The Mystery of Hunting's End

The Mystery of Hunting's End by Mignon Eberhart is a reread for me.  I love this book.  I'm not sure how many times I've read it, but it doesn't matter and it doesn't matter that I already know the secret of the locked room.  If Nancy Drew was my gateway to mysteries, then Hunting's End was the book that made me fall in love with them.  There are several reasons why I have such a great fondness for this book.  One is that my grandma sent it to me when I was about 8 or 9.  It showed up one year in a boxful of books that Grandma had decided to send to her eager reader granddaughter. I'm not certain if the books were hers or if she had just found them at a garage sale and thought of me. Either way, I was already deep enough in my bibliomania that I wasn't going to look a gift book in the covers (or some odd mangling of a proverb). Among the other books were a couple of Man From U.N.C.L.E. adaptations, the book version of the Hayley Mills film The Parent Trap, and several others that I can't recall.

By far, the favorite was Eberhart's mystery. It was a Crime Club hardback with the man with the gun logo. I reread it I don't know how many times. And then, sometime between junior high and marriage, it disappeared. It's the only book I used to own that went astray and I have no idea what happened. A few have gone missing when borrowed....but Hunting's End? That one's a real mystery. It then became my mission in life to hunt up another copy. A few years ago I got my hands on a paperback copy, but I was still on the lookout for a replacement Crime Club edition.  Thanks to John from Pretty Sinister Books I was able to get my hands on a copy this past October and I promptly put it on the list to reread and fulfill various challenges that allow (or demand) rereads.

Another reason I like Hunting's End so much is that it was my first locked room mystery. I also enjoyed the atmosphere--one of Eberhart's strong suits. Set in the rolling and desolate landscape of the Sand Hills of Nebraska, where Mignon G. Eberhart lived as a newlywed, this 1930 mystery revolves around a weekend party at Hunting’s End, a lodge owned by the rich Kingery family. Matil Kingery has invited a strange collection of guests to join her on the outing—the same people who were at the lodge when her father died of “heart failure” exactly five years ago. She knows that her father was murdered and intends to find out which of the guests is the guilty party.  She has to find out....she's in love with one of the young men and wants his name cleared.

Added to the guest list is the dapper young detective Lance O’Leary who is posing as an acquaintance of Matil's. At his recommendation Matil has also engaged Nurse Sarah Keate to take care of Aunt Lucy while they're at the lodge—a fairly unpleasant assignment, as it turns out. Aunt Lucy is a crotchety old woman with a tongue as sharp as Nurse Keate's and who seems to know more than is good for her. In the course of the weekend, a November snowstorm hits the area and the group is stranded. The atmosphere is not made any cheerier by a jittery collie named Jericho and a stray cat who seems to able to herald new, clearly unnatural deaths. As the storm continues, nerves get frayed,the cook starts drinking heavily, secrets start leaking out, and the death toll continues to rise.
Nurse Keate is the same eagle-eyed, sharp-tongued, strong-stomached angel of mercy and sleuth who was introduced to mystery lovers in The Patient in Room 18. Her popularity

helped establish Mignon G. Eberhart as a mainstay of the golden age of detective fiction. The Mystery of Hunting's End, her third novel, received the $5000 Scotland Yard Prize in 1931 and by the end of the 1930s, Eberhart was one of the leading American detective novelists. 

This reread was like greeting an old friend.  I found myself nodding over familiar passages and anticipating others I remembered.  No matter how many other Eberhart books I've read since my first acquaintance with her, Hunting's End has remained my favorite.  The Patient in Room 18 is on deck for this year....it will be interesting to see how it measures up.  Four and a half stars.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: The Scarab Murder Case

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to spotlight another classic mystery that I read and loved before I began blogging and reviewing every book I read. A lot of these books come from a time when I was a reader....period. No journaling, no notes. I kept a list of what I read and assigned a rating, but that's it. So quite a bit of my comments will be based on what my rapidly-aging, sieve-like memory will produce for me...that and the little jolts I give it by reading descriptions from the back of the books, the library website, Amazon, etc. I just want to take a moment each weekend and introduce you to some vintage mysteries that you may not know....or, perhaps, remind you of some golden oldies you may have read in the past.


This week we'll take a look at The Scarab Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine. Van Dine was the pen name of art critic and author Willard Huntington White. While this is not the first book in the Philo Vance mystery series, it was my first introduction to the "American Peter Wimsey." Vance would seem to be so named based on his affected accent (droppin' the "g" from so many words among other verbal habits), his stylish (sometimes foppish) dress--monocle included--and intellectual attributes. Like Wimsey, he seems to have an aptitude for a great many surprising subjects from horses to archery; classical music to classic crime; Renaissance art to the appreciation of fine cuisine and wine.

(my edition)

In The Scarab Murder Case, the murder investigation takes Philo Vance to a private home that also serves as a museum of Egyptology. The victim is philanthropist Benjamin Kyle who is found at the feet of a statue of Anubis, god of the underworld, and apparently bludgeoned to death with a figurine of the goddess Sakhmet. There are suggestions by Egyptian servants that the death is divine retribution for disturbing ancient burial places and bringing objects to the museum. Vance becomes involved because his former college friend Donald Scarlett discovered the body and wants his help. The detective uses his knowledge of Egyptian history and customs as well his ability to interpret the evidence and clues left behind.


