Monday, November 30, 2020
Book Challenge by Erin 14.0
Sunday, November 29, 2020
2021 Alphabet Soup--Author Edition
2021 Alphabet Soup Challenge
The Sittaford Mystery
The Sittaford Mystery (1931) by Agatha Christie is a non-series mystery (no Poirot, no Miss Marple, not even Colonel Race). It opens at Sittaford House in a small village on Dartmoor. Mrs. Willett and her daughter Violet have rented the house in the country from Captain Trevelyan. The villagers all think it a bit odd that the ladies from South Africa would want to come to the middle of nowhere in the dead of winter--but there's no telling what foreigners will do, is there? The ladies are quite outgoing and issue invitations to call to all and sundry. Captain Trevelyan is a self-declared "woman hater" and refuses all advances.
But that doesn't stop the ladies from having regular dinners and little parties--even when it's snowing like no tomorrow. The story opens with one such party. Captain Trevelyan's long-standing friend, Major Burnaby, Mr. Rycroft. Mr. Ronnie Garfield, and Mr. Duke all brave the winter storm to attend. But due to the heavy snowfall, the Captain isn't expected to make it from Exhamptom--his current place of residence while the Willetts occupy his home. And he doesn't.
When it becomes apparent that they all don't play bridge, it's suggested that they indulge in a harmless bit of table-turning. It's all fun and games until the spirits suddenly tells the group that Captain Trevelyan is dead. The spirit's communication ends with a single word...M-U-R-D-E-R! At first they assume that one of the group is just playing a somewhat morbid joke, but there's a certain unease and Major Burnaby, who had declared it all "Tommy rot!" before they began, becomes worried. Since it's an evening that he and Trevelyan normally got together for chess and acrostics, he decides to venture out into the snow and walk the six miles to his friend's place.
When he arrives, he can't get an answer to his repeated knocks and peals of the doorbell so he drags the local constable and doctor away from their warm fires to help him investigate. They find the captain dead from blow to the head with a sandbag...and if the doctor's estimate is correct, he was killed at 5:25 pm--the exact time of the spirit's message. Inspector Narracott is summoned from Exeter to sift through the clues and suspects. All of the Captain's relatives inherit equal shares of his rather large fortune and all but one have alibis. When it's discovered that James Pearson was actually on the spot at the right time and that he has a very pressing need for cash, it looks like the police will have a quick wrap-up to the case. But Pearson's fiancée knows her Jim and knows that he couldn't possibly kill anyone. Not that he's a saint...but she knows what his limits are. So, she forges an alliance with a willing young reporter and sets out to prove Jim's innocence. It isn't long before she provides the police with broken alibis and a renewed cast of suspects.
An entertaining read from Dame Agatha. I spotted the murderer right away, but I'm quite sure that was because I've read the novel before. I know that I didn't figure it out the first time I read it. And I'm pretty sure who I chose as suspect #1 before, because s/he tempted me into changing my mind again this time around. This is classic Christie with several possible solutions, red herrings galore, and all the clues on display. I gave the story four stars the first time I read it and I give it ★★★ and a half now--only because she didn't quite fool me on the re-read. She very often does--if enough time has elapsed between reads.
First line: Major Burnaby drew on his gum boots, buttoned his overcoat collar round his neck, took from a shelf near the door a hurricane lantern, and cautiously opened the front door of his little bungalow and peered out.
Last lines: "She never gave him the chance," said Mrs. Curtis. "Ah!" said Mr. Curtis.
Deaths = (one hit on head)
Saturday, November 28, 2020
Mortmain Hall (2020) by Martin Edwards
The drawing is an optical illusion Clever artists delight in them. Your eyes are drawn to a picture. But on a second viewing, you realize that you're looking at something else entirely. That's the way I feel about this gathering here at Mortmain Hall. We're seeing one thing, but something very different is going on, without us even realising. Right in front of our eyes. [Rachel Savernake]
The theme of this book is "the perfect crime." We're clued in to that from the very beginning--in the unusually placed excerpt from the Epilogue where an unknown (at least at this point) man is dying and Rachel Savernake is speaking with him. He knows that she has discovered the truth about what he thought was a perfect crime. And now she wants him to fill in and/or confirm details.
Then we're whisked back to the beginning. Rachel Savernake prepares to board the Necropolis Railway, but she is not a mourner. Her mission is an attempt to save a life--the life of a man who is supposed to be dead. But the man is too afraid to admit his identity and won't take the lifeline she offers him. And he winds up dead (again) on the railway tracks. Her interest in the forces that sought to silence Gilbert Payne lead her to investigate a series of murders: the death of a tramp in a blazing car; a woman strangled in seaside bungalow; and a husband drowned in a freezing lake. In each case the most obvious suspect is proven not guilty through a last-minute witness or someone else conveniently commits suicide, leaving an apparent confession or a hostile judge prejudices the jury in the suspects favor. Rachel is convinced that these cases have a connection--but what can it possibly be?
