Great Black Kanba by Constance and Gwenyth Little

Book Details

Originally published in 1944
Also known as The Black Express by Conyth Little

The Blurb

Who was she? Where was she going? And why?

All she knew about herself she got from a fellow passenger on the train. According to this dubious source, she was Miss Cleo Ballister, a pretty, shabbily dressed actress who had been struck on the head with a valise which had tumbled from an upper bunk and completely blotted out her memory. Now here she was en route to Melbourne to meet relatives she couldn’t remember ever having heard of before.

As the trip went relentlessly on, Cleo picked up a whole family – Uncle Joe, Aunt Esther, miscellaneous cousins, and two unknown boy friends, both of whom claimed to be engaged to her. Flickers of the past tantalized her memory, serving only to add to her frightened mental confusion. Finally murder boarded the Trans-Australian express, and Cleo Ballister was seriously implicated. A series of fantastic events build up to a climax that unveils a murderer and “Cleo’s” lost identity.

The Verdict

Fascinating story that blends suspense and whodunnit elements effectively, although be prepared to wait for the murder. The solution is clever and well clued although the way it is revealed is a little underwhelming.


My Thoughts

Those who have followed this blog for a while will know that I am a subscriber to the Coffee and Crime subscription box run by Kate at CrossExaminingCrime. It is always a thrill when I get book post, particularly as Kate always seems to pick out something by authors who are new to me. Great Black Kanba is a great case in point. Not only was the edition I received a beautiful Dell Mapback, the first in my collection, it was by two authors I knew relatively little about.

Constance and Gwenyth Little were Australian sisters who wrote together as Conyth Little in the 1940s and early 50s. I had seen several intriguing reviews for their work including some from Kate herself. This book, also sometimes known as The Black Express, comes from the middle of their careers and is set in that most appealing of all Golden Age locales – a train.

The hook for the story is that the narrator begins the story having completely lost her memory to the point where she does not remember her own name. Instead she is told who she is and where she is traveling to by a stranger who deduced that information from searching through her baggage. We quickly realize though that this information could be incorrect as the only identity document she has, a driving licence application for Sydney, does not feature a photograph.

Among the items in her purse is a letter from Uncle Joe who tells her that he and the family will meet her at Melbourne. She goes to the meeting as Cleo, assuming that her memory will simply return in time, keeping that a secret from them. Given that Cleo was to meet most of the party for the first time, their ready acceptance of her hardly proves the matter of her identity either.

Memory loss is one of those tropes that can feel really quite corny, in part because this sort of total memory loss is really, really rare and, I imagine, rarely caused by a falling valise. Given that the whole story is built around that idea it does mean that you do have to come to this with an acceptance of the artificiality of the setup. If you can accept that idea though I feel that the story takes that idea in some really interesting and entertaining directions.

One of the most stressful parts of the situation for “Cleo” is that she is met by two men, each claiming that they are engaged to her. While she is trying to work out who exactly she is, she also has to navigate these relationships and figure out which of them (if any) she can trust. It is not only an entertaining situation in terms of often awkward conversation, it does relate back to the core mystery of who she is as one of them shares some information about herself that she does not want to believe.

I found the discussion of the logistics of traveling across the Australian continent by rail to be utterly fascinating. Not only did this trip require multiple changes to one’s watch as you cross multiple time zones, you also needed to change trains on several occasions. This was not because you were needing to head in a different direction but because the Australian states had decided to use different rail gauges when building the network, making it impossible for a single train to complete a coast to coast journey.

The relationships between the Australian states has another interesting impact on the story later on, following the first murder. The complex question of jurisdictional authority crops up, creating an obstacle for the police forces in investigating that crime. These are just two examples of the ways that the novel’s setting and the train journey itself create an interesting backdrop to the crime investigation plot.

You may have noticed that while I have referenced murder, I have not shared any details of the circumstances leading to it. That reflects that we do not see a murder committed until over halfway through the book, long past the point I feel comfortable spoiling. Trust though that this is not simply an investigation into identity and that the Littles give us a compelling murder story too.

