Strong Poison

Strong Poison (1930) by Dorothy L. Sayers (read by Ian Carmichael)

As I mention in my previous reviews of the audio version of the first of Sayers's books to feature Harriet Vane, this is a perennial favorite. I love listening to Ian Carmichael read the story. I love going back to the beginning of his romance with Harriet and the beginnings of the changes and growth in his character. If you would like to see what I have thought about the book previously, please see my other reviews (linked on the Revies by Author tab above).

What I like so much about Sayers is that I can reread (relisten to) the stories repeatedly and never get tired of them. I enjoy Sayers' writing and the characters--the way Lord Peter piffles and uses quotation. This time I particularly enjoyed Bunter playing the Don Juan with the cook and the parlor maid and finding out important bits of information to help the investigation along as well as Miss Climpson's "storming the citadel" to get evidence of a certain person's motive.

One thing I did notice this time that managed to escape me on the countless previous readings was a tiny little discrepancy. Miss Climpson (who is one of my favorite characters, by the way) is having a little crisis of moral regret for how she has used spiritualism to get a look at a certain elderly lady's will. She ponders whether the Almighty will forgive her actions--especially as she's doing it to help somebody "I've never even seen" Well...she's doing the job for Lord Peter (whom she most definitely seen) and in turn this bit of deception is to help prove Harriet Vane innocent. And, again, having served on the jury in Harriet's first trial...and having been the main reason it was a hung jury and a new trial had to be called, Miss Climpson most certainly has seen Harriet as well. There isn't anybody else this could be in reference to. 

 Full marks for a grand performance of a much loved detective novel. ★★★★★

First line: There were crimson roses on the bench; they looked like splashes of blood.

Last line: "If she'll have me," said Lord Peter Wimsey.

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Deaths = one poisoned

The Benson Murder Case

 The Benson Murder Case (1926) by S. S. Van Dine

Based very loosely on the (unsolved) true crime murder of  Joseph Brown Elwell in 1920. Elwell, a bridge expert, was found shot to death in his locked home and, like Benson in this novel, was not wearing the toupee which covered his bald head (and his vanity). 

Alvin Benson, a financial man in partnership with his brother Major Anthony Benson, is found shot through the forehead while sitting in his favorite chair in the living room. A book is still clasped in his hand. The house was locked up tight and only Benson and his housekeeper have keys. It's not surprising to find a lady's handbag and gloves on the mantle--Benson was well-known for his pursuit of the fairer sex. So, District Attorney John F. X. Markham naturally assumes it's a case of cherche la femme. But, after examining the room and the dead man, Philo Vance, dilettante and aspiring amateur sleuth, declares that no woman could have committed the crime. He convinces Markham and once the owner of the purse is found the DA decides that her fiance, having taken exception to the attentions of Benson towards his beloved, decided to rid the world of a scoundrel. Vance, of course, shoots that theory down too. Before long, it seems that every viable suspect is ruled out. Could it be that nobody did it?

Once upon a time, I discovered Philo Vance. If I remember correctly, it was in the treasure trove that was the Owen Public Library in my first year of marriage. For a town of about 2500, that library had the most amazing collection of vintage mysteries and it introduced me to the likes of S. S. Van Dine, Elizabeth Daly, Edmund Crispin, and many others that I've since hunted down for my very own vintage mystery library. But back to Vance. I discovered him and loved him and hunted down every one of his cases.

So...I needed a metallic/glittery book for a reading challenge and, having picked this one up in the last year or so, I thought it would fit the bill. Honest to goodness, Vance is the most irr'tatin', wordy fellow ever. Why use one word when you could use a whole paragraph of fancy words with sporadically miss'n letters, dontcha know? Older Bev must have a lot less patience for this type of thing than younger Bev. And Markham must have the patience of Job to put up with this sort of thing on the regular. And what makes it all the worse is that a HUGE portion of the book is devoted to talk--and Vance talking most of the time. There is very little actual action here. It's all Vance giving his ideas about things OR Vance & Markham interviewing suspects. Talk, talk, talk, talk, talk.

SPOILER ahead!!!!!!

What saves the book is the plot. Figuring out who killed Benson and why is pretty interesting. After making Markham listen to him build up plausible cases against everyone who has been on the top of the suspect list, Vance twists everything around to show how someone who hasn't even really been considered and who seems to have the classic iron-clad alibi could have done it. And--by the way--actually did. The mystery is good enough...I just wish I had enjoyed Vance more this time around. ★★★

First Line: It happened  that, on the morning of the momentous June the fourteenth when the discovery of the murdered body of Alvin H. Benson created a sensation which, to this day has not entirely died away, I had breakfasted with Philo Vance in his apartment.

He [Vance] spent considerable time at his clubs: his favorite was the Stuyvesant, because, as 

he explained to me, its mentorship was drawn largely from the political and commercial ranks, and he was never drawn into a discussion that required any mental effort (p. 23)

"Y' know, Markham, our so-called civ'lization is nothing more than the persistent destruction of everything that's beautiful and enduring, and the designing of cheap makeshifts....Look at that fine old door, for instance, with its bevelled panels and bolection, and its Ionic pilasters and carved lintel. And then compare it with the flat. flimsy, machine-made, shellacked boards which are turned out by the thousands today." (Vance; p. 265)

Last Line: And the remark, though intended merely as a good-natured sally, proved strangely prophetic.
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Deaths = one shot

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A Dying Fall

 A Dying Fall (1973) by Hildegarde Dolson

Grace Dilworth's family has always made their mark on the community of Wingate, Connecticut. Her father, the wealthiest man in town, had had fingers in nearly all the pies and when he died, part of his legacy was the Dilworth Arts and Crafts Center. It's a place for community artists of all sorts to ply their craft and exhibit their work. It's known beyond the town's borders for the beautiful rose garden. It's a place the town is proud of. Now Grace, his heir, is making her own mark...but it's not nearly as well received.

Grace returns home after a long cruise with the handsome Davin Lowry on her arm and starts dropping bombshells. The smallest is that they're engaged. And the biggest? Well--first of all, the beautiful rose garden is history. Davin is supposedly an art expert and he's had the brilliant idea to dig up the roses and replace it all with an avant-garde sculpture garden. The board of directors are dismayed--but Grace has the controlling interest and what she says goes. And Mario, the gardener who has cared for those roses like their his own children, is incensed.