Jacob Flint, crime reporter, is in attendance at the blazing car trial and he--like everyone in the court--is amazed when an eleventh-hour witness comes forward to clear the accused. But his reporter's sense tells him there's more to this than meets the eye and when Rachel invites him to her house and suggests he also take a look at the write-ups of the other deaths, he starts an investigation of his own. His questions put a few noses out of joint and soon he's warned off by Inspector Oakes of Scotland Yard. Oakes has received word through mysterious channels leading to his superior. He doesn't really expect Flint to heed the warning...and he's right. Flint keeps on and finds himself framed up for murder. It's only through quick thinking on both his and Rachel Savernake's part that keeps the frame from sticking.
Also on the scent of mystery surrounding these deaths is Leonora Dobell, an eccentric female criminologist, who lives at Mortmain Hall on a secluded coastal estate in the north. She decides to invite those who have recently escaped the clutches of the law--as well as Rachel Savernake--for a weekend house party. She presents them with an audacious conclusion to her researches and then the house party ends abruptly when death strikes once again and their hostess disappears. Was the death the accident it appears or is part of a plan to commit the perfect murder?
This is the second of Edwards' Golden Age historical mysteries and I enjoyed it every bit as much as Gallows Court. Perhaps even more--because as I mentioned in my review of the previous book, the one slight quibble I had was a bit of a deficiency in fair-play cluing. I can't complain about that this time. The clues are all there for those who can catch them. And for those of us who can't, he has provided a "Clue Finder" section (as appeared in numerous mysteries written during the Golden Age) that shows us exactly what clues we missed. It was good to visit with Rachel and the Truebloods (her loyal servants/friends) and Jacob again. Rachel has her own style of investigations and justice which may not suit everyone, but I do appreciate her strength of character. And don't think that I've given anything away by mentioning the perfect crime--twice. The perfect crimes just may not be exactly what you think. A very fine addition to the series. ★★★★★
First line (Epilogue--which appears at the beginning): The man was dying. He knew it and so did Rachel Savernake.
First line (Chapter One): The ghost climbed out of a hackney carriage.
Last line: "Yes," she said, "he died."
Deaths = 12 (one ran over by train; one drowned; two strangled; one beaten; one natural; one shot; one stabbed; two fell from height; one house collapsed on; one poisoned)
A Halo for Nobody
A Halo for Nobody (1947) by Henry Kane is the first of his Peter Chambers series and it features quite a murder fest. Peter Chambers is the tough guy, rougher half of Scoffol and Chambers, Investigators. One evening he is an eyewitness to the murder of Rochelle Curtis, wife of the wealthy Blair Curtis who owns half of an elite jewelry business. But when Blair Curtis approaches him to investigate it isn't his wife's murder that he's most interested in--it's the fact that he thinks he's being blackmailed. Getting to the bottom of the blackmailing business, will lead him to find connections between Rochelle's murder, the death of Joe Pineapple (one of the men involved in Rochelle's shoot and run death), as well as half a dozen more deaths including that of a reclusive, wealthy bookmaker. Curtis doesn't think it really has anything to do with him or his circle...Chambers may just prove him wrong.
Kane's story takes us on fast-paced journey through seedy dives and upscale clubs with equal abandon. Chambers may walk the mean streets but he glides easily between the two worlds and just as easily sidesteps threats from both the upper class and the denizens of New York's underworld. Along the way he manages to collect quite an arsenal of hand weapons from those looking to ensure that this case is his last...he'll prove them wrong as well.
Hardboiled crime fiction isn't my usual fare and for those who like this sort of thing, I'm not sure that it's the most shining example. But I liked it. There was something about Chambers and his methods that just clicked with me. It's amazing that he didn't get knocked off several times in this book (but then Kane wouldn't let that happen to his hero, would he?). I did enjoy how one of the suspects underestimated him and misjudged exactly what Chambers would or wouldn't do. Not that the estimation was all that misguided given past performance, but Chambers has a few tricks up his sleeve that he only uses when necessary.
Certainly not a fair play mystery, but I don't expect that from this type of crime fiction. A fun, fast-paced read that made for an enjoyable afternoon. ★★★
First line: I saw the thing happen, and in a cockeyed, roundabout way I was mixed up in it, so the policeman had every right in the world to ask questions.
Last line: "Ah," I said, "the lovely Lolita..."