In her own review of this book, Kate shares her frustration with the book’s ending which she felt was rushed. I do understand what she means, although I thought that the explanation of what had happened was interesting and hung together very well. I definitely share the frustration though with the circumstances in which we learn that information.

Basically the trouble is that we have two different styles of narrative being forced to coexist. One is a psychological suspense story about a forgotten identity while the second is a more traditional murder story. Both are fascinating and there are some really interesting connections between those two story threads. The problem is however that while the first thread is responsible for turning up some of the information about the second, it is hard to say that the heroes really do much to bring about the ending. It is instead something that seems to happen to them. Similarly, the confession is something we hear rather than something that is actively brought about.

I do think it important to stress though that my issues with the ending are almost all presentational rather than substantive. While I may wish that the central characters were more directly responsible for solving the case, the actual solution to the murders is very clever and thoughtfully clued, pulling together several seemingly disconnected strands of the plot. I was largely satisfied, even if I wish that the final chapter had presented us with a more credible cause for the memory loss than the fallen bag explanation.

This was my first taste of the writing of Constance and Gwenyth Little but I am fairly confident that it will not be my last…

Columbo: Requiem for a Falling Star (TV)

Episode Details

First broadcast January 21, 1973

Season Two, Episode Five
Preceded by Dagger of the Mind
Followed by A Stitch in Crime

Written by Jackson Gillis
Directed by Richard Quine

Key Cast

Anne Baxter had played the female lead in Hitchcock’s I Confess, a film in which a priest cannot clear himself of a murder without disclosing information from a confession. I remember her best though as Olga the Queen of the Cossacks, one of the villains in the Adam West Batman series.

The Verdict

A fairly forgettable case though it does have a couple of interesting points and a solid performance from Anne Baxter.

Plot Summary

Nora Chandler was once one of the biggest stars in Hollywood but her career has long been in decline. A tell-all book in the works from gossip journalist Jerry Parks threatens to expose a scandal in her past that would end it. When she confronts Jerry about the book he tries to extort her to make the information he has found go away.

Nora discovers that Jerry has been seeing her personal assistant Jean and has arranged to meet with her that night. Instead Nora plans to keep Jean busy with a slew of pointless errands. Instead Jean skips out on them and the pair arrange a rendezvous later.

Unfortunately that rendezvous never happens as before they can meet Jerry’s car explodes…


My Thoughts

I should probably begin by confessing I am not particularly excited to write about Requiem for a Fallen Star. This is not because it is a particularly terrible episode of Columbo – I have seen worse already since starting this project – but because to discuss its most interesting idea feels like it would be spoiling it. I obviously do not want to do that so this will probably be quite short and vague. My apologies. Hopefully I can convey at least a general sense of what I think of the production.

While the previous episode featured lots of external location filming, Requiem for a Fallen Star feels much more familiar and contained. We had after all seen a film set in several scenes in the very first Columbo story Prescription: Murder and spent a little time in a television studio in Suitable for Framing. In spite of that though it is notable that this is the first time a case has centered on the film industry in spite of that being the business most would associate with LA.

Probably the most logical place to start with discussing the episode is with the character of Nora Chandler, the fallen star. The episode certainly gives us a good sense of the state of her career at this point though her past is a little more vague. We have little sense of what sort of actress she was other than that Columbo was a fan but we do know that much of her success was built around her now-deceased husband’s film studio.

I can imagine this sort of role would have offered considerable opportunities to overplay the character’s diva tendencies or artistic sentiment, giving the character a comical slant. This would have been a mistake, particularly coming just an episode after giving us two pretentious actor killers, so Anne Baxter’s forceful and determined take on the character is welcome and feels well judged. Nora may not be as memorable a character as those played by Susan Clark or Lee Grant but I feel that Baxter’s performance fits the character and helps bring her to life.