The first of the sculptures arrive--among them a ten-foot steel piece with sharp, sword-like prongs sticking out of it titled of all things "Touch Therapy." Well...somebody uses it as therapy all right to get Davin Lowry out of their system for good. The young man's body is discovered impaled on one of the protruding prongs.

Lucy Ramsdale, the sixtyish amateur snoo---er, sleuth, and Inspector James McDougal are off on another hunt for a murderer in this second of the four-part series. Lucy can't believe that one of her neighbors could be responsible. McDougal is sure that Alec, the assistant director for the center, was afraid Gavin planned to see him thrown out of the place just as effectively as the roses (Lucy thinks McDougal is letting his prejudices run away with him). But the evidence points to Mario, the gardener. And Sergeant Terrizi, who is engaged to Mario's niece, is under family pressure to prove Uncle Mario's innocence. Terrizi actually thinks that there was trouble in paradise and that Grace did away with her betrothed herself. Are any of them right? 

At the end of the first book, I had high hopes for McDougal--he'd become a more interesting and likeable character by the end and I thought that would continue. Nah. He's back to grousing over his failed marriage and feeling sorry for himself that he isn't really connected to the police any more. It's amazing how he keeps getting to lead investigations when he's officially retired... Why doesn't the man apply to the local force for a job? And Lucy is also a bit more annoying. She keeps getting her feathers ruffled over how McDougal is investigating and not reacting exactly as she wants him to. Yes, she's a rather egocentric person, but I don't remember it being quite such a thing last time.

The mystery is okay--I mean, there aren't many suspects to begin with and when the killer starts knocking off others who may have been witnesses of one sort or another then the number shrinks even more. It would have also been nice if a little more foundation had been laid for the killer's extreme response to a certain piece of information. It felt like it came out of the blue. I do have one more in the series (the third)--I hope it is stronger than this one. ★★ and 1/2

First line: As Lucy Ramsdale said when the news reached her, "If Grace's papa could hear this, he wouldn't turn over in his grave--he would levitate."

Last line: The nurse who had come in to pick up the dinner tray was shocked.
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Deaths = 3 (one stabbed; one fell from height; one hit on head)

DeKok & the Somber Nude

 DeKok & the Somber Nude (1967) by A. C. Baantjer

Inspector DeKok of the Amsterdam police and his right-hand man Vledder are pulled into a search for a missing young woman. Nanette Bogaard's cousin Kristel van Daalen comes to report her as missing. Nanette is Kristel's partner in a flower business with Nanette creating beautiful arrangements while Kristel handles the business side of things. At this point the beautiful young woman has been missing less than twenty-four hours and Vledder can't understand why DeKok feels such an urgency about it. The cousin insists that Nanette has never stayed away overnight before and that she is certain that something awful has happened. As the two men begin their investigation, they find that they aren't the only ones looking for the flower-arranger. There's her morphine-addicted cousin, Frank Bogaard and journalist Barry Wieler who says he loves her but seems more like a reporter in search of a hot story, and Mr Staaten, a fiftish art collector and stockbroker who insists that the seventeen-year-old Nanette had agreed to marry him. In the background, there is Staaten's son Ronald who definitely did not care for the idea of a stepmother--especially one about his own age. There is is also the mysterious Brother Laurens, who may or may not have been Frank Bogaard's supplier, and  Pierre Popko, who painted a portrait of Nanette nude on the late Mrs. Staaten's couch.

The painting showed up at an art dealer's shop near the canals and seems to be very much in the center of the mystery. Once it's discovered, things move very quickly with Nanette's dismembered body found by the men at the Municipal Garbage Dump. A dirty one-legged doll helps lead DeKok to the location of Nanette's murder...and eventually to the culprit in this fairly grisly and cold-blooded murder.

I have such a mixed reaction here. On the one hand, I thoroughly enjoy Baantjer's style and the excellent translation work by H. G. Smittenaar. The read is smooth and fast-paced and the descriptions of Amsterdam make for a terrific background for the story. The murder is a little more violent than I tend to like, but we don't dwell on the imagery too long. And I thoroughly enjoy the relationship between DeKok and Vledder. My main frustration (which I share with Vledder) is that DeKok keeps things close to his chest--like Holmes. I guessed part of the solution. But the key word there is guessed. There are a number of observations that DeKok makes (to himself) that we're not privy to. He can't believe that Vledder (and we) didn't catch those things. But how could we? But for that I would be giving this four stars instead of ★★★ and 1/2.

First lines: It was raining. It had been raining for days, endless long July days.

Last line: "Yes," he said, "a snake in the shape of an angel."
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Deaths = 2 (one natural; one strangled)

Winds of Evil

 Winds of Evil (1937) by Arthur W. Upfield

A strangler is at work at Wirragatta Station in the far reaches of the Australian outback. The killer operates during violent windstorms that last more than one night--all the better to cover any traces he may have left behind. Enter Joe Fisher (aka Detective-Inspector Napoleon "Bony" Bonaparte) who offers his services to Martin Borradale, owner of the station, as a hired laborer. Though the last murder took place a year ago, Bony is convinced that he can track the killer--after all, he's not left a crime unsolved yet. When there is another attack--this time leaving the victim alive, but with a dangerous head injury, Bony finds himself next on the killer's attack list. Fortunately, the wily detective is able to escape with only a bruised throat. 

He starts with a list of eleven men as possible suspects and with patient questioning he's able to whittle the list down to five. He believes he knows who the man is and why he behaves as he does, but there's no proof. Meanwhile, a clueless detective from the nearest city has arrested a man whom Bony is sure is innocent. He decides to prepare a trap that will be sprung during the next violent windstorm....but will it catch the right man?

Another excellent mystery from Upfield--full of excellent descriptions of the outback and details enough of the windstorms to make you feel the sand stuck to your skin. Bony is good at slipping into the skin of an itinerant laborer (with Borradale's full knowledge of his true identity), though he doesn't manage to fool the landowner's sister for long. I was quite pleased with myself that I spotted the killer and his backstory well before Bony did--at least before Upfield allowed us to know that Bony did. I don't often get to the solution before the good detective. 

If you want a mystery that will give you a run for your money with great descriptions of place as well as a real feel for Australia in the 1930s, then you can't go wrong with Upfield. Just remember when these were written and that folks weren't exactly PC at the time. ★★★★

First line: It was a wind-created hell in which the man who called himself Joe Fisher walked northward towards the small township of Carie.