I fully realize that the man was trying to do his job of work and I was doing my darnedest to be nice and proper and placid, but his method and his manner were about as efficacious as sandpaper on the rough edge of a tombstone, and it was becoming irritating. (p. 5)
Deaths = 9 (eight shot; one fell from height)
Monday, November 23, 2020
The Whispering Death
The Whispering Death (1947; 1st US printing*) by Roy Vickers
The Whisperer holds all of London in a grip of terror--holding innocent victims for ransom and killing whenever his demands are not met. Using the fairly new wireless technology, he has devised a diabolical system that prevents his targets from lining up police help in advance. A bag with a wireless set is delivered to the target, who must don the headset and follow the hoarse whispered instructions exactly as they are given. Only one step is revealed at a time, so they never know where they're going or what they must do. So far, Scotland Yard has been powerless to stop the reign of terror--each time the Whisperer escapes their grasp and too many times a lifeless victim has been left behind.
Then the Whisperer sets his sights on Roland Blatch. Roland wouldn't seem to be an ideal target--he's a lowly secretary pulling a mere six hundred pounds a year--just enough that he and his girl Joyce Merrow can now think about getting married. He rather imprudently (as it happens) tells her not to worry about the Whisperer--he'd never go after people like them who couldn't pay up. But Roland has forgotten that his employer, Sir Henry Glazeborough, had given him the keys to a safe where 80,000 pounds of jewelry was stored....
The next thing he knows, he has received a threatening note telling him that Joyce has been kidnapped and also one of those dreadful wireless boxes. When he dons the headphones, he is told in periodic bursts of instructions to go and remove the jewels from his employer's safe, take a taxi to Liverpool station, which train to take, and then upon seeing a black flag signaling along the tracks to toss the bag with jewels out the window. Even having a Scotland Yard man pick up his trail immediately and accompany him on his little journey doesn't prevent the Whisperer from getting what he wants.
Joyce is released and Roland is happy for that--but he knows he can't face his employer. He's now a thief--even though an unwilling one. When a phone call comes telling him that he can throw his lot in with Whisperer, he decides to play a risky game. He'll join up with the Whisperer all right...but only so he can wreak revenge on the man who dared to threaten his girl and who ruined his career. What follows is a high-octane adventure where Roland does his best to outwit the cleverest criminal in London. He'll endure several hair-raising episodes, including two attempts on his own life--but will our hero win the day?
Vickers has put together a fine example of the "innocent man pulled into situations beyond his control." Roland is a brave, intrepid hero...willing to beard the lion in his den. The thrills and the ambiance of 1930s London is perfect and keeps the reader turning the pages. The only (small) downside to this exciting action/adventure mystery is that the identity of the Whisperer is all too obvious. But Roland holds up his end of the show so well that we don't mind too much. ★★★★
First line: Nine-thirty to ten-thirty--the slack hour of a London evening. In the lounge of a well-known hotel-restaurant a few late diners were taking their coffee.
Last line: "Oh, by the way, as a temporary detective for a period of five days, you're entitled to six pounds fourteen shillings and expenses."
*1st British printing, 1932
Deaths = 3 (two poisoned; one shot)
Sunday, November 22, 2020
The Shadowy Third
"Alibis, alibis, he added bitterly. I never heard so many alibis. You'd think somebody was printing the damn things and selling them on street corners."
Dave Calder, former attorney, has set up shop as a private investigator. His first job is for an old friend in the insurance business--find out who has stolen the priceless Stradivarius violin belonging to Igor Krassin, the renowned violinist. The violin disappeared from backstage at the concert hall where Krassin and the orchestra practice and perform. A successful investigation means $6,000 for Calder...a very welcome start for his business. But he gets very little help from the members of the orchestra and Krassin, who raised Cain when the instrument first vanished, doesn't seem all that concerned now.
Before Calder can make much headway, Krassin is killed and the suspect list covers pretty much anyone who knew him. He didn't exactly know how to win friends and influence people. Heading the list were Stanley Price, a petty thief who has was caught stealing from the orchestra and fired--and who has now vanished; Paula Drake, Calder's former flame as well as one of Krassin's cast-offs; her husband Arthur, who has a double-barreled motive--jealousy and, as Krassin's manager, a life insurance policy on his client; James Pascal, an art gallery owner with an odd interest in violins; Felix Hilf, who claims the violin is rightfully his; Lina Gehris, who is actually Krassin's estranged wife and now heir to his estate; and Simon Lear, who--since Krassin didn't live to sign a will in favor of Lear's music school--seems to have no motive, but keeps popping up in the oddest ways. Will Calder be able to find the Strad before the cops do and earn his fee? Will he be able to find it before someone decides his meddling needs to stopped permanently?