This is another book that I discovered at that small library with its treasure trove of vintage mysteries. I remember being fascinated with Vance and that the mystery was good enough to make me put the Van Dine novels on my TBO list. I thoroughly enjoy reading the Vance novels--even those that aren't quite as good just for the flavor and amusement. As it stands, I have read (and own) all but two. I look forward to owning the final books.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Below Suspicion

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to spotlight another classic mystery that I read and loved before I began blogging and reviewing every book I read. A lot of these books come from a time when I was a reader....period. No journaling, no notes. I kept a list of what I read and assigned a rating, but that's it. So quite a bit of my comments will be based on what my rapidly-aging, sieve-like memory will produce for me...that and the little jolts I give it by reading descriptions from the back of the books, the library website, Amazon, etc. I just want to take a moment each weekend and introduce you to some vintage mysteries that you may not know....or, perhaps, remind you of some golden oldies you may have read in the past.


This week I'd like to introduce you to Below Suspicion by John Dickson Carr. I read this one back when I was first getting acquainted with the master of the locked room mystery, so my personal memories of the book are very fuzzy. Not too long ago I picked up a very nice hardback copy with dust jacket (pictured above). I really should make a point to reread this and refresh my memory. And, if you just happen to have missed out on Carr in your mystery reading career so far--well, let me tell you, you have a treat in store.

Carr was an American author of detective stories who lived for a number of years in England. Thus, he gave many of his mysteries a British setting. His best-known characters, Dr. Gideon Fell and Sir Henry Merrivale, are also British. Carr is considered one of the best of the Golden Age detective novelists and one of the deans of the locked room mystery or "impossible" crime. The Hollow Man is considered by many to be his masterpiece and was voted best locked room mystery of all time by a panel of 17 mystery authors and reviewers. You could say that Carr knew his stuff.


Below Suspicion, written in 1949, is a Gideon Fell novel but also features and tends to focus on Patrick Butler, a barrister who is known in some British courts as "The Great Defender" and in others as "that damned Irishman." Butler really enjoys working murder cases--and he prefers his clients to be guilty because it's more of a challenge. He's also quite full of himself...as he says, " I am never wrong."

The story starts with the death of an old woman. She is found to have died of poison and dark-haired, quiet Joyce Ellis is arrested for her murder. Butler is all set for the defense and privately believes his client to be "guilty as hell." Before this trial comes to an end, a man named Richard Renshaw dies of the same poison--antimony--and his beautiful, blonde wife Lucia looks to be the police's choice of suspect. Butler passionately believes in this client's innocence. Despite the deadly and complete evidence against her. In the end it is Gideon Fell who sees the significance of the silver candelabrum, the red garter, and the strange mark on the window sill. We also have chases through Soho, weird Satanic rites, a violent attacker with gold teeth, and roof beams falling at the most opportune moments. Mystery and mayhem and good fun!

Vintage Mystery Sunday: The Voice of the Corpse

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to spotlight another classic mystery that I read and loved before I began blogging and reviewing every book I read. A lot of these books come from a time when I was a reader....period. No journaling, no notes. I kept a list of what I read and assigned a rating, but that's it. So quite a bit of my comments will be based on what my rapidly-aging, sieve-like memory will produce for me...that and the little jolts I give it by reading descriptions from the back of the books, the library website, Amazon, etc. I just want to take a moment each weekend and introduce you to some vintage mysteries that you may not know....or, perhaps, remind you of some golden oldies you may have read in the past.


This week's featured detective novel is The Voice of the Corpse by Max Murray. Max Murray was born in Australia and worked as a newspaperman in that country, the US, and England and served as scriptwriter,editor, and news correspondent for the BBC during WWII. He was married to author Maysie Greig. He died while on a return trip to Sydney in 1956 at the age of 55. The Voice of the Corpse (1948) is the first novel in a series of eleven mysteries all with "corpse" in the title. His novels, like his life as a journalist and an employee of the BBC, took him to various places in the world. This means that although there is the running "corpse" theme in the titles Murray's books do not have a series detective.

The Voice of the Corpse finds us in a typical post-WWII British village. Murray quickly establishes place and gives us finely drawn characters. The corpse in question for this outing is Angela Pewsey. Angela is that mainstay of detective fiction--a poison pen. Her voice is the voice of sneaky accusation. And until someone silenced her at 3:30 one fine afternoon with a neat blow to the back of her head, the vicious woman had collected bits and pieces of conversation, looked through stolen letters, and spied on her neighbors until she knew at least something about everyone in the village of Inching Round and everything about some of them. Her letters were gloating and threatened to reveal all. That was too much for someone and spelled the end for Angela.


The story is skillfully plotted and provides the reader with a large cast of suspects--because nearly everyone had a reason to stop Angela from broadcasting what she knew. The most prominent suspects are the vain, quick-tempered Graham Ward; Major George Torrens, a retired army man with a secret; the overworked doctor Eric Daw; and Joyce Everard, the woman he loves who just happens to be married--to someone else.