In, general, murderers are the most stupid of criminals, prone to commit a hundred mistakes. They are more stupide than embezzlers. I believe that it is the fear of the rope which upsets the average murderer and makes him make mistakes. Even the really clever murderer, the odd one in the hundred, will make at least one vital mistake. Not always, however, does the investigator see, or recognize, the mistakes, so that it is always the investigator who fails to sheet home a crime and not the cleverness of the criminal to get away with it. (Inspector Napoleon "Bony" Bonaparte; p. 45)

Last line: "And you," loudly asserted Detective-Inspector Napoleon Bonaparte, "are another!"
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Deaths =  7 (two strangled; four natural; one shot)

July Vintage Scavenger Hunt Reviews

 

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The Eve of the Wedding

 The Eve of the Wedding (1980) by Lionel Black (Dudley Barker)

Kate and Henry Theobold have just met the Shoeburys--Americans Dick and Felicity-Ann. Dick Shoebury's and Henry's clubs are corresponding clubs, so Dick has temporary membership while in London for his daughter's wedding. The two men hit it off immediately and invites Dick and his wife for dinner. The Shoeburys reciprocate by inviting the Theobolds to a good old-fashioned German Polterabend--a noisy prenuptial party on the evening before the wedding which includes a mock abduction of the bride and a scavenger hunt by the groom to find his intended. Dick thought this would be a great idea--better than separate a separate bachelor and hen party. Is either family German. Not that anybody mentions. Are any of the family members particularly excited about the idea. Not that you'd notice. Is there any reason on earth why a couple of newly-met "friends" would want to crash such a pre-wedding party? Not that I can think of on the face of it.

But...Kate is a newspaper reporter. And when Dick mentions that the German marriage custom has loose ties to the idea of poltergeists...and that the groom's family home has its very own poltergeist, Kate is intrigued. And determined to get a story out of it if she can. Little does she realize that she's going to have an even bigger story by the end of the party. As the back cover says, "By the time this party's over, it has ended in tragedy: a bride in hysteria, a groom with murder in his heart, and a corpse in the study." Philip Leatheridge is the groom...and his brother Gregory is the corpse.

The Leatheridge family home is full of oddities--from the patriarch, Grandfather James, and Auntie Sybil & Uncle Rupert, who all seem to have stepped out of late-Victorian times, to Gregory, the grandson who has somehow seized control of the family business, and his down-trodden wife Cynthia to Julia, the great-granddaughter who is just the right age to encourage poltergeists to the faithful servants Mr. & Mrs. Budd. Mr. Budd looks like he might have been a burglar in another life...and probably was. And, of course, there's the poltergeist--who has shoved Dick Shoebury in the back when no one else was around and broken mirrors and tossed a bit of furniture about. When Gregory is found stabbed in the study, Auntie Sybil insists that the poltergeist has taken up dagger-throwing as its newest trick. But Kate and Henry--and their old friend Inspector Comfort--don't believe it for a minute. There are plenty of very real motives to be had without adding a supernatural element. It's obvious that Cynthia hated her husband--had she finally decided to get rid of him for good? And what juicy secret did Gregory know about his grandfather that would cause the old man to sign over the business? And then there's the hysterical bride--made so by the actions of Gregory. Was his brother furious enough over it to kill him? 

 Once again, Kate goes snooping all over the house and nearly finds herself added to the victim list. She definitely falls into the "where angels fear to tread" category and you'd think by now she'd realize that she shouldn't go off by herself. Of course, being one half of the amateur detective duo, we all know that she won't really be dropped out the window in an "accidental" fall, but still. The murder plot is a fairly good one, though I must say it has a bit of a creep factor that isn't chalked up to a supernatural entity. There's a couple of Leatheridge family members who seem to have a few screws loose. A solid, middle-of-the-road mystery. ★★★

First line: Kate left them in the living-room, where Henry was busily stirring dry martini for their guests, and went through to the kitchen to get the soup bowls of cold consomme out of the fridge.

Last lines: The pair of them were quite calm again now. Civilized.
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Deaths =  2 (one auto accident; one stabbed)

A Conspiracy of Poisons

 A Conspiracy of Poisons (1977) by J. G. Jeffreys (Ben Healey)

Synopsis (from book flap): The ace of Bow Street Runners, rollicking, resourceful, womanizing Jeremy Sturrock, and his dreadful clerk Master Maggsy, are back again, this time called on to investigate a Napoleonic plot which may threaten the safety of Britain in an ingenious and carefully worked-out mystery.

The year is 1804, and the trail leads from a beautiful but mysteriously poisoned prostitute to the grisly digging up of a still more mysterious corpse, back to the salons of a fashionable brothel, and on to a headlong ride to the wilds of Savernake Forest.

Once upon a time, a young Bev read A Wicked Way to Die (the second book in the Jeremy Sturrock series) and pronounced it good enough to put Jeffreys on the TBF (To Be Found) list. This resulted in my picking up both the current read (book #4) and Suicide Most Foul (book #5) along the way. I've not come across the first or third in my book hunts. And now, having finished, A Conspiracy of Poisons, I'm left wondering just what the heck young Bev was thinking. Sturrock has a fine head on his shoulders for detective work in these early days of the Bow Street Runners, I will give him that. But you'd need to do a hefty bit of detective work yourself to find a more unsavory cast of characters (every single one of them, from the "good" guys to the bad guys) in a piece of historical detective fiction. 

With the language of the book (which does its best to give us early 19th Century speech and writing patterns), it's a bit of a slog to make one's way through to the essential details. And with several characters running around under more than one name, it's a bit difficult to keep up with the players (with or without a scorecard)--especially keeping track of which ones might be minions of the chief villain. That's the good news. Once the chief villain is introduced, there's no problem remembering who they are. Unless you were looking for a good old-fashioned whodunnit and wanted to try and figure out the villain from clues. Then it's bad news, I suppose. 

We've also got a run of pretty senseless murders. The first one makes the most sense--we're afraid the woman is going to give away the whole plot against the British crown. But one is pure mistake and another is for reasons I still haven't gotten clear (and I read that bit twice). All in all, a fairly disappointing read. I can only suppose that either A Wicked Way to Die was a much better mystery or that young Bev wasn't nearly as jaded as she is now. I'll probably go ahead and read the last Jeffreys book I own--but unless it's much better than the ★★ outing I've just had, I won't be seeking out any more. 

First line: "Pray, Mr. Sturrock," said my publisher, tapping his fingers on the desk, "pray," says he, "let us have a work of more weighty matter."