This had an excellent beginning and Calder is an interesting character who has a nifty relationship with his girlfriend/secretary Ann. The set-up within the world of orchestral concert musicians was appealing. But...although there was plenty of scenes with action, the plot just didn't seem to move. It seems a little bizarre to say this about a 161 page book, but it felt like a lot of the action was padding. Despite a murder or two and Calder getting beaten up and Paula trying to make moves on Calder (and making Ann jealous) and people disappearing and reappearing all over the place, Calder just seems to be spinning his wheels--through no fault of his own. Page just didn't seem to know how to use the action to advance the story. The ending also seemed to come out of left field--if there were any clues pointing to the connection made in the Calder's wrap-up, I managed to miss them. I really thought I had pegged the least likely suspect (though I hadn't a clue as to motive) and then Page gave me an even less likely solution. ★★ and a half.
First line: The rehearsal was scheduled for noon but by ten-thirty there were already a dozen musicians in the orchestra dressing-room and more were straggling in one or two at a time.
Last line: The door closed, the footsteps and the clatter of pails gradually receded, and then it was quiet.
Deaths = two stabbed
Saturday, November 21, 2020
By Hook or By Crook
By Hook or by Crook* (1947; 1st US publication) by Anthony Gilbert (Lucy Malleson)
Normally Arthur Crook, lawyer-cum-private detective, is in it for the money. But occasionally a case takes his interest and the client is in no position to pay, so he treats it like Robin Hood--allowing his richer customers to pay for those who can't. Such is the case when he receives a plea for help from Miss Janet Martin. Miss Martin is a spinster in reduced circumstances who has befriended a charming little girl, Pamela Smith, and her governess Miss Terry (Teresa) Lawrence.
Miss Martin, who can no longer see well enough to read, spends her days watching people from her window. She is quite taken by the little girl in the red coat and red tam-o-shanter and is delighted when her little dog chases her landladies cat and gives her and excuse to meet Pamela. They--and Terry Lawrence--have a lovely time chatting over biscuits and then they exchange a couple more visits. Pamela is the ward of a very well-to-do gentleman who has given Miss Martin to understand that the girl will be very well looked after in the event of his death. He even has Miss Martin witness his will. But when Mr. Scott dies from an overdose--possible suicide--there is no such will to be found and his sister, the ominous Mrs. Barnes, whom Terry and Pamela have always referred to as an imposing, interfering woman, has Pamela sent away to an orphanage. Terry is called upon to help, but she soon fades out--she's got a fiance; is she too busy to worry about the little girl? Miss Martin knows that something is not right and asks Crook to investigate. His detective work unearths not only abduction, but fraud and murder as well. But just how many people are in on the plot anyway?
This isn't a usual whodunit in the classic tradition. We pretty much know who the bad guy(s) is (are) from early on. What is up for grabs is how many people are involved and whether Miss Martin and Mr. Crook are going to be able to convince the authorities. What is really interesting is the depiction of the plight of older women in post-war Britain. It's dreadful to have a dwindling pension and to be so dependent on the (hopefully) good will of relations. And then to not have many friends or much of a way to entertain oneself can make for very long days.
As with so many of Gilbert's books, she brings Crook in quite late. My favorites bring him into the action sooner. But Miss Martin is such an interesting character and the back ground involving her is so important that I didn't miss him quite as much. A good, solid read. ★★★ and a half.
*aka The Spinster's Secret (1946; 1st British publication) Reviewed under this title by Kate at Cross Examining Crime and also by Moira at Clothes in Books.
First line: "Before you set out to commit a murder," said Arthur Crook--who was like certain Cabinet Ministers in that he rejoiced in sweeping statements--"there's one important point to bear in mind, something like a lion in your way. And even a lion-tamer can't be sure of circumnavigating this one: that is, there's no foolproof method of murder."
Last line: "Well, what would you do, chum?"
Deaths = 4 (three poisoned; one hung)
Miss Lonelyhearts (1933) by Nathanael West
Synopsis (form the back of the book): Miss Lonelyhearts was the very sensitive young man who conducted the advice-to-the-lovelorn column in a New York newspaper. Unable to bear the tragic implications of the messages which poured into his department every day, he attempted to adopt the role maliciously suggested to him by the feature editor: that he was one of America's twentieth-century priests...
And the New York Herald Tribune had this to say: "Chapter after brilliantly written chapter moves like a rocket in mid-flight, neither failing nor falling...A grotesquely beautiful novel; if you are thoroughly shockproof, Nathanael West will richly reward your attention."
Well...I can go along with the grotesque part--but I must not be sufficiently shockproof. If I ever had a taste for high concept books, I think I must have lost it long ago. The style of West's book reminds me a great deal of Tom Stoppard's play Rosencrantz & Guild Are Dead which also did not do a whole lot for me (as evidenced by the linked review). And it definitely made me think of the quote from Shakespeare's Macbeth: Life's but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.