I was initially quite skeptical of Nora’s reasons for becoming a murderer, particularly given that the scandal Jerry Parks is threatening to expose feels rather dull. While it would certainly end Nora’s career and association with the studio it is hard to imagine it moving many books. Would the fear of those revelations really lead to murder? Happily Nora’s plan and motives for murder do become clearer as the episode goes on and by the end of the episode I felt convinced.

After a doubtful start, things pick up from the moment at which the car explodes. Unlike some other Columbo stories, we do not follow the killer closely as they set up the murder and so we learn many of the details after the fact. This does allow for a small but satisfying surprise (the one I alluded to earlier) and establishes a pretty interesting set of circumstances for Columbo’s investigation.

That investigation is fine and there are a few interesting discoveries. The problem is that I just didn’t feel particularly interested in the cat and mouse game between Nora and Columbo. The choice to make Columbo a fan of Nora’s feels rather awkward and I quickly grew tired of his fawning over her. I think Columbo tends to be at his best when he is getting under the skin of his quarry and unsettling them but there isn’t much of that here.

While I found the investigation rather dull, the episode does at least have a strong resolution. I often complain about trap endings and this is another example of that but I do feel that in this instance he is using it to confirm something he has already deduced. It is a variation on a classic mystery but it is done pretty well, making for a solid resolution to the story.

Whenever you watch a television show there are always some episodes that stand out because they are either very strong or weak. Requiem for a Falling Star sits right in the middle of the pack, being competently told but lacking a standout character or truly memorable set piece or situation. It is quite watchable and often entertaining but I suspect it will be one I struggle to recall a few months from now.

The Murder of a Quack by George Bellairs

Book Details

Originally published in 1942
Inspector Littlejohn #5
Preceded by The Dead Shall Be Raised
Followed by The Case of the Seven Whistlers

The Blurb

Nathaniel Wall, the local quack doctor, is found hanging in his consulting room in the Norfolk village of Stalden – but this was not a suicide. Wall may not have been a qualified doctor, but his skill as a bonesetter and his commitment to village life were highly valued. Scotland Yard is drafted in to assist. Quickly settling into his accommodation at the village pub, Littlejohn begins to examine the evidence…Against the backdrop of a close-knit village, an intriguing story of ambition, blackmail, fraud, false alibis and botanical trickery unravels.

The Verdict

Solid, middle-of-the-road Littlejohn with few surprises. Bellairs is always good at depicting rural England though and this is no exception.


My Thoughts

I am terrible at sticking to blogging plans. One of the main reasons I stopped doing my monthly review posts was that I never seemed to follow through on any of the things I predicted I would do. Something new and exciting would always crop up to distract me away from them. As anyone who has casually glanced at my TBR Pile will note, there is always a new distraction.

The Murder of a Quack was released as part of a double bill in the British Library Crime Classics range eighteen months ago. At the time I enthusiastically reviewed the first half of the book, The Dead Shall Be Raised, a title that I still regard as one of the best Littlejohn stories I have read. My plan had been to review this work the following month but unfortunately it got forgotten in the excitement of the new. Whoops.

The Wall family have been a fixture in the village of Stalden for centuries. While not formally trained as doctors, they have been trusted for their medical knowledge and alternative remedies. Nathaniel Wall has operated the practice now for many years and seems to be well liked and trusted by the villagers so it is a shock when he is discovered murdered and strung up with his bonesetting equipment in his office. Recognizing that the case has the potential to upset the locals, the police decide to send to the Yard for outside expertise and Inspector Littlejohn is dispatched to look into the matter.

Like the previous story in the collection, this is also a very short work at well under 200 pages. That is about the right length though for this case which, while entertaining, is more straightforward than some of his later works and hinges on a few simple revelations.

