enjoys a relaxing hobby of making puppets. Allusions to Punch and his trickster ways involving the hangman puppet in the Punch and Judy shows crop up often.

One of McTavish's many side hustles is writing detective novels. He has published a handful of them using the pen name "Alfred Bruce."  His books are often referred to over the course of the novel. At one point Amy decides to read one and is appalled at the lurid and gruesome nature of the story making her wonder about the turn nature of O. Swete McTavish.  McTavish loves to ruminate about a case while wearing a fez (his thinking cap or sorts) and puffing on a porcelain pipe. He pontificates on a variety of topics -- often in an odd stream of conscience -- and somehow makes it all seem relevant to the strange murder of the man found garrotted in the basement.

Much of the first half of the novel is spent trying to ID the corpse who had no identification on him nor any laundry marks on his clothes. McTavish, to the surprise of everyone, predicts a second murder and when it happens not far from his home the police begin to suspect the eccentric detective as masterminding all the crimes. Amy even begins to suspect him and voices her fears to Armistead in a scene where she lucidly and logically explains exactly how all evidence seems to indicate McTavish is the killer. Inspector Ipps of Scotland Yard in charge of the case is also on the trail of McTavish.  Could our affable detective hero actually be a cruel and sadistic villain?

Found Dead is a corker of a novel. From the bizarre murder weapon to the highly unusual motive for the murders this book is teeming with innovation and excellent writing. Brooks has created vibrant characters, sparkling, often witty, dialogue and filled the book with action and unusual settings. One of the most outre scenes takes place in a Turkish bath just before Armistead sets out for Barfield. At the bath he is approached by a man who seems to be following him. The dialogue exchange is sprinkled with sinister innuendoes and the two men clad only in towels and sweltering in a sauna begin to see each other as adversaries. The stranger even hints to Armistead that a sauna is an excellent setting for the perfect murder -- isolated location, limited exits, steam acting a fog to obscure one's vision. It's the creepiest set piece of the novel. 

photo by Howard Coster, 1935
Courtesy of National
Portrait Gallery website

THE AUTHOR:  William Collin Brooks (1893-1959) was born and raised in north of England. After brief early careers in accounting and as a commercial traveller he took to journalism. In 1913 he founded the Manchester Press Agency and two years later joined the British Army. After his service in World War 1 he wrote for various newspapers in Liverpool, Yorkshire and London ending up as editor at the Financial Times. In 1933 he began working for the Sunday Dispatch where he eventually became Editor.  Between 1927 and 1951 Brooks wrote about 14 novels a mix of thriller, horror and detective novels. He also used the pseudonym “Barnaby Brook” for nine mainstream novels, usually of a romantic nature. In addition to fiction Brooks wrote several non-fiction books covering everything from journalism to economics. He even published two volumes of poetry.  Eventually he became involved in radio broadcasting appearing regularly on Any Questions? and The Brain Trust for BBC Radio. Of his five children, his youngest daughter Vivian Collin Brooks (1922–2003) also became a crime fiction writer and published books under the pseudonym "Osmington Mills", the name taken from a coastal village in Dorset. 

THINGS I LEARNED: When McTavish learns that one of the suspects is named Pedro he describes the name as transpontine. I thought: "Does that mean between the bridges?"  I was close. The dictionary definition is "on or form the other side of a bridge". How on earth does that apply to a First names, you may wonder (as did I)? In the late 19th century transpontine was often used to denigrate melodramatic and sensational theatrical productions which were located on the other side of the Thames, hence the other side of the bridges. McTavish's bit of ambiguous dialogue runs: "He apparently rejoiced in the commonplace and transpontine name of Pedro. Half the faithful muleteers in popular melodrama are called Pedro." Context is not too clear here and I was forced to look up the word to figure out what seemed like two non sequiturs.

Another odd word crops up during the steam bath scene when Armistead calls the sinister gent valetudinarian after he remarks that it's not a good idea to sip water while in a hot room because of the possibility of getting a stomach cramp. (Never heard that one before!) The multi-syllabic word describes  a person who is anxious about their health. A pompous and antiquarian synonym for germophobe, I gather. 

QUOTES: Inspector Ipps on McTavish's stream of conscience style monologues: "You ought to have been a dutch-auction merchant or a camp meeting peanut seller. As a tracer of lost persons your verbal flow is wasted."

McTavish to Armistead: "...when I suggested that I was keen upon finding the murderer of that poor fellow you said that amateur detecting wouldn't work outside the pages of a seven-and-sixpenny thriller, because life is too sane and humdrum. And I replied that it is the novelist's fictional world which is sane and humdrum, because no novelist dares to suggest one tithe of the oddities of life or to use a first-rate coincidence for you. Well, here's a first rate coincidence for you!"

McTavish on his intuition: "I only guessed. I have medals and cups and shields and things for successful guessing. My two hobbies as a boy -- guessing and floating. The modern worship of athletics. The cult of strenuous life. When I wasn't guessing, I was floating. Sometimes as I floated I guessed whether if I turned over I'd be able to swim. Fortunately I never tried."

EASY TO FIND?  Of all of Collin Brooks’ crime novels Found Dead was apparently the most popular.  It was published in three separate editions between 1930 and 1950.  The 1950 hardcover reprint with pictorial covers (shown in the middle of this post) is still offered for sale and at affordable prices. I turned up about eight copies from various online sellers and I'm sure a copy or two may turn up in libraries in the UK, Australia or in used bookstores. It most definitely ought to be reprinted. Innovative, intelligent, and well plotted Found Dead is highly original on so many levels for a GAD book published in 1930.  Happy hunting! 

 

Notice to Quit - James Quince

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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