West's novel is just a very sad and disillusioned look at America during the Great Depression. It has taken a very bleak subject and made it--if possible--bleaker still. And has done so using a most disorienting style. Definitely not my cup of tea. ★
Friday, November 20, 2020
In Search of the Great Dead (mini-review)
Peril at End House
Peril at End House (1932) by Agatha Christie
Hercule Poirot and Captain Hastings are having a holiday on the Cornish coast. Poirot is, he insists, retired. He has, in fact, turned down an appeal from the Home Secretary which has just arrived by post. But then Miss Nick Buckley comes into the garden below where he and Hastings have been sitting on a terrace. They invite her to join them and in the course of conversation, she reveals something alarming:
I've had three escapes from sudden death in as many days so I must lead a charmed life.
They aren't quite sure what to make of her story of a heavy portrait crashing from the wall above her bed, of a boulder plunging into the sea where she was swimming, and the curious failure of car brakes. Then there is a buzzing as if from a wasp and when her friends call her to join them for drinks and she leaves her hat behind Poirot finds evidence of a fourth attempt. A bullet hole in the hat and a bullet in the garden.
Poirot quickly leaves retirement behind and determines to protect Nick from whomever may be plotting against her. He meets her friends and those in her household at End House (her family home) and makes a list of suspects and their possible motives. But although he is certain that he has given Nick all the protection she needs, death still visits the lonely house on the cliff. But it isn't Nick who dies--her cousin Maggie is shot while wearing Nick's red shawl--and Poirot is even more determined to catch the murderer who would dare to kill right under the detective's nose.
Not my all-time favorite Christie, but still very good. I enjoy the different ways that Christie has used the mistaken identity theme over the course of her books. I had the right culprit early on, but I couldn't figure out the motive. Then I got distracted by Christie's red herrings (as she intended) and decided I must have been wrong. So...once again, she fools me. This is why she gets ★★★ and a half. What keeps this from a higher rating is the characters. There just weren't any vivid characters in this particular outing--Poirot and Hastings didn't even seem to be at the top of their game (from my point of view). Generally speaking in Dame Agatha's work there is at least one memorable character (other than our detective) and sometimes there's a whole train full of interesting people. But even Nick, who is at the center of the action, doesn't leave a great impression. I read nearly all of Christie's mysteries 30-40 years ago and despite my memory being more and more sieve-like (I rarely remember whodunit except for the biggies--like that train mystery), I can usually name a character from the book. I definitely would not have come up with any of the characters' names for Peril...and I'd bet good money that it won't be long before they fall out of my head again.
First line: No seaside town in the south of England is, I think, as attractive as St. Loo
Last line: "Now I know everything," he said happily.
Deaths = 1 definite (shot) [one more is implied--but we aren't told for sure]
Wednesday, November 18, 2020
Replay (1987) by Ken Grimwood
As the cover indicates, Grimwood's novel poses the question: What would you do if you could do it all over again? Or even just part of it? Jeff Winston, a 43-year-old radio journalist gets the chance to find out. In 1988, he dies from a heart attack while on the phone with his wife. But he immediately becomes conscious again and finds himself back at college in 1963. He's naturally disoriented at first, but quickly realizes that all his memories of the next 25 years are intact and begins to figure out how he can use that to his advantage. A few strategically placed bets and soon he...and his partner Frank are set for life. (Since Jeff was underage, he needed Frank to place the bets.) The two set up a company and begin making investments based on Jeff's "sense" of the market. Along the way, Jeff makes an effort to change history for the better--attempting to prevent the assassination of JFK by tipping the FBI off about Oswald. But it's all for naught...someone else does the job and history unfolds as if nothing had happened.
He even tries to avoid his own death in 1988 by living a far more healthy lifestyle. But when 1988 rolls around, he's hit with that same slam in the chest and finds himself back in 1963--just a few hours later than the last time. He goes through several rounds--trying various life-styles and producing small, but insignificant (in the grand scheme of things) changes. And then he meets a woman (Pamela) who is experiencing the same thing. They fall in love and then they try to find a way to have a happy ending. But the resets keep getting shorter and they don't know what will happen when there's no more time left to reset. Will there be a happily-ever-after after all?
I read this back in the late 80s, shortly after it first came out and absolutely loved it. I was deep in my science fiction mode at the time and I really enjoyed the theme of reliving your life and trying to get things right...or better. I absolutely would have agreed then that this was an award-winning book (as it was--World Fantasy Award 1988). This time--it just didn't hook me in the same way. I still can see that it was an influential book. You can see its stamp on Groundhog Day, for instance, and other stories where traveling into your own past is involved. At times, the writing is really, really good. But I did get bogged down a bit in the various resets. They just didn't interest me as much on a second reading 30-some years later.
One thing that I did think about this time: Why was this happening? Was the point to make Jeff and Pamela realize how their choices affect their lives? And how exactly did it happen? There's no real attempt at explanation. It just happens. Because. I gave the book four stars when I first read it. ★★★ now.