The village police are open to the wandering tramp theory. But though it is an attractive theory none of the locals believe it. And neither do Firth Prentice, a young London solicitor, or Inspector Fowler, the man from Scotland Yard. They discover other folks with motives and means--like Mrs. Sim and her daughter Celia, and the poacher Artie Evans. And then, of course, Angela's venom-soaked diary comes to light with clues enough to lead to the murderer's name...if Prentice and Fowler can decipher them.


Take a cast of plausible murderers, mix well with a shocking confession, and you wind up with a wonderfully exciting and unexpected finale. All told with humor and wit, fine dialogue, and irony. The Voice of the Corpse is another terrific example of post-WWII detective fiction by an author that few readers remember today.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: The Red House Mystery

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to spotlight another classic mystery that I read and loved before I began blogging and reviewing every book I read. A lot of these books come from a time when I was a reader....period. No journaling, no notes. I kept a list of what I read and assigned a rating, but that's it. So quite a bit of my comments will be based on what my rapidly-aging, sieve-like memory will produce for me...that and the little jolts I give it by reading descriptions from the back of the books, the library website, Amazon, etc. I just want to take a moment each weekend and introduce you to some vintage mysteries that you may not know....or, perhaps, remind you of some golden oldies you may have read in the past.


This week we've go the spotlight on A. A. Milne's The Red House Mystery (1922). Milne, best known for his children's stories about Winnie-the-Pooh and the Hundred Acre Wood, was a self-proclaimed devotee of the detective novel. He particularly admired the stories that featured an amateur detective up against the amateur villain. No master criminals or investigative experts for him. So, when he decided to try his hand at crime fiction, it was perfectly natural that his mystery would be solved by someone with no detecting background.

The Red House Mystery is, naturally, a country house mystery--with the added bonus of being a locked room mystery as well. Mark Ablett, owner of the country house in question, is hosting a variety of guests: a widow and her marriageable daughter, a retired major, a willful actress, and Bill Beverley, young man about town. At this time, Mark receives a message that is his long-lost brother (and black sheep of the family) Robert will be arriving soon. Robert shows up and is taken to the library to wait for his brother. Not long afterward, voices raised in argument are heard as well as a shot. The door to library is locked from within and no one answers when the house party members try to enter.

In the meantime, Tony Gillingham, friend to Bill Beverley, arrives at the house. He is on hand to help break in the door and takes on the investigation from the beginning. Entry to the library reveals Robert dead, shot through the head...and Mark is nowhere to be found. It is suggested that in the heat of the argument Mark accidentally shot his brother and then ran away in a panic. Several circumstances do not match this solution, most of all how did Mark get out of the locked room?


Milne does his best to stick to the Golden Age rule of presenting his readers with all the clues necessary to solve the mystery. And he does well with that--the reader can certainly look back and agree that everything was there if it had just been considered correctly. Sticklers for vintage mystery "rules" may quibble with the use of long-lost relatives and secret passages--which were frowned upon by Golden Age novelists. But the air of the mystery is that of light-hearted fun and not take-me-seriously crime fiction. In fact Tony and Bill are having such a grand time playing at Holmes and Watson, that they even feel a bit guilty.

I remember being pleasantly surprised and delighted at this mystery from one of my favorite childhood authors. And being disappointed that, like Tigger, this is the only one. It's a shame that we didn't get to see Milne's skill as a detective novelist develop. All in all, this was a fun romp on the lighter side of vintage fiction that I remember quite fondly.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Death Lights a Candle

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to spotlight another classic mystery that I read and loved before I began blogging and reviewing every book I read. A lot of these books come from a time when I was a reader....period. No journaling, no notes. I kept a list of what I read and assigned a rating, but that's it. So quite a bit of my comments will be based on what my rapidly-aging, sieve-like memory will produce for me...that and the little jolts I give it by reading descriptions from the back of the books, the library website, Amazon, etc. I just want to take a moment each weekend and introduce you to some vintage mysteries that you may not know....or, perhaps, remind you of some golden oldies you may have read in the past.



This week I am highlighting Death Lights a Candle by Phoebe Atwood Taylor (1932). I had the great pleasure of borrowing the Pocket Book edition of Asey Mayo's second mystery outing from my good friend Richard. I was sorely tempted to run off with it....regular readers will remember how much I love those pocket-sized editions of classic mysteries. I was good and resisted temptation. But the story would have been enjoyable no matter what form the book came in. I have fondness for the "Codfish Sherlock," as Asey has sometimes been called. His down-to-earth detective work generally satisfies. And I remember it doing so in this case. Prudence Whitsby and Asey Mayo team up once again to get to the bottom of a murder on Cape Cod. And there is no shortage of trouble around that March. Prudence accepts an invitation from Rowena Kible to the Cape in order to give her a break from Boston. They are then summoned to join a house-warming party across the street--a new mansion owned by Adelbert Stires. The party no more than gets started when some serious snow begins to fall. And where is their host? The small group of guests, their servants, and local handyman, Asey Mayo, are all trapped by the snowstorm--cut off from the world outside. But then Bert Stires manages to show up on foot. He is wet and cold and more than 24 hours overdue from when he left Boston, but no one thinks to ask where he's been or what happened to him. They will have missed their chance, because the next morning he is discovered in his locked bedroom, dead. The doctor proclaims death by poisoning, probably arsenic. But almost everyone is found to have arsenic among his or her possessions. And there are just about as many people with reasons to want Stires dead.