Last line: I cheered as loud as Master Maggsy when His Majesty emerged from the sea.
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Deaths = 6 (four poisoned; one stabbed; one shot)

Spellbound

 Spellbound (apa The House of Dr. Edwardes; 1927) by Francis Beeding (John Leslie Palmer & Hilary St. George Saunders)

This is the novel that the Hitchcock movie featuring Ingrid Bergman and Gregory Peck was adapted from. It revolves around a "House of Rest" (for which, read a mental asylum) which serves as a haven for the imbalanced rich and a place where Dr. Edwardes, who owns the castle on the on mountain, can study interesting cases without worrying about money. The house, a literal fortress, sits in a circle or rock surrounded on three sides by the sheer slope of a desolate mountain in Switzerland. When night comes, it is a great crouching black hulk which the townspeople claim is the home of the Devil himself.

Constance Sedwick is a recently qualified doctor. Dr. Edwardes is an old friend of her father's and Edwardes offers her the position of his assistant. But before she arrives, Dr. Edwardes was sent away by his own doctor for a much needed rest and she finds a young Dr. Murchison, a doctor brought in from England, in charge of the asylum. At first all seems well, but Murchison has some odd quirks--reading books about the Devil and flinching when the shadow of a cross falls on him. There is also the funeral of one of the attendants at the hospital--murdered by the newest inmate. And a tale told by the villagers of blood which appears on the white stone in the black wood whenever the Devil is about. 

Things get worse...the inmates, who were fairly docile and benign in their own delusions begin to act in strange, more menacing ways. They talk about a wedding to come and begin patrolling around Constance's room at night..."to protect her." But she believes there is danger coming. Can she escape it--and take the innocent with her?

A very interesting read. I haven't actually seen the Hitchcock film (one of several of his films that I have yet to see), so I didn't have any preconceptions going in. Quite suspenseful, though I was a little disappointed that Constance didn't catch on to what was going on a little sooner. The characters are great--particularly the patients at the asylum. Beeding does a great job making each one distinct so it's easy to keep track of who is who. 

This is very much a "how will the heroine get out of this?" and "will the villain get away with it?" kind of story rather than a whodunnit. It's pretty obvious (to the reader, if not to Constance) pretty quick what's going on here...it's just a matter of how will everything be resolved. Now I want to go watch the movie. ★★★★

1st Line (Prologue): Dearest Helen, How delightful to get your letter, which we found waiting for us at Thonon.

John is an angel, but I shouldn't care to take a honeymoon with anybody; so don't be rash, and if ever you feel in the consenting mood, which so often happens, pull yourself together and think it over. Fortunately, John and I agree about all the most important things. What I mean is that we both like to sleep with the window open. (p. 7)

1st Line (1st Chapter): Constance Sedgwick, M.D., aged twenty-six, was staring at herself critically in the long mirror.

Fortunately for Doctor Edwardes, lunacy is not confined to the poorer classes; and he had treated in his time more than one poor gentleman who, if ha had not been sitting so comfortably in Chateau Landry, might have been sitting rather less at his ease, though possibly quite as much at home, in the House of Lords. (p. 13)

Last Line: I must stop now or I shall be losing the post. We are moving on next week to Bordighera and Alaisso. My best love to you all, Always your affectionate Susan"
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Deaths =6 (two fell from height; two stabbed; one natural; one in war)

June Vintage Scavenger Hunt Review

 

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The Six Iron Spiders

 The Six Iron Spiders (1942) by Phoebe Atwood Taylor

Asey Mayo has arrived at his Cape Cod home for two days of leave from his war work at the Porter tank plant. He's expecting a little rest and relaxation. What he gets is mass confusion from start to finish. He had sent a telegram to his cousin/housekeeper Jennie warning her of his arrival and requesting a ride home. No one meets him at the station and he has to hitchhike and walk home. When he gets to his house, it looks like a bunch of lunatics have taken over, with his cousin as the chief looney. Splints and bandages are being wielded on a dummy. Everybody is zipping in and out of the rooms on mysterious errands. His friend Doc Cummings stops him from going in--telling him that he'll only be recruited for First Aid treatment and other entertainments that he wants no part of. 

Before Asey can make up his mind about that, Jennie blows a whistle and the entire gang comes rushing out of the house--mounting bicycles, jumping into cars, and even starting up a horse-drawn wagon. They're off on a "Problem"--a mock accident at a surprise (to all but Jennie) location. And they all have to get there by whatever means they can as quickly as they can. Now that the coast is clear, Asey and Doc get into the house in search of supper for the weary traveler. But instead of dinner, they find Philemon Mundy, one of the First Aid group, dead in the buttery from a bash on the head. He's apparently been laid out by an iron "spider" (a cast iron skillet). And, of course, New England's answer to Sherlock Holmes, will have to find out who killed him and why the body was stashed in Asey's larder.

Winds up that there may be a few folks with reason to get Mundy out of the way. He'd recently come to the area and already had his fingers in several of the pies. Perhaps he stepped on one too many toes. Even Jennie had been known to have words with him. But were any of the toes crumpled hard enough to warrant murder? What follows is one of the most convoluted pieces of detection I've come across in a long time...and it's full of folks shouting at one another (generally not in anger) and not letting other folks get a word in edgewise (even as the shouter is demanding said other folks to answer them). Doc Cummings shouts at Asey--because he thinks Asey's not telling him everything. Lieutenant Hanson shouts at pretty much everybody. Asey even "shouts" (though in a much quieter way) at Doc and Hanson and a few of the other characters. The mystery might have been solved a bit quicker if people had just been allowed to talk...

I find with Taylor's books (more so in her Leonidas Witherall series) that there is a definite B movie feel to a great many of them. With all the rushing about and people talking at cross purposes and some of the over-the-top characters, like Tiny Hazard, the large, feminist woman in search of a man, I can picture this as movie in the line of an Abbott and Costello film. This makes for great fun and much confusion and it definitely makes it difficult for the reader to keep track of the players...or the clues...or the motives. If you're looking for a fast read with a lot of fun and don't mind not being able to solve the mystery before Asey tells you all about it, then you'll enjoy this one.

One side note--this is one of few mysteries written during the war years that makes a great deal of the home front war effort. It's played for laughs, but we do get to see what folks were doing--clothing drives, learning First Aid, organizing rescue parties, etc. 