First line: Jeff Winston was on the phone with his wife when he died.
If the Shroud Fits
If the Shroud Fits (1941) by Kelley Roos is the story of murder in the world of advertising photography. It opens with Haila Troy, new bride of mere months, waiting for hubby Jeff to come home (hopefully with news of a job). While she's waiting, Julie--a friend from Haila's modeling days--drops by. Julie is clearly in a nervous state and she desperately wants to consult Jeff. Since his success in dealing with the mystery in Made Up to Kill, she's sure that he can handle whatever mysterious thing might be going on. Haila finally convinces her friend that she doesn't know where Jeff is, nor when he'll be home and why not get her mystery off her chest while she's here?
It winds up that Julie had a very odd experience in the dark room of Photo Arts, the photography studio where she works as a designer. Mac and Kirk (co-owners) had a big shoot that day. An advertising photo shoot that could make their reputation. Everything had gone well and Julie had gone into the dark room to retrieve a list of props. She was in a hurry and knew exactly where it was, so didn't bother turning on the light. She suddenly became aware that she wasn't alone in the room...
When you hear a noise that has danger in it, you can sense that danger somehow. (p.10)
The noise startled her, but then she noticed an odd smell--a smell she only identified later as chloroform. That's when she got nervous. Because she was sure that someone had murder on their mind and she didn't know who would be the killer and who would be victim. Obviously not her--because he or she had their chance when she called out "Who's there?" But they didn't take advantage of the moment...they just slipped quietly out while she was having a case of the jim-jams.
As Haila's trying to calm her down, the phone rings and it's the studio--the pictures have been ruined and they're going to have to do the whole thing over. Haila tells Julie that she must go and let Mac & Kirk know what happened and she (Haila) will come as soon as possible with Jeff. Well...Jeff doesn't come and Haila decides she must go without him. As soon as she gets there, Julie tells her it's all okay; she'll explain later; and Haila can just go home. Before Haila can get any sense out of her, she's (Haila) roped into taking the place of a missing model and the shoot once again goes well. That is...until everyone is changing back into their street clothes and Mrs. Isabelle Fleming, the star of the piece, is found stabbed to death before the mirror in her dressing room.
When the police show up, it doesn't take them long to fasten on Mac as first suspect. He's married to the victim's niece and only heir. The niece will now inherit a nice bundle and the photo studio is badly in need of an influx of cash. Various other clues seem to point in his direction as well. But Haila...and Jeff, once he arrives on the scene, are convinced that there's more to this murder (and the one that follows) than meets the eye. And it's up to them keep Mac out of the electric chair.
Okay...I've been mulling over my review (for much longer than intended) and I'm just not sure about what I think of this one. One question I had right off the bat--how did they know to call the Troy's apartment to find Julie at the beginning? I mean, Julie was all worried that somebody at that photo shoot was a killer and she didn't know who. She also didn't tell anybody about her encounter in the dark room, so I can't imagine she announced to everybody: "Hey, I'm gonna go over to the Troy's place for a quick consultation." But that's minor. And really, most of my quibbles with this one are. The humor falls flat--especially the wise-cracking policeman who at times seem to be doing a weak imitation of good cop/bad cop. Haila really doesn't hold up her end of the couple detective business very well. And...that ending. Seriously? Spoiler in apparent empty place: We're really supposed to believe that Haila's imagination made her believe she was being gassed to death? That she was that hysterical? Not a good look for the female detective. Not at all.
On the plus side: I particularly liked the setting. I thought the photo shoot made an interesting backdrop for the murder. It gave us a closed group of suspects, and with characters milling about--getting into and out of outfits for the photo shoot, wandering in and out of the dark room, and, of all things, doing cartwheels--it's no wonder it was difficult to figure out who grabbed the knife and when. And overall we get a good feel for the time period--from the agency itself to the elaborate dining set that gave background for the photo shoot tableau to the streets of New York to the various apartments belonging to the suspects. I also enjoyed the scenes where Jeff was present--a shame he was missing for a good portion of the first half. ★★★ for a middle-of--the--road mystery.
Both Kate at Cross Examining Crime and JJ at The Invisible Event have previously reviewed this. Click the links to check out their thoughts.
First line: It had started raining about six o'clock, a cold blue October rain that slashed horizontally against the windows and swirled over the roof.
Last lines: Your mind! And what does it matter? You're awful cute, Halia. Kiss me.