In my previous experiences with Bellairs’ work I have found him to be particularly adept at portraying countryside life and this work is no exception. We get to meet a variety of types here from a variety of backgrounds and social standings, giving a sense of the wider community and how people live there and interact with one another. While I am never a fan of exaggerated phonetic spellings to convey a voice which is used frequently here, I do appreciate the thought he gives to representing as broad a range of characters as possible with respect (there is a lovely exchange with regards a charwoman that stood out to me as a highlight).

Littlejohn soon discovers local rivalries and arguments, providing us with at least a handful of suspects, although I found some to be more convincing than others and had no difficulty identifying the culprit and working out the clues that were pointing there. This is perhaps not Littlejohn’s most puzzling case. In spite of that however, I was entertained by the process by which Littlejohn reaches that same result and gratified that my reasoning was proven correct.

While there are no shocking moments in the plot, each development is set up well and there are a few powerful moments with one of the best coming near the end. Bellairs writes well, maintaining a decent pace and balancing action and description effectively. Though I find his style to be more amusing than comical, there are plenty of reasons to smile and chuckle. One of my favorites, though probably quite obscure, accompanies the reveal of the very fitting name of a woman in Cornwall.

Beyond that it is hard to think of much to say about this work (this may be my shortest review here in about two years). It is solid and very representative of the other Littlejohn stories I have read that were written in this period. No big flaws but no strong reasons to seek it out. I certainly enjoyed it and liked it more than Death of a Busybody but found it to have fewer points of interest than the more complex The Dead Shall Be Raised. That story alone justifies the purchase of the British Library’s double feature and is, in my opinion, the chief reason to pick it up. Viewed as a bonus however this is worth the read but if, like me, it takes you eighteen months to get around to it you probably won’t end up beating up on yourself.

The Hound of the Baskervilles by Arthur Conan Doyle

Book Details

Originally Published in 1902
Sherlock Holmes #5
Preceded by The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
Followed by The Return of Sherlock Holmes

The Blurb

The country doctor had come to 221B Baker Street, the famous lodgings of Sherlock Holmes, with an eerie tale—the legend of the Hound of the Baskervilles, the devil-beast that haunted the lonely moors around the Baskervilles’ ancestral home. The tale warned the descendants of that ancient family never to venture out on the moor. But Sir Charles Baskerville was now dead—and the footprints of a giant hound have been found near his body. Would the new heir of the Baskervilles meet the same dreadful fate?

Sherlock Holmes and his faithful friend, Dr. Watson, are faced with their most terrifying case in this wonderful classic of masterful detection and bone-chilling suspense.

The Verdict

While I have issues with some loose plotting, this atmospheric story has some wonderful imagery.


My Thoughts

The Hound of the Baskervilles begins with Holmes receiving a visit from Dr. James Mortimer. He has come to consult him on the strange circumstances surrounding the death of his friend Sir Charles Baskerville who had been found dead on the grounds surrounding his home on Dartmoor.

The direct cause of death was a heart attack but Mortimer notes that his friend’s face seemed to be frozen in an expression of terror. Near the body the enormous footprint of a hound was found, leading some to speculate that he may have been killed by the demonic beast said to have been responsible for the premature death of many of Sir Charles’ ancestors.

Sir Charles’ heir has recently arrived in London and intends to take up the property but has received a warning urging him not to visit the moors. Holmes agrees to meet with him and, upon learning of some strange occurrences surrounding him, he decides he will send Watson with Sir Henry to Dartmoor to protect him and to try and uncover the truth of what is going on.

If Sherlock Holmes is, for many people, The Detective then The Hound of the Baskervilles must surely be The Detective Novel. It is a work that has enjoyed a tremendous reach thanks to countless adaptations and the clear influence it has had over many subsequent works in the genre. The only comparable titles I can think of in the genre would be Murder on the Orient Express or And Then There Were None.

I have previously shared my opinion that Holmes is a character that really doesn’t suit long form fiction as well as the short story. Both A Study in Scarlet and The Sign of Four have points of interest but I feel each has a structural problem. For those unfamiliar with those books, at the midpoint of each Holmes identifies a crucial figure and the remainder of the books becomes a historical tale explaining the background to the events we have witnessed.