 ★★★★

First line: Asey Mayo heard the thin ice coating of the puddles crack under his feet as he dashed along the lane in the fruitless pursuit of his best gray felt hat, which capered like a chamois just beyond the reach of his outstretched hand.

"Hanson, in your vast an' varied experience, has it ever been the rule for bodies to disappear from the place where you found 'em? No, it ain't! It ain't been my experience either," Asey said. "The doc an' I figgered that if someone'd gone to all the trouble of leavin' Mundy in my buttery, then that was the place where they meant to leave him, an' the place where they meant him to be found. It never for a minute entered our heads that someone'd fly in through a keyhole an' whisk him away." (p. 84)

"I suppose she's been reading the back of the First Aid book again. I don't think it's sensible to read the back of any book till you come to it, do you? I mean, I think you should take things as they come. Father always reads the ends of mystery stories first, and I don't think it's fair." (Tiny Hazard; p.178)

Last line: "It's because I can't hardly wait to get back to the peace an' quiet of the Porter tank plant!"
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Deaths = two hit on head

The Buttercup Case

 The Buttercup Case (1958) by Frances Crane (#22)

Pat Abbott has just wrapped up a case in New Orleans and his old friend, Captain Bill Jonas invites Pat and his wife Jean to join him at his little get-away spot--cabins on the plantation of Etienne Lamont. The three are included in a lavish dinner birthday party planned for Etienne's wife, Stella. The other guests include Etienne's sister Suzanne, his daughter Anne, Anne's beau Mark Mason, a sister-in-law Crystal, and the local doctor, Dr. Dick Cox. But before anyone can have a bite of the delicious southern meal, Etienne's sister Suzanne dies most dramatically. Both Jonas's and Abbott's detective instincts are aroused and Bill draws the ire of the Lamont family by insisting on an autopsy since the symptoms look like poison to him. Winds up he's right...but it's snake poison and Suzanne loved to wander through plantation looking for plants for her garden and just might have been bitten. 

Despite the family's antagonism towards anyone "snooping" into their affairs, neither Jonas nor Abbott can resist investigating and they discover several family skeletons hidden in the antebellum closets. There's Etienne's missing brother Jack--the black sheep of the family who is wanted by the FBI (and whose wife Crystal suspects is back in the neighborhood), Crystal herself, whom the Lamont family loathes and who helped Jack run through his inheritance like water, Dora Lindley, Dr. Cox's nurse who worships the ground Doctor walks on and who loathes the Lamont family for reasons not quite clear, a deaf-mute family retainer by the name of Frenchy who looks an awful lot like Etienne's great-grandfather, and Marie-Laure, an old servant to the Lamont family, who paints in her spare time and whose latest masterpiece seems to hold clues to recent events.

Things really hot up when both Frenchy and the missing Jack wind up killed and Marie is attacked in her own cabin. Her latest painting is also stolen and burned. What does the old woman know and why won't she talk? Even Pat, at his most charming, can't get her to tell everything she knows. It's an uphill battle for the detectives to discover the motive behind the killings and to unmask the killer--but Pat Abbott gets there in the end.

Two Crane mysteries in a row where Pat Abbott is asked by at least one person involved to investigate and then everyone (including the persons who do the asking) resents his detecting ways and wants him to leave. It's really quite tiresome. And just about everyone in this one shouts at him at some point--Bill Jonas shouts that the Lamonts are his friends, so stop making them mad. Etienne Lamont shouts and keeps insisting that Pat, Jean, AND Bill need to leave (but never really forces them to). And even Dr. Cox shouts when it seems Pat is asking the wrong questions (wrong for somebody, anyway). Oh...and, although it's toned down a bit, we still have Jean assuming that Pat is more interested in the females in the case than he ought to be. She really comes across as an insecure wife.

I couldn't really enjoy this one much. The entire Lamont family is pretty annoying and/or just down-right rude. I honestly didn't care much who was killing them (and their servants) off. I couldn't understand Jonas's loyalty to them especially when it looked at times like he'd side with them over Abbott. He's known Pat Abbott for a long time and he knows Pat's a good private detective. He knows Pat doesn't look for crime where it doesn't exist just for fun. And I spotted the killer way too soon--enter character X and "boom" there's the killer. Well...not quite. But almost. 

The one thing that Crane has going for her in this one is her descriptive abilities--atmosphere and descriptions of the plantation, cabins, and southern mansion. She does it well and, apart from her cattiness over everything female, Jean Abbott provides entertaining commentary on the proceedings--oh, and she has a nice scene where she fends off a threat from a gun-toting man. All stars are for these points. ★★

First line: She died at forty-one minutes past six on a lovely spring afternoon.

Last line: And it was then that he began to worry for fear Arnaud's bisque was superior to his own.
*****************

Deaths =  4 (two poisoned; two shot)

The Cat Who Could Read Backwards

 The Cat Who Could Read Backwards (1966) by Lilian Jackson Braun

Synopsis (from the book blurb): When leathery crime reporter Jim Qwilleran gets stuck on an art beat, he expects tea and cakes with the ladies' auxiliary. Instead he ends up in the middle of a bitter knock-down brawl between some of the "nicer" people in town! Heated words turn to bloody deeds when an art dealer gets his throat cut...an artist "falls" from a rafter onto a concrete floor...and art critic suffers the ultimate criticism--a KNIFE in the ribs! Everybody's stumped--everybody, that is but a Siamese cat with some very odd reading habits!

This is the first book in Braun's popular "Cat Who..." series. Once upon a time I read one of these books (The Cat Who Ate Danish Modern, the second book)--I got it through the Mystery Guild book club--and thought it a decent read. I also read The Cat Who Saw Red since starting my blog. I could have sworn that I had read this one as well--but if I did, I never logged it on my running list of books read. But--whether I read more than just two or not--I never really bothered to go on with the series. It's an interesting concept. Our hero is Jim Qwilleran, a news reporter for the Daily Fluxion, who as the series progresses winds up with two Siamese cats, Koko and Yum Yum. Qwilleran used to be a crime reporter--quite a good one--until a rough divorce resulting in depression and a problem with alcohol caused him to lose his job. 

Here in the the series debut he has taken a job with the Daily Fluxion and in an effort to his way back to respectability. He is offered the art scene beat--not as an art critic (the paper already has one of those--more on him later), but as a feature journalist to write up human interest stories on the artists and gallery owners themselves. The managing editor is hoping to balance human interest against the scathing (but fairly popular) critical reviews by George Bonifield Mountclemens. A good review by Mountclemens could mean fame for an artist while a bad review could cost a sculptor a hefty commission (and does!).