It's then that Asey takes charge of the investigation. Since his first outing in The Cape Cod Mystery, Asey has been elected as sheriff and he now has a badge to give him more authority in his labors. The snow piles up deeper and deeper and so do the questions. How was the arsenic administered? And by whose hand? As the book's title would suggest, there is a candle involved and Asey must decide how that light figures into the mystery before he can bring the crime home to culprit.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: An Oxford Tragedy

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to spotlight another classic mystery that I read and loved before I began blogging and reviewing every book I read. A lot of these books come from a time when I was a reader....period. No journaling, no notes. I kept a list of what I read and assigned a rating, but that's it. So quite a bit of my comments will be based on what my rapidly-aging, sieve-like memory will produce for me...that and the little jolts I give it by reading descriptions from the back of the books, the library website, Amazon, etc. I just want to take a moment each weekend and introduce you to some vintage mysteries that you may not know....or, perhaps, remind you of some golden oldies you may have read in the past.



This week's featured mystery novel is An Oxford Tragedy by J. C. Masterman. Like so many of the mysteries that have an academic setting, An Oxford Tragedy is written by a scholary man. J. C (Sir John Cecil) Masterman was a well-known academic, sportsman and author. He was a don at Oxford University as well as serving as the chair of the Twenty Committee, an organization which controlled British double-agents during World War II.

Masterman wrote his first mystery, the one featured today, in 1933. It takes place at the fictional St. Thomas's College in Oxford. The dons of the college are enjoying some moments of fellowship in the Common Room--indulging in port and cigars and listening to Ernst Brendel, a visitor to the college, discuss law (his profession) and crime and detection (his personal interests). It isn't long before Brendel has a chance to put his amateur skills into practice. An unpopular tutor is found shot to death in the Dean's lodgings and the police are baffled. There doesn't seem to be any clues nor any definite motive for the crime. After all, if everyone who was unpopular were to be shot.....

It is Brendel who is perceptive enough to discover the tangled motives that can drive the academic mind and to uncover the passions that can fuel the decision to kill. He uses psychology in much the same way Hercule Poirot does. There is no mention of "little grey cells," but the reader knows they are hard at work. Brendel also has a way of getting the suspects to talk and soon is able to discover the murderer through a psychological process of elimination. The story is much about atmosphere and less about plot than other mysteries.

Masterman does a wonderful job with the psychology of the crime and in creating the academic setting. The reader really feels like she has been to Oxford and hob-nobbed with the dons. This book was one of the first "academic mysteries" that I read. It is said that Masteman helped pave the way for writers like Michael Innes and Edmund Crispin. That is certainly true in the case of my reading journey. Being exposed to An Oxford Tragedy helped to start me on my hunt for other mysteries set not only at Oxford or Cambridge but at just about any academic institution. It is a fine British mystery and an excellent example of the mystery set in college.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Rocket to the Morgue

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week's featured book is Rocket to the Morgue by Anthony Boucher (originally published in 1942 under his pseudonym H. H. Holmes). This is another vintage mystery find in that small, heavily-loaded-with-mysteries library in small town Indiana.


It revolves around the science fiction writer's world. The now-dead author Fowler Foulkes has reigned over the science fiction world in much the same way as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Holmes have presided over mysteries. His son, Hilary, fiercely protects the intellectual property of his father and does everything he can to keep that property producing the money to go along with the popularity. Hilary's attitude of inflexibility and greed has also earned him many enemies--especially among his father's science fiction colleagues. There are a couple of "accidents" that make him think that his life is in danger...and then a man named Jonathan Tarbell is murdered. Tarbell's death is connected to the Foulkes family by a rosary found in his pocket. The police are called in and Detective Inspector Terry Marshall arrives at the Foulkes home at the same time as a box of chocolates...a box of chocolates that seems to be ticking. And then there's a locked room mystery to be solved.

This was the first Boucher mystery I read. I didn't find the earlier work Nine Times Nine (to which this is a sequel) until much later. It isn't the all-time best mystery. It's a competent mystery and a fairly competent locked room mystery--but having read John Dickson Carr first spoiled me for greatness. What was so great about this book was that I read it during my transition period back to mysteries from science fiction. And the book revolves around the science fiction world. Authors of the Golden Age of SF are represented here...and those who know their SF lore will recognize them--and will catch all the in-jokes. It has been said that this book was Boucher's attempt to introduce SF to the mystery loving crowd. I would say that it might work just as well the other way around.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Flowers for the Judge

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week's featured book is Flowers for the Judge by Margery Allingham (1936). Although this is the seventh Albert Campion book written, it was my first introduction to Allingham's gentleman sleuth and his former burglar manservant, Magersfontein Lugg. Compared to many of the Golden Age queens of mystery (Christie, Sayers, Marsh, etc.), I came late to Allingham's work. It wasn't until I was married and living in a very tiny town with a very tiny public library that I found her. The interesting thing is I think that perhaps 60-70% of the library's fiction holdings were mysteries. All I can deduce is that some huge mystery fan must have willed their entire collection to the library....either that or the person in charge of ordering was a mystery addict. You'll hear more about some of my vintage mystery discoveries at this small town library in future Vintage Mystery Sunday posts.