What this means in practice is that only the first half of each book is a mystery – the remainder is explanation. The case, it seems, concludes long before the novel does. Given how energetic and driven the Holmes chapters are, the sudden switch to a slower historical storytelling feels very jarring and only emphasizes how little tension or sense of discovery there is in the second half of each book.

The Hound of the Baskervilles has quite a different structure and it is all the better for it. Rather than try to sustain Holmes’ bursts of energy throughout an entire novel, Doyle opts to keep him in the background for much of the more routine parts of the investigation and has Watson take the lead.

The decision to split up Holmes and Watson is to the benefit of both characters. Watson, able to act with more freedom and less scrutiny than usual in these stories, is given a chance to interview each of the characters involved at a more leisurely pace, share his own ideas about the case, and even have a memorable late night adventure of his own on the moors.

Holmes is then able to swoop back into the story at a critical point close to the end of the book and take over the investigation. At that point we have been so eagerly anticipating his direct involvement in the case that it makes that moment feel even more important and exciting. As he reenters the story very late in the proceedings, Doyle is able to naturally sustain Holmes’ incredible energy to build a pacy, action-driven and pretty satisfying conclusion.

The Hound of the Baskervilles not only fixes the principal problems with its two predecessors, it also retains one of the elements that was most successful in them. Each of the preceding novels contained horrific elements whether that was the gory message written on a wall in blood in A Study in Scarlet or Sholto’s terrible sense of fear in The Sign of Four. This novel also evokes a sense of fear but incorporates a stronger sense of the supernatural, particularly in those passages that describe the hound itself. Where previous stories have seen Holmes explain the inexplicable, here he has to rationalize what appears diabolical.

The most obvious horror element is the hound itself. Doyle does a lot well, including giving an intriguing origin for the beast and tying it to the victim’s own family history. Throw in the desolate landscape of the moors and you have something that I think really strikes the imagination. While part of the reason that this story gets adapted so often is the plotting, this story also features some really strong visual storytelling and plenty of elements that evoke a sense of atmosphere.

While I think this is a significant improvement on the two novels that went before it, I do have to point to some elements that I do not find entirely successful. The first of these is a crucial issue with the villain’s plans. Doyle himself clearly recognizes this – he actually has Holmes point it out and describe the problem – but then he flubs the opportunity to actually answer this, simply dismissing it as something they would have addressed later.

Is it unrealistic that someone may enact a plan without having every element thought through? Perhaps not. But I find it difficult to accept that someone would accept the degree of risk their plan entails with no certainty of the benefit. While I am no fan of the detective not having all the answers, surely someone could have provided one after the fact. It just feels very untidy.

Similarly there is an issue that Watson identifies at the end that Holmes tries to answer through conjecture. While the explanation Holmes posits would fit the facts, I feel it is a bit of a stretch to fit in with the other things we know about the villain’s personality.

My final issue with the book is that there is a moment where everyone seems to show a pretty breathtaking lack of humanity (ROT13: Gur qvfpbirel gung n qrnq obql vf abg Onfxreivyyr ohg gur pbaivpg). While this would certainly fit with the character of Holmes himself, I was surprised that others did not seem to be affected in any way by what has happened – particularly Watson.

Now others may suggest that this, like many of the Holmes stories, is more adventure than detective story. There is at least a grain of truth to this, particularly in the middle section of the book. In these chapters we do learn a few important points that seem to point to the guilty party but there are quite a few red herrings too.

I feel however that this is one of those cases where many of Holmes’ observations are grounded in solid, logical thought. Sure, the villain’s identity feels obvious from the start but Holmes’ reasons for dismissing the supernatural explanation and for forming his ideas about what was happening could be easily replicated by the reader being based on the application of some simple ideas and logic.

Though not perfect, The Hound of the Baskervilles feels like a much more cohesive story than either of the two previous novels. When I reviewed each of them I counselled that those new to Holmes would be best served to skip over those novels and return to them after reading the short stories. Clearly I am not advising the same here.