Qwilleran's first assignment is to interview Cal Halapay, a wealthy local who does oil paintings featuring kids with curly hair and rosy cheeks in his spare time. Mountclemens has frequently torn Halapay apart in his review column. But the Fluxion would like to do a nice little human interest story on him to build up a little good will (and maybe some financial support)...But interviewing Halapay isn't as easy as it sounds. It's like trying to interview a hyperactive spaniel who's got his eye on several squirrels at once. While Qwill is trying to find a good angle to the story, he gets distracted by a little death spree in the art world. 

First, Earl Lambreth, owner of a local art gallery is killed. Then, the sculptor known as Nino (as in 9-oh) falls to his death during an art Happening (yes, we have "Happenings" instead of Events). Mountclemens is the third to die and Qwill isn't just interested because of his involvement in the paper or because of the savage reviews that may have caused someone to seek revenge...but the art critic had become Qwill's landlord--offering the new reporter an apartment in his large Victorian house. And Mountclemens' Siamese Cat Kao K'o-Kung (nicknamed Koko by Qwill) is taking a great interest in the matter. With the help of Koko, Qwill will eventually get to the bottom of the murders.

Slight Spoiler Ahead!

I'm glad that I needed on of the other books in the 3-in-1 Detective Book Club edition for another challenge and that it spurred me to go ahead and read the other two (including this Braun book). It was good to go back to the beginning of the series and see how Qwill, who has never interacted with cats much before, gets acquainted with the highly intelligent Koko. Full disclosure, this isn't an intricately plotted mystery with clues and red-herrings everywhere. The villain of the piece kind of pops up out of nowhere. I don't mean that the character never appeared till then--just that once introduced, I promptly forgot about them and didn't really notice them if they appeared elsewhere along the way. If there were clues that should have told me that they did it, I completely missed them. (But I don't honestly think they were there.) None of that mattered, though. I enjoyed riding along with Qwill as he stumbled into one situation after another and then followed Koko to the solution. ★★★  and 1/2

One side-note: Jim Qwilleran's mustache has more personality than some human characters I've come across in books. It dances and bounces in indignation and supposedly says things that Qwill is thinking, but dare not say aloud. Like "who-the-hell-wants-a-nice-clean-beat?" 

Kate over at Cross Examining Crime has also just recently reviewed this one (and also notes the active mustache). Check out her thoughts on Qwill's first mystery at the link.

First line: JIm Qwilleran, whose name had confounded typesetters and proofreaders for two decades, arrived fifteen minutes early for his appointment with the managing editor of the Daily Fluxion.

Last line: Then he twisted his lithe body into a tortured shape, turned up his nose, crossed his eyes, and scratched his ear with one hind leg and an expression of catly rapture.
********************

Deaths = 3 (two stabbed; one fell from height)

The Evil That Men Do

 The Evil That Men Do (1966) by Hugh Pentecost

Doris Standing, the world's second richest girl, has spent her youth looking for kicks. She and her jet-setting friends, known as Doris' Standing Army, enjoy playing cruel practical jokes on prominent members of society--from ruining the comeback of a once great singing star to destroying the political career of a conservative's bid for a governorship to making a fool of a fading romantic leading man. It's all fun and games to them--even when the games lead to heartbreak, madness, or worse. But this time something has happened that Doris can't face. She comes to the Beaumont Hotel under the name of Dorothy Smith and claims that she has no memory of the last three weeks. But she's sure that something dreadful has happened. When her Army shows up at the hotel, the unflappable manager, Pierre Chambrun is determined to keep them from sullying the good name of the Beaumont. But can he defend it against murder?

Someone is killing members of the Standing Army. Has Doris had enough of their cruel humor and decided to free herself from them--permanently. Or could it be that Gary Craig, the man who loves her no matter what she's done, has decided to liberate her from their evil influence? Or perhaps someone injured by one of their cruel tricks has decided to get revenge. Chambrun, his hotel staff, and Lieutenant Hardy from Homicide will have to find out quick...before the killer wipes out the entire Army.

Pentecost gives us an interesting puzzle even as he peoples the mystery with some very unlikeable characters. It's difficult to be very upset when member of the Army are picked off one by one. They haven't exactly had a lot of compassion for the people whose lives they've ruined or much (if any) remorse about those who took their own lives because they couldn't recover from the "joke." But I still enjoyed trying to figure out who is behind the killings. There are a few clues that an observant reader might catch (I didn't), so Pentecost does try to play fair if you're looking for that kind of thing. If you want a mystery that will give you the full flavor of the 1960s and a peek at the running of a high-class hotel, then this is definitely a series for you. Chambrun is the king of his little village and Mark Haskell makes for a good right-hand 

man in the Archie Goodwin tradition (with a few less wise-cracks). A good solid entry in the series. ★★★ 

First line: It was shortly after five o'clock in the morning when a young woman got out of a taxi in front of the Hotel Beaumont, paid the driver, and walked through the revolving door into the hotel's lobby.

Last lines: And there is Chambrun. Without him, there would be no Beaumont.
*****************

Deaths = 6 (three natural; three shot)

Squire of Death

 Squire of Death (1965) by Richard Lockridge

The book opens with James McLaren arriving home from a business trip to find his wife missing. There's a note left behind that tells him that's she gone away to think things over because "things have gotten out of hand." While it's true that they had had a few squabbles before he left--primarily over her career as a singer, McLaren didn't really think it had gotten that bad. And...there's something not quite right about the note she left.

Quickly he walked back to his bedroom, where the letter she had written him lay flattened on his dresser. He looked intently down at the letter and then took it up and read it once more.

For an instant there seemed to be only one word in the letter Lucile McLaren had written to her husband. That word was  wrong.

We leave McLaren puzzling over his personal problems to find Lieutenant John Stein, Detective Paul Lane, and Assistant District Attorney Bernie Simmons knee-deep into an investigation of the murder of Jefferson Page--a financier engaged to Teresa Langley (who is in line to be wife number four) and waiting for a divorce from Isabel, the current Mrs. Page. Mrs. Langley insists that Charles Halstead has killed Page. That Halstead, who had been so "kind and gentle" while she was mourning the death of her first husband and who probably hoped to be considered as the next in the husband sweepstakes, had uttered threats against Page. Had warned her against Page. And had killed him. There's just one snag. Halstead was at Le Cafe Bleu all the evening that Page was shot and there are three witnesses who say he never left the restaurant.