But...back to Flowers for the the Judge. This story begins with the strange disappearance of Tom Barnabas--a member of a family who owns a leading publishing house in London. He disappeared in broad daylight while walking down a London street. There is an investigation, but Tom is never found and the mystery soon loses public interest. The rest of the family keep the business going...and then twenty years later another member of the family goes missing. Enter Albert Campion. Universal uncle and friend to the family, Campion is called upon to investigate what happened to the missing cousin. This time the family is not left in doubt...the missing man is found dead in the manuscript vault. Suspicion falls on the youngest Barnabas cousin who was known to be in love with the dead man's wife. It is up to Campion to search through the family history to expose the murderer--but, as so often happens, he finds more than he bargained for.



I remember being very taken with Albert Campion and Lugg. Like Lord Peter Wimsey, Campion obviously came from a wealthy, upper-crust family. He was definitely a gentleman. But he chose to go in disguise, so to speak, taking on an assumed name. I also enjoyed his relationship with Lugg. Lugg was certainly no Bunter. He was not the ideal "gentleman's gentleman," but he most definitely had qualities that were very useful to Campion. A very entertaining mystery that urged me to seek out more of Allingham's work.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: The Silver Leopard

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week's featured book is The Silver Leopard by Helen Reilly. Reilly's career reached from 1930-1962. She was one of the first authors to feature police procedure in her work and she based her novels on research she had done on the New York homicide squad. Inspector Christopher McKee is her central detective and she shows him at work with a full complement of supporting officers--from fingerprint men to detectives ordered to shadow suspects. The Silver Leopard leans a little more towards the suspenseful Had I But Known school of her later works, but McKee still has a major role.


In this mystery Inspector McKee faces a knotty problem involving the members and friends of one of New York's oldest and most prosperous families. They are all privileged, suave, and used to getting their own way. At the center is Catherine Lister whose uncle passed away several years ago, but who still has ties to her Aunt and two cousins. Aunt Angela announces that she plans to remarry--her intended is an old family friend, the famous portrait painter Michael Nye. Catherine is then summoned to Nye's studio where she walks into a situation destined to make her the prime suspect in Nye's murder. The door is on the latch and there is a trail of clues leading straight to her and the silver leopard statue that Catherine's uncle had sent to her just before his death. When McKee becomes involved, his investigation will lead from downtown NYC to an old, run-down country inn and a lonely house in another state. The District Attorney begins to pressure him to arrest Catherine, and McKee has to walk the tightrope between keeping the girl's freedom and protecting her from the danger of her own death.

There is a lot of suspense in this one...and a definite atmosphere intended to imply that if Catherine had just paid attention to a few details then she might have known that someone would be desperate enough to at least frame her for murder if not murder her as well. But this is all nicely balanced with the clear, well written police procedure scenes with McKee. McKee follows the book, but also allows his compassion and humanity to see through to the real culprit.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: The Mystery of Hunting's End

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week's featured book takes me back again to my early days of vintage reading. The Mystery of Hunting's End by Mignon Eberhart showed up in a boxful of books that my Grandma had decided to send to her eager reader granddaughter. I'm not certain if the books were hers or if she had just found them at a garage sale and thought of me. Either way, I was already deep enough in my bibliomania that I wasn't going to look a gift book in the covers (or some odd mangling of a proverb). Among the other books were a couple of Man From U.N.C.L.E. adaptations, the book version of the Hayley Mills film The Parent Trap, and several others that I can't recall.

By far, the favorite was the mystery. It was a Crime Club hardback with the man with the gun logo. I reread it I don't know how many times. And then, sometime between junior high and marriage, it disappeared. It's the only book I used to own that went astray and I have no idea what happened. A few have gone missing when borrowed....but Hunting's End? That one's a real mystery. It then became my mission in life to hunt up another copy. A few years ago I got my hands on a paperback copy, but I'm still on the lookout for a replacement Crime Club edition.

I think one of the reasons I liked Hunting's End so much was that it was my first locked room mystery. I also enjoyed the atmosphere--one of Eberhart's strong suits. Set in the rolling and desolate landscape of the Sand Hills of Nebraska, where Mignon G. Eberhart lived as a newlywed, this 1930 mystery revolves around a weekend party at Hunting’s End, a lodge owned by the rich Kingery family. Matil Kingery has invited a strange collection of guests to join her on the outing—the same people who were at the lodge when her father died of “heart failure” exactly five years ago. She has come to believe that her father was murdered and intends to find out which of the guests is the guilty party.

Among the guests is the dapper young detective Lance O’Leary who is posing as an acquaintance of Matil's. At his recommendation Matil has also engaged Nurse Sarah Keate to take care of Aunt Lucy while they're at the lodge—a fairly unpleasant assignment, as it turns out. Aunt Lucy is a crotchety old woman with a tongue as sharp as Nurse Keate's and who seems to know more than is good for her. In the course of the weekend, a November snowstorm hits the area and the group is stranded. The atmosphere is not made any cheerier by a jittery collie named Jericho and a stray cat who seems to able to herald new, clearly unnatural deaths. As the storm continues, nerves get frayed,the cook starts drinking heavily, secrets start leaking out, and the death toll continues to rise.
Nurse Keate is the same eagle-eyed, sharp-tongued, strong-stomached angel of mercy and sleuth who was introduced to mystery lovers in The Patient in Room 18. Her popularity helped establish Mignon G. Eberhart as a mainstay of the golden age of detective fiction. The Mystery of Hunting's End, her third novel, received the $5000 Scotland Yard Prize in 1931 and by the end of the 1930s, Eberhart was one of the leading American detective novelists. In 1971, she received the Grand Master Award from the Mystery Writers of America. She was also a past president of the Mystery Writers of America.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Wilders Walk Away

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week I'm highlighting Wilders Walk Away by Herbert Brean (1948).