The Hound of the Baskervilles is not only one of the most famous Holmes stories, it is one of his more entertaining ones too.

The Vicar’s Experiments by Anthony Rolls

Book Details

Originally published in 1932
The American edition was published as Clerical Error that same year

Plot Summary

The Reverend Mr. Pardicott is struck by the idea that he should kill one of his parishioners, Colonel Cargoy. He sets about trying to devise a method by which he can eliminate him and finds his answer in a book of poisons…

The Verdict

Consistently amusing and well observed. Only the final few chapters underwhelm but the journey to that point is witty and entertaining.


My Thoughts

Those of you who listened to my appearance on one of the very early episodes of the In GAD We Trust podcast will be aware that another novel by Anthony Rolls, Family Matters, was largely responsible for my starting this blog. It also was the book that I credit as piquing my interest in inverted crime stories – an interest that you could fairly describe as having transformed into a fully-formed obsession.

Today’s post is not about that book. I will, no doubt, eventually get around to writing about that book in more detail though I feel I ought to save it for one of the big landmark posts. Instead I decided to read and write about Rolls’ first criminous novel which, depending on whether you read the British or American editions is either The Vicar’s Experiments or Clerical Error.

Now, before I go much further I should make it clear that this book is sadly long out of print. As you may expect it is rather expensive to acquire – I found that the American edition is cheaper but even that set me back $50. If this book interests you enough to search it out I strongly suggest looking for both titles and keep an eye on it appearing in some listings as by C. E. Vulliamy (Rolls’ actual name).

Okay, so that is more than enough introduction – what is the book about?

The Vicar’s Experiments introduces us to the Reverend Mr. Pardicott who presides over a small rural parish. He is in the middle of a meeting with Colonel Cargoy, a busybody who makes it his business to object to every proposal on the parish council. Pardicott is enduring the conversation when he is struck by the idea that he should kill the old soldier:

Up to a quarter past three, Mr. Pardicott might have been described as the gentlest of rural clergymen; at twenty minutes past three he was a criminal of the most dangerous kind. In a dizzy moment of revelation he saw that he had been chosen by the Inscrutable Purpose to be the destroyer of Colonel Cargoy.

The Vicar’s Experiments, Chapter One

Those seeking a detailed psychological portrait of the murderer will likely be disappointed with the treatment Rolls gives to motive. In the short passage quoted above we see Pardicott snapping as an idea occurs to him he simply cannot or will not shake. He appears to view himself as an instrument acting under some sort of divine instruction and much of what follows seems to only confirm that idea to him.

We do soon see though that Pardicott does have at least one other motivation. Although he himself is married, he has a growing attachment to Cargoy’s much younger wife. Pardicott does not focus on this and indeed, his interest in the experiments he will start to conduct seems to outgrow these beginnings, but they are at least there and I think it is a more satisfying explanation than his simply being mad.

Once Pardicott gets the idea of murder in his head he then sets out to figure out how he will accomplish his deed. Though Pardicott’s motivations for murder are not particularly complex, I found it interesting to follow him as he devised and brought about his plan. The method he decides on is quite novel and while scientifically complex, explained well. Before long the parish has one fewer resident and the question becomes what will happen next. If you are in any doubt, I would invite you to consider the original British title for a clue…

Published just a year after Iles’ enormously influential Malice Aforethought, there do seem to be some similarities between the two works. Both are set in the countryside and strike broadly humorous tones, making light of some pretty dark ideas. Each features someone in a profession traditionally held in esteem behaving badly, involve obscure poisons and in both cases sexual desire is at least a partial motivation for murder.

In spite of those similarities I think it would be a mistake to think The Vicar’s Experiments a derivative work. While psychology is a factor in both books, Rolls emphasizes his own belief that murder is almost always committed by the insane. Iles’ Dr. Bickleigh was clearly a man in control of his faculties, choosing to apply them to a dark purpose. Pardicott has become seduced by an idea that compels him to act and everything he sees appears to reinforce that he is acting in accordance with Providence.