Stein and Lane start digging into everyone's statements and looking for other motives and Simmons, who admits to being nosy and poking that nose in where detectives ought to be going, also does the rounds. And then McLaren (an old classmate of Simmons') brings the story of his missing wife to the Asst. D. A. It ought to be a job for the Missing Persons Department, but...Joan Southey (Lucille's stage name) was the singer at Le Cafe Bleu until the Saturday night when Page was killed and Halstead was apparently parked in his usual booth. The brothers who run the restaurant for Halstead say that she gave notice (very abruptly) that night and just walked out. But Simmons (and McLaren) begins to wonder if Lucille saw (or didn't see) something that night that has resulted in her disappearance. Then one of the three witnesses is killed in a hit-and-run accident...and it becomes even more imperative to find the singer and find out what she knows. If she's still alive....

Okay...so I didn't put any spoiler alerts on this because it becomes obvious real soon who is behind the killing of Page. There aren't any viable alternate suspects despite Lockridge trying to dangle a few pale pink herrings in front of us. The real questions is whether that person is responsible for everything that happens after Page's death. That adds a bit more spice to the pot--though I must say that I think Richard Lockridge was really missing Frances and her plotting abilities here. I wouldn't say that the Lockridge books were ever intense puzzle-plots, but those that were joint-written have better plots with a little more in the way of suspects and possible motive. That's not to say that I don't enjoy the books written after Frances's death. They just have a different flavor and aren't quite up to the mark of those which came before. ★★★ --just

First line: It was good to be back in the tight, close-knit city.

Last line: We shall not, I think, go to Le Cafe Bleu.
*********************

Deaths = 4 (one shot; two natural; one run over by car)

These Names Make Clues

 These Names Make Clues (1937) by E. C. R. Lorac (Edith Caroline Rivett)
"Some of these names would have made quite good clues. I wonder if Coombe thought of that." (Chief Inspector Macdonald; p. 82)

Chief Inspector Macdonald is all set to have a quiet evening with a fire, pipe, and a book when he opens his mail to find an invitation to a treasure hunt party--hosted by a celebrated publisher whose firm had published a detective novel that the Scotland Yard man had criticized (without knowing the identity of the man). Mr. Graham Coombe would like the real life detective to come and pit his wits against authors who devise fictional mysteries in a treasure hunt featuring literary, logical, and practical clues. He pretty much decides that he may look like a fool whether he goes or stays home--if he doesn't outwit the authors he'll have shown that his criticism was meaningless and if he doesn't go then Coombe can say he wasn't willing to put his money where his mouth was.

Then Peter Vernon, journalist and sometime-aide to the causes of justice (as pursued by Macdonald) shows up and talks him into going. Vernon was invited as well, but has to beg off due to a prior journalistic commitment. He wants Macdonald to go and then give him a scoop on who was invited and what the party was like and...who won. So Macdonald goes. Everyone is given a literary nom de plum and the festivities begin. Then comes a lights-out moment that was not part of the treasure hunt plan and when the lights come back on "Samuel Pepys" (aka thriller writer Andrew Gardien) is dead. First appearances indicate heart failure--the man was known to have a weak hear, but further investigation makes Macdonald sure that Gardien received the shock of his life (literally) which resulted in his death. As Macdonald investigates, he finds that all roads lead to Reading. Or at least many of the suspects have connections to that small town. But what can Reading have to do with the man who wrote detective thrillers? Once Macdonald figures this out, then he can pinpoint the murderer.

One thing that made this book difficult reading (and which has been mentioned by others in their reviews) is everybody having more than one name. Keeping everyone straight was a bit difficult at times depending on who was talking. The basic motive wasn't difficult to figure out once a certain discovery was made by Macdonald, but that motive could have applied to just about any of the suspects. There wasn't a hope of figuring out the particular version of the motive that applied to the actual killer. As usual, Lorac's writing was superb and I enjoyed Macdonald and most of the characters Lorac gives us throughout the story.

Nominee for best character: Peter Vernon, even though he's not involved in the treasure hunt and disappears from view for a chunk of the story. He's the one who gives Macdonald a good push towards accepting the invitation and he comes in at the end for his mad-dash pursuit of Denzil Strafford (aka Thomas Traherne at the party). And what fun it is to watch him in pursuit. He's witty when talking to other people and keeps up an amazing inner dialogue with himself as he tracks Strafford to Reading (where there will soon be a meeting of the suspect minds). Overall, an enjoyable entry in the Macdonald case files. ★★★ and 1/2

First line: Chief Inspector Macdonald, stretching his long limbs into an adequate chair by his own fireside, was prepared to enjoy the sort of evening which he preferred to any other. His own company, a book (he and just got Peter Fleming's News from Tartary), a pipe, and a wood fire--these promised a perfectly satisfactory evening.

People's minds and memories don't stay put. They take colour from their contacts. (p. 55)

Nobody came here with a length of flex and a plan for fusing the lights just in order to commit murder in general. Murder is always particularised, selective and limited. (Miss Susan Coombe; p. 87)

Psychology, as a scientific study, is one thing. Your Freudian rag-bag simply nauseates me. You are neither psychic nor logical. (Miss Coombe; p. 91)

Well, if eminent historians take to crime they oughtn't to try being funny. (Inspector Jenkins; p. 101)

She was old enough to disregard scoffs at "pusseries" and "henneries," experienced enough to know that a man in the house does not always spell complete bliss for the wife who darns his socks, and in the autumn of a strenuous life she regarded "peace, comfort, and cuisine guaranteed by women for women" as the desirable factors in life. (p. 152)

The young people of to-day call detective stories "escape literature"! All stories are a means of escape--from the trivial round and common task. (Mrs. Etherton; p. 156)

Last lines: "Those are the clues of the Treasure Hunt, which helped me not at all. This is the list of the Treasure Seekers--and these names made clues."

*****************

Deaths = 3 (one electrocuted; two shot)

Who Killed Alfred Snowe?