As the The Library of Crime Classics edition published by IPL says on the back cover, this book is "a walk on the Wilders side." In the tiny New England village of Wilders Lane, all the school children grow up chanting

Other people die of mumps
Or general decay,
Of fevers, chills or other ills
But Wilders walk away.

And that would seem to be true. Ever since Revolutionary War times on, members of the Wilder family have just walked away--apparently disappearing into thin air. It begins with Jonathan's disappearance in 1775 and extends forward to the novel's 1940s present. There have been footprints on a beach that simply stop. And the father of the current Wilders walks into his office's storage room and is never seen again.

Into this legend of vanishing Wilders walks Reynold Frame, a photojournalist on assignment from Life. When he comes to the village in search of a place to stay, he arrives at the home of Constance Wilder, her sister Ellen, and their Aunt Mary. Ellen is on her way to visit another aunt and Frame helps her carry her heavy suitcase to the bus stop. It isn't long before there are rumors that Ellen has "walked away" for good. But, this time there is proof that the missing Wilder didn't just vanish--Frame finds her murdered and buried in a freshly dug grave. This leads to the discovery of Constance and Ellen's father's body as well. A day or two later, Aunt Mary gets up from the dining table, goes into the kitchen to fetch dessert, and vanishes. As a journalist and a man smitten with the beautiful Constance, Frame is impelled to investigate and he eventually gets to the bottom of the mysteries--both past and present.

I remember Wilders as an engrossing twist on the "impossible" crime. Not quite as good as John Dickson Carr, but still a highly enjoyable mystery and one that I recommend. And....for all of you who are still working on your challenge levels for the Vintage Mystery Reading Challenge, there just happens to be a copy of this little gem on the prize list.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Night of the Jabberwock

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week the spotlight is on Night of the Jabberwock by Fredric Brown (1950).

Probably best known for his story, The Fabulous Clipjoint which garnered an Edgar Award for outstanding first mystery novel, Fredric Brown was a prolific author of hundreds of pulp short stories and several novels. He considered his best work to be in the science fiction arena, but a good two-thirds of his work were mysteries/thrillers. His story quality is high and attention to plotting is very unique.

The Night of the Jabberwock is exactly what the title indicates--the story of one Thursday night in the small town of Carmel City. Doc Stoeger, the editor of the city's newspaper, the Clarion, has just put the Friday edition to bed and is on his way to his favorite bar. He is wishing that something, anything, more interesting than the lead story's church rummage sale would happen to make his newspaper more exciting to read. Little does he know that the night ahead holds the answer to his wish. And you know what they say: Be careful what you wish for....you just might get it. Before the night is over a couple of big-time mobsters will roll into town, the bank will be robbed, and a lunatic will escape from the local asylum. By the time morning has come, four people will be dead. Stoeger is also a Lewis Carroll fan and while he is trying to cope with the night's madness he finds himself dealing with an odd little man who claims he can take Stoeger through the looking glass. But "beware the Jabberwock, my son! The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!" And the most disturbing thing of all--Stoeger will find that none of the events of the night are printable.
I remember this mystery as an incredibly bizarre--but wonderfully so--story of murder. There is an odd feeling of being in the middle of a Lewis Carroll dream world, but Brown brings it all together with an ingenious wrap-up and fine writing. Highly recommended.

Vintage Mystery Sundays: Unexpected Night

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week I'm featuring Unexpected Night by Elizabeth Daly. I don't quite remember how I first found out about Daly and her charming and urbane amateur detective, Henry Gamadge. I think I stumbled across my first one in the tiny local library in the equally tiny town where my husband & I lived when we were first married. If it's true that this is where I first encountered Daly's mysteries which feature the consultant on rare books who has turned detective, then my first Daly was Death and Letters. Someone in that town had a vast love for the 30s-60s era detective novel. I've never been in a library which shelved such a large number of mysteries in comparison to the total circulation.

Elizabeth Daly was born in 1878 in New York City. She was the daughter of the NYC Supreme Court judge, Joseph Francis Daly, and the niece of the playwright and producer, Augustin Daly--and was brought up in a legal and literary atmosphere. She began her literary career at age sixteen publishing light poetry and prose in various magazines, but did not write her first mystery until she was sixty-two. She eventually wrote a total of 16 detective novels. According to her bio in Unexpected Night, she "considered the detective novel at its best a high form of literature and didn't seek to write any other form of fiction." It has also been said in many places that Daly was Agatha Christie's favorite American mystery writer.