Deaths = (one stabbed; one strangled)
Wednesday, November 11, 2020
2012 British Crime Classics
Where Serpents Sleep
Where Serpents Sleep (2008) by C. S. Harris
Sebastian St. Cyr, Viscount Devlin is surprised when Hero Jarvis, daughter of a man who would cheerfully have Devlin killed if he thought he could get away with it, comes to him for help. Hero is much like her father--proud, imperious, and certain to get her way, but she differs from him in one way: she is reform-minded and has been spending her time among the prostitutes doing research towards public reform for these women. Her research had taken her to the Magdalen House, a home for fallen women run by Quakers. While there one evening, men come and brutally kill eight of the women. Hero narrowly escapes after one of the women who had gone by the name of Rose dies in her arms.
The house goes up in flames and the powerful Lord Jarvis arranges for Bow Street to be satisfied that the women all died from the fire (not murdered as Hero can bear witness). He doesn't want any scandal connecting his daughter to these women from the streets and he forbids her to go to Bow Street herself. But he didn't tell her she couldn't investigate on her own...or ask for private assistance. And she wants to find out how Rose, a young woman gently born, had wound up in Magdalen House and why she had to die. So, she makes an uneasy partnership with Devlin. On the face of it, the viscount has no reason to aid his adversary's daughter, but his curiosity gets the better of him and he can't resist an opportunity to annoy Jarvis.
Their investigation takes them from the rooms of an upscale brothel to the Mayfair mansion of a well-born family and from East End docks to the steps of the House of Commons. There are secrets in that Mayfair mansion and a plot swirling around the government. But even in what they discover, all is not what it seems and they have to make their way through layers of mystery to get to the real reason for the murders. The killers are ruthless and determined to eliminate anyone who might be able to identify them and reveal their ultimate purpose. There is an attempt on Hero's life--three times--and she and Devlin narrowly escape a water death in the rising tide. Lord Jarvis won't be pleased...especially when he discovers who had marked his daughter for murder. Fortunately for him, his adversary Devlin is very good at keeping his associates out of the grave.
The fourth in the series and Harris keeps the action going. I really enjoy the time period and Devlin is just a very good character. Hero Jarvis is also very interesting and it was great fun to see her take more of a center stage and to give Devlin as good as he gives. She's intelligent and able to keep up with him--and she's a pretty good shot in a pinch. Harris also weaves historical events into the story without either beating the reader over the head with research or mangling events in order to make a story--as she explains in the afterword, a few liberties were taken but nothing that changes history significantly.
Again, there are clues that would allow the reader to identify the perpetrator of the final murder...but I don't know that I find this person as compelling in the role. More background on the incidents leading up to their decision to kill would have been useful--though perhaps that might have provided too much of a neon sign to shout "X is the killer!" But this is a minor quibble and overall Harris has provided another enjoyable historical mystery. ★★★★
First line: The girl stared out the window, one hand sliding up and down her shawl-covered arm in a ceaseless, uneasy motion.
Last line: Tightening his knees, he sent the mare flying forward across the park. Toward his father, and toward a reconciliation too long delayed.
Deaths = 16 (four shot; seven broken necks; four stabbed; one poisoned--suicide)
Tuesday, November 10, 2020
The Thursday Murder Club
The Thursday Murder Club (2020) by Richard Osman
Welcome to Coopers Chase--an upscale retirement village with all the mod cons from a "contemporary upscale restaurant" for all your dining needs to clubs and activities to suit everyone's tastes. There is a group for Art History and another for Conversational French...and then there's the Thursday Murder Club who meet (surprisingly enough) every Thursday to discuss old cases. They look over materials and examine evidence and try to figure out if the police fingered the right person. The group of sprightly septuagenarians are a diverse group. Elizabeth is the leader--decisive, persuasive, with more connections than an old-fashioned operator's board. We're never told exactly what Elizabeth was in a former life, but there are definite MI5 vibes going on. Then there is Ron--well-known in his younger years as Red Ron--always up for bucking the system and telling officials where to get off, especially in a fight for an underdog. And Ibrahim, a retired (semi-retired?) therapist, who uses his knowledge of human nature as well as his incredible encyclopedic memory and calculating skills in the good fight. The newest member (and our sometime narrator through diary entries) is Joyce. Joyce used to be a nurse and can help with medical knowledge. She also has a way of being easily overlooked that comes in handy. It allows her to observe others without them realizing it.
You might wonder how this merry band of sleuths are able to get their hands on case files. Well...as mentioned, Elizabeth has connections. Plus, one of the other founding members, Penny, was a cop. A cop who despite regulations made copies of everything...and brought it all along with her to the retirement village. [Penny has since slipped away into dementia and can no longer participate, but her files are the gift that keeps on giving.]