 Who Killed Alfred Snowe? (1933) by J. S. Fletcher

Mr. Alfred Snowe, a frail and elderly antiquarian, is found strangled at the foot of his stairs. He apparently interrupted an intruder in his home. But did the culprit find whatever he came for? Snowe's nephew, Dr. Aubrey Snowe, is acquainted with Ronald Camberwell, a partner in the well-known Chaney and Camberwell Detective Agency. Fortunately, Camberwell has been playing cricket nearby and is ready and willing to plunge into the fray. Though Inspector Bailiss seems sceptical of "amateurs" at first, he soon welcomes the help of the private detective. However, try as they might, they can find no clues to point them towards a solution to the mystery. Even a mysterious note Alfred Snowe sent to his solicitor mentioning "a most important discovery" that will have "an effect of the most serious sort upon the lives and fortunes of more than one person" leads nowhere since nothing among Snowe's effects seem to indicate what the discovery might be or who might be affected. Until...

Alfred Snowe's will is read. For the most part, it's very straightforward, leaving all he had to his family--life interest shares to his sister and sister-in-law and the remainder to his niece and nephew. And then there's the two codicils. The first instructs that a certain antiquarian bookseller will be offered his library of books--in total (not to be sold piecemeal). Except for one book, A History of Wrenchester by Septimus Flood, which is to be handed over to the Bodleian Library at Oxford. Nothing odd there, except...when they go to find the Flood book, it's not there. Nothing by a nice little empty space on the shelf where it should be. And the local clergyman Canon Revington, who is also an antiquarian, is absolutely certain that the book was on the shelf on the night of Snowe's death. Was that where the important discovery was? And was that the object of burglar? Canon Revington assures the sleuths that he's handled the book often over the years and can think of nothing "important" (other than to historians) therein. 

The inquest is held--murder by person or persons unknown. And then a series of events happen--a solicitor's (not Snowe's) clerk, Skrimshaw, goes missing with 2,000 pounds in one pound notes stashed in small case. A bank clerk seems to know too much about both Snowe's and Skrimshaw's business. There are odd goings-on in a couple of tents on the local squire's property. Skrimshaw's favorite walking stick is found abandoned in a small boat. The local squire's very proper butler isn't telling all he knows. The trail takes Chaney, Camberwell, and Bailiss to Paris and back to a lonely farmstead where the trail ends with a small fortune and nice, old-fashioned shoot-out.

Fletcher, it seems to me, loves a good whodunnit with a thriller ending. Our story begins with a classic whodunnit--murder of a fairly unoffensive man; detectives hunt for clues and track down and interview suspects. Then we move into thriller territory--a "superior" villain who seems untouchable (despite our heroes now knowing precisely who's behind everything); a dash to another country in pursuit of said villain; surreptitious surveillance of the bad guy/s at a creepy abandoned farmhouse; much shooting with one hero injured and one poor, unnamed supporting good guy killed; nice, tidy ending with main villain killed (along with supporting villain and one unnamed henchman)--no expense for a trial (yay!).

I hadn't run across Camberwell and Chaney before--but Fletcher indicates that this isn't our heroes' first adventure (and a quick check of the internet shows me at least ten more with Camberwell (and, I assume, Chaney). I enjoyed this combination, especially in harness with Bailiss (one he got over his condensation towards "amateurs"). Clever gentlemen who seem to know exactly how to handle their business. Depending on the type of suspect/witness to be interviewed, either Camberwell or Chaney will take the lead. And each has his own methods of deduction which are interesting to watch put into practice. I will say that Fletcher needed to work a bit harder on camoflaging his villains. While it was fun to watch the detectives pursue their investigations, once met, it wasn't difficult who the main villain and supporting villain was. A bit more mud in the waters would have been good. But--overall a good read. ★★★ and 1/2

First line: I was in bed, half awake, at the Mitre Hotel at Wrenchester, about half-past six o'clock one fine morning in the June of 1924, when the night-porter came thundering at my door and roused me to awareness of the fact that he was not only there himself, but was accompanied by somebody who was loudly calling my name.

Last line: Everything was very silent there, but somewhere overhead sea-birds were calling.
*****************

Deaths = 6 (one strangled; two poisoned; one fell from height; two shot) Could have had two more if Fletcher had been thoughtful enough to name the good guy and henchman.

Murder in Bright Red

 Murder in Bright Red (1953) by Frances Crane

While Pat and Jean Abbott are visiting relatives, murder strikes. Honestly, if I heard the Abbotts were visiting anywhere within 50 miles of me, I'd be going on a little trip myself...anywhere as long as it was far, far away. Sally Carroll, an airline hostess that Pat and Jean (especially Pat, who travels often in his job as a private investigator) know slightly, has just become suspect number one in shooting death of her ex-fiance, Charley Pryor. Never mind that Charley jilted her a few years ago, has since married someone else, and Sally hasn't been pining away for him all this time. She was the last one seen with him at the country club, is sporting a black eye from the encounter, and gave his face a good scratching. 

Pat dives into the investigation and learns that Charley wasn't exactly beloved by all. There's a number of people who won't be sad that he's not among the living anymore--including his current wife. Just as he's beginning to track down clues, Pat suddenly becomes persona non grata--nobody wants him poking his nose into the case anymore--not Sally, not Philip Williams who made the call to Pat on Sally's behalf, not the cousin and heir of Charley Pryor, and especially not the Sheriff. Fortunately, the State Police Lieutenant doesn't mind a little help from an outsider and they work together to search for answers

But somebody really wants the Abbotts to go away. Pat is shot at by a man who's supposed to be helping, he winds up in a fist-fight, and Jean is nearly abandoned in an old well. Somebody tries to run them off the road and the Sheriff tries to run them out of town. Pat has a plan to catch the killer but will he be able to do so before the murderer claims more victims?

Not my favorite of the Abbott mysteries I've read. I couldn't really see the motives--both the motive for Pat being so invested in the mystery or the motive for the culprit. I latched onto the right person early on; primarily because they seemed to be so darn helpful for no apparent reason. But I don't think Crane did a good job conveying any clues that would tell us why they committed the crime. The reason makes sense when you know what it is, but you only know because Pat says it's so in the wrap-up. We didn't really see much in the way of detecting going on and what clues that did come to light seemed to do so accidentally. And...the whole subtext of Jean's jealousy was unnecessary. We're sixteen books into this series; I think we're all pretty clear that Pat must be crazy about her (otherwise he wouldn't keep her around to meddle in his cases). She should be too. ★★ and 1/2

First line: The telephone rang.

Last line: My husband gave me  one-eyed love look and said, "Are you crazy?"
**********************

Deaths = three shot

May Vintage Scavenger Hunt Reviews

 

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