Unexpected Night (1940) is Daly's first novel. In it we are introduced to Henry Gamadge, bibliophile and consultant on old books, autographs, and inks. He lives on the East Side of New York, but is willing to roam afield to investigate a suspicious signature....or an untimely death. This first recorded adventure finds Gamadge taking a few days off for rest and golf. His little holiday is interrupted by the untimely death of young Amberley Cowden. Cowden's body is discovered at the bottom of a cliff and is soon ruled an accidental death. But if that is true, why is it so obvious that the scene has been staged? And it does seem a bit odd that Cowden should suffer a fatal accident so soon after receiving an inheritance. Gamadge also wonders what role Amberley's cousin and the encamped troupe of actors are playing in the strange twists and turns of events. All evidence would seem to indicate that someone is playing to a different script--one of murder and mayhem. Can Gamadge fulfill his role and resolve it all before another character is removed from the cast list?

Even this first novel is well crafted and plotted. As the series continues, Daly becomes more confident and is able to provided more tightly constructed plots. But all the elements are there in her first attempt. She also has a fine control of character and provides a very nice picture of society through the interactions between just a few characters. It is very easy to slide into the late 30s and 40s with Daly leading the way. And Gamadge is a wonderful character--I love his genteel and urbane manners. And, of course, I love that he's a bibliophile. All in all a truly delightful, cozy mystery series.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Death Under Sail

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week the spotlight is falling on Death Under Sail by C. P. Snow.


It is funny how one book leads to another. In Gaudy Night by Dorothy L. Sayers, Lord Peter mentions a book where a scientist fakes data to try and cover up mistakes that have been found in his experiments and a discussion ensues about academic integrity and what sacrifices should be made in its name. This reference is to the plot line which runs through The Search by C. P. Snow and a little research on Snow led me to discover that in addition to this book and the series for which he is so well-known (collectively known as Strangers and Brothers) he had written two detective novels, Death Under Sail and A Coat of Varnish. I immediately added them to by TBF list (To Be Found)....this was no easy task. It was over twenty years between my first reading of Gaudy Night and the Red Cross Book Sale where I found Death Under Sail. But in my opinion, it was well worth the wait.

The plot of Death Under Sail seems very simple. A small party of friends--five men and two women--plan to spend two weeks sailing on a small boat. Even though they are friends, the boat is small enough that there is danger that they might get on each others nerves. It winds up that this is not the only danger--for before the close quarters have a chance to work on their temperaments, their host, Roger Mills, is murdered while steering the boat--discovered with a bullet through the heart and a jovial smile on his face. How was this possible? And how could it have happened in such a small, restricted space? Mills had many enemies, but he had no thought that one of them would be among his guests. Who among this decent, educated, and charming group of people had a motive for such violence? The boat is brought to land and two detectives soon enter the scene--the suave civil servant and amateur detective Finbow and his counter-part Detective-Sergeant Aloysius Birrell. What follows is a delightful investigation of "civilized" murder.

Written in 1932, Death Under Sail is another fine example of the witty and genteel Golden Age mystery. We have the closed setting (small boat in the middle of a waterway), limited suspects, the refined and gentlemanly amateur detective, and the policeman who needs the amateur to show him the way. Finbow is a delight all by himself. I am, in addition to being a vintage mystery addict, a collector of quotations. I have several pages devoted to Finbow's bon mots--clever little bits on everything from detection itself to human nature. Finbow's thoughts on human nature stem from his interest in psychology and it is psychology that he uses to solve the mystery. I wish I had read this after I had begun blogging--I would love to have a thorough review of it.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Suicide Excepted

It's Vintage Mystery Sunday and time to step into my vault of classic mysteries and choose one to feature that I read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week I'm bringing out Suicide Excepted by Cyril Hare.

Cyril Hare was the pseudonym of Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark who was an Engligh judge and crime writer. He chose his pen name as a mixture of Hare Court, where he worked in Roland Oliver's chambers, and Cyril Mansions, Battersea, where he made his home after marriage. His novels featured two main investigators, Francis Pettigrew--who was a barrister--and Inspector Mallett--a large police office with a huge appetite. He wrote nine detective novels which were published from 1937 to 1958. Suicide Excepted was his third book.


Suicide Excepted is a lovely mystery novel that would likely appeal to both mystery fans and general readers who are fond of British work. The novel is a combination of intricate puzzle, a bit of a thriller, and a slice of British life. It starts out with the death of an odd elderly man who has kept a scrapbook of rather morbid quotations. He has been staying at an obscure country hotel and it would be convenient if the overdose of sleeping medication were just an accident or even suicide. But is it that simple? Is there a cold-blooded murderer at work? For you see, his family stands to lose a tidy sum in insurance money if the verdict is suicide--and the family can definitely use the money. Contrary to most mysteries where no one wants a murder to have happened, the heirs begin drumming up evidence to try and influence a verdit of foul play. The amateur "sleuths" do find some interesting clues, but while they're beavering away, Inspector Mallett of Scotland Yard is following his own line.

Suicide Excepted works well as a traditional whodunit--there is a floor-plan, a houseful of suspects, and all kinds of suspicious activities going on behind the scenes. It also gives a humorous look at family life in 1930s Britain--with all the infighting between siblings and cousins. We are also given a good look at various levels of society. We are taken from the country hotel to a Lincolnshire country estate, from the shore of Brighton to the "sticky heat of London." The book has delightful dialogue filled with Hare's playful wit and the plot is informed by his profound knowledge of British law.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: The Footsteps at the Lock

Recovery is going well and I'm getting back on track with my regular blogging. And, since it is Sunday, it's time for Vintage Mystery Sunday--my chance to feature classic mysteries that I have read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read. This week the spotlight is on The Footsteps at the Lock by Ronald A. Knox.