When Tony Curran, a local developer who, along with his partner Ian Ventham, plans to expand the retirement village and, incidentally, bulldoze his way through a old cemetery full of nuns, winds up murdered, the Thursday Murder Club get the chance to dive into a current murder investigation. They no sooner learn of Tony's death than Elizabeth has a foolproof plan to weasel their way into the good graces of the local police. DCI Chris Hudson isn't going to know what hit him. More bodies are found; Elizabeth and Joyce take day trips to London to track down suspects; and Ron and Ibrahim take a quick jaunt to Turkey--all in pursuit of justice. These four may be in a retirement community, but they've got all their wits about them--and that's more wits than most.
Well...that was just too much fun. It's worth the price of admission just for the scene where all the 70- and 80-year-olds in the community confront Ian Ventham and his earth-moving equipment. They hold a picnic-slash-tea party in front of the gates so he can't get in and start digging up the cemetery. Osman has created a great group of characters and it's incredibly easy to throw disbelief to the winds and go along with the idea of these four fearless amateurs taking on the bad guys. I enjoyed watching them out-maneuver the police and wangle information that the police might never have discovered. The one thing that keeps this from being a full five-star book is the plot itself--it's a bit convoluted for my tastes and there's one other stumbling block that I mention in the spoiler section below (don't venture further if you haven't read it). Otherwise--a thoroughly enjoyable mystery novel. ★★★★
The one real quibble I have is that there isn't just one killer. We have multiple deaths and multiple killers and multiple motives--though I suppose that you could say that most of the killers were acting out of an urge to protect or avenge someone. But I prefer my mysteries a little tidier and that all the deaths are linked in a very real way. I will also say that I was disappointed that Tony was the first to die. Ian Ventham was a loathsome man and I fully expected him to play first victim. He does get his...but not for the reason I thought he would.
First line: Well, let's start with Elizabeth, shall we? and see where that gets us?
Last line: And right on time, there's my crumble. I will let you know how everything goes.
Deaths = 9 (one hit on head; three poisoned; one hung; three shot; one stabbed)
Friday, November 6, 2020
Look Your Last (slightly spoilerish)
I've seen so many investigations into this, that, and the other. Each time one hopes that the truth will be uncovered. And sometimes that happens. But even when it does, what good is it? The most curious aspect of truth seems to be that nobody will believe it. We can swallow any quantity of falsehoods and fancies, but not the truth. (p. 89)
Look Your Last is a spy thriller murder mystery set in 1941 before the United States had entered the war and before many people believed Hitler and his schemes for European domination were any concern of ours. It focuses on a intrigue within the realm of big oil--companies who didn't mind a little dirty dealing with Germany in the interests of the almighty dollar. We begin with a Senate Committee investigation into Star Oil. It is an investigation that threatens to bring down a senator and the committee is eagerly awaiting the testimony of Chester Dimmick--but Chester has disappeared. At the same time, a mysterious Mr. Smith walks out of his house and winds up dead days later in a rooming house--evidence seems to point to the man whose rooms he had been sharing, Alfred Quinn (aka Arthur Cronch). Both men had been implicated in an earlier death of Hiram Stone, a big man in Star Oil who was staunch in his anti-Hitler beliefs.
Two newspapermen, Gridley Carson and Barney Gantt, are very interested. And Carson seems to have a way of getting all the good anonymous tips...like the one telling him that Mr. Smith was really Dimmick and that Dimmick had been murdered before anyone else knew he was dead. Carson is willing to go to jail before he'll reveal who his anonymous tipster is, but he regretfully believes that Cronch is guilty.
Barney Gantt, on the other hand, believes Cronch to be innocent and, along with FBI man Jack Higgins, starts looking for Stone's secretary who has been missing since the original murder. They will succeed in their quest--but what they find will surprise them. They also uncover a massive plot to overtake the U.S. government that goes beyond just owning a Senator.
There is another plot-line running that follows two cousins in Germany--one of whom is denounced as a traitor and sent to Dachau. Strange ties this all in for a satisfying (if unpleasant for the cousin) denouement. Lots of conspiracies and spy-ring action.
This was an interesting look at the U.S. in the years running up to the war. Not just your typical spy thriller, but giving good background on the prevalent viewpoints of the day. The mystery aspect is perhaps a bit weak--I spotted the prime villain fairly quickly, but still very enjoyable. I think perhaps this is a work that benefited from being abridged in the Mercury Mystery edition which I read. The action is stream-lined and didn't seem as bogged down in politics as Kate implies in her review from 2017 over at Cross Examining Crime. ★★★ and 1/2.
First line: At about six-thirty on a chill, rainy evening in the last week of April in the now almost forgotten spring of 1941, a man turned the corner at Seventh Avenue in New York City and walked quickly west on Twenty-fourth Street.
Last line: They said nothing. Leaning on the rail, they watched the ciy drawing away from them and were content.
Deaths = 4 (two bashed on head; one shot; one overdose)
Thursday, November 5, 2020
The 52 Book Club Reading Challenge