Father Knox was an influential theologian, classical scholar and critic. He is well-known in the mystery field as one of the founders of of Holmesian scholarship as well as the author of the celebrated "ten commandments" for writing detective fiction. These commandments are as follows:

1. The criminal must be mentioned in the early part of the story, but must not be anyone whose thoughts the reader has been allowed to know.
2. All supernatural or preternatural agencies are ruled out as a matter of course.
3. Not more than one secret room or passage is allowed.
4. No hitherto undiscovered poisons may be used, nor any appliance which will need a long scientific explanation at the end.
5. No Chinaman may figure in the story.
6. No accident may help the detective, nor must he have any unaccountable intuition which proves to be right.
7. The detective himself must not commit the crime.
8. The detective is bound to declare any clues which he may discover.
9. The stupid friend of the detective, the Watson, must not conceal from the reader any thoughts which pass through his mind: his intelligence must be slightly, but very slightly below that of the average reader.
10. Twin brothers, and doubles generally, must not appear unless we have been duly prepared for them.

And most writers of the Golden Age followed these rules scrupulously. The Footsteps at the Lock shows Father Knox to be not only a scholar and critic of the genre but one who could practice what he preached.

The story starts out innocently enough. Two cousins, Derek and Nigel Burtell, set out on a canoeing trip up the Thames. The goal is to give Derek a voyage in the great outdoors to restore his failing health. It also happens that Derek is shortly, upon his 25th birthday, to inherit 50,000 pounds from his grandfather. Insurance is also involved because, in view of Derek's frail condition, his life has been insured by the Indescribable Insurance Company in the event that he does not reach the celebrated day.

While the journey upstream is uneventful, the return trip does not go as planned. Nigel must leave the canoe at Shipcote Lock in order to take an exam at Oxford. While he is away, the canoe is found adrift below the lock, Derek has disappeared, and there is a jagged gash in the bottom of the canoe. The Indescribable Insurance Company immediately suspects foul play and sends Miles Bredon, a prime investigator, to investigate the circumstances. Is there a murderer along the banks of the Thames or has Derek met with an unfortunate accident? Most importantly, will the company have to acknowledge the claim? Further muddying the waters, Derek's cousin has disappeared as well.
This is a very literate and witty mystery. And very tongue-in-cheek. There are plenty of clues from a set of strange photographs to a baffling cipher to the trail of footprints near the lock and there is also plenty of opportunity to match wits with Bredon. The challenging mystery and nefarious deeds are countered with the beautiful descriptions of the river and the surrounding countryside.
It has been a while since I read this one, but I do remember enjoying the interactions between Mike Bredon and his wife, Angela. They set out by canoe to retrace the cousins' trip and to investigate the area around the lock. Angela is a good partner for Mike and there is a fair amount of witty conversation.

Vintage Mystery Sunday: Case for Three Detectives

Sorry, I've been AWOL for a couple of weeks--getting ready for and having surgery will do that to you. But, now that it is Sunday and I'm fairly alert, it's time for Vintage Mystery Sunday--my chance to feature classic mysteries that I have read and loved before blogging took over my life and I began reviewing everything I read.

This week I'd like to draw your attention to Case for Three Detectives written by Leo Bruce. The back of the book says that this is "possibly the most unusual mystery ever written." It is certainly a most ingenious send up of the Golden Age mystery novel written by someone who obviously knows and loves the genre.

It's been over twenty years since I read this one. It was my very first introduction to the work of Leo Bruce. Bruce is the pseudonymn for Rupert Croft-Cooke, a British author of both fiction and non-fiction under his given name. Using the name Leo Bruce, he created two series detectives: Sergeant Beef, a solid British police officer, and Carolus Deene, a senior master of history with an interest in criminology. It was also my very first parody of the mystery genre--and one I enjoyed very much.

Case for Three Detectives features Sergeant Beef and it pits the no-nonsense common sense of the British police officer against those of three amateur detectives: Lord Simon Plimsoll, Amer Picon, and Monsignor Smith. Discerning readers (especially those well-steeped in the Golden Age) will immediately recognize the similarities to certain well-known literary figures. Each of these amateurs quickly produce their own brilliant solution to the murder which has been commited in the familiar confines of a Locked Room. Each solution is startlingly original and iron-clad in its logic. While all along, Sergeant Beef eyes these amateurs with contempt and and states repeatedly, "But I know who done it."

I enjoyed my outing with Sergeant Beef so much in this mystery that Leo Bruce became a mainstay on my TBR and TBO lists. I've read every Sergeant Beef mystery that I could get my hands on--so far only two others of the eight original. And searching for Sergeant Beef brought the Carolus Deene novels to my attention. I have to confess that I'm a bigger fan of the academic amateur than I am of the British police officer in this case. But I continue to hold high regard for Case for Three Detectives. It is such a marvelously well-done parody and down-right good mystery on its own. I highly recommend it.