Where much of Malice Aforethought is spent getting to a point where Bickleigh is able to commit the crime, Rolls dispenses of Cargoy early in the narrative. As a consequence of this, much more time is spent exploring what happens after the murder and how the local community responds.

Rolls also places far more importance on the detection of the crime, albeit while employing a rather ineffective sleuth. This investigation is not particularly rigorous, in large part because the person carrying it out is a man of pretty limited imagination and ability. The reader will likely identify multiple loose ends and clues that might point the sleuth in Pardicott’s direction – the question is whether they will notice them and, if so, what they will do.

Rolls is able to sustain much of the lively pacing and work in some humorous moments in the early part of the investigation. One of my favorites is a sequence involving discussion of church architecture which is done very well, featuring some amusing turns of phrase.

There is a definite shift of pace and tone however in the final few chapters of the book. These feel quite noticeably slower than what has gone before and the comedic elements largely disappear. This is understandable given the turn of events in those chapters of the novel and yet it does seem quite sudden and, in my opinion, it is not wholly successful.

I think that endings are often a problem with the more comedic inverted stories. If they were successful there needs to be some form of justice and yet it is hard to provide that while keeping the laughs coming. Those who are able to do it usually manage this by making that moment come quickly with an explosive, ironical reveal. This is part of what makes Malice Aforethought such a memorable read.

The Vicar’s Experiments sustains its comedic tone much longer and more successfully than most. It captures a rural community quite well and there are some very amusing observations and commentaries in the narration. One of my favorites isn’t really a gag at all in the usual sense but rather a sort of in-joke with complaints about the dreary church architecture of Lewis Vulliamy (the author’s grandfather – a fact hidden by the use of the Rolls pseudonym).

I appreciated that the characters are all pretty colorful and distinctive. There are some amusing observations about several of those in professional roles (some of the sharpest relates to the country doctor). On the other hand, the women suffer from not being given much to do and Pardicott’s wife feels largely peripheral to much of the story.

In spite of these flaws, I felt that The Vicar’s Experiments was a really entertaining read. If, like me, you are a fan of Rolls’ Family Matters I think you will find this enjoyable and worth your time. I found it consistently amusing and was impressed by how that tone was sustained for most of the book. The murder plot uses some clever ideas, some of which seem quite inventive, and while the investigation feels quite bumbling in comparison the book remains readable right until the end.

Columbo: Dagger of the Mind (TV)

Episode Details

First broadcast November 26, 1972

Season Two, Episode Four
Preceded by The Most Crucial Game
Followed by Requiem for a Falling Star

Teleplay by Jackson Gillis
Story by Richard Levinson and William Link
Directed by Richard Quine

Key Cast

The most familiar face for viewers will likely be Honor Blackman who plays Lillian Stanhope. She appeared in The Avengers as Catherine Gale but is best known for her performance as the definitive Bond girl, Pussy Galore in Goldfinger.

John Williams, playing the victim, Sir Roger Haversham, was best known for his role as Chief Inspector Hubbard in the film, television and stage plays of Dial M for Murder.

Finally I have to make mention of Wilfrid Hyde-White who plays a butler. He was one of those character actors I always enjoyed seeing pop up in British movies in the fifties and sixties but I remember him most fondly as Crabbin in my favorite film of all time, The Third Man. He is perfectly cast here and one of my favorite things about the episode.

The Verdict

Perhaps the most overtly comedic Columbo up until this point though much of it is variations on one idea. The case itself is a little slight but there are several fun moments for Columbo and the cast seem to be enjoying themselves.

Plot Summary

A pair of veteran thespians are thrilled to be back on the stage for a production of William Shakespeare’s Macbeth. On the eve of the production however their financial backer, Sir Roger Haversham, tells them that he has realized that he is being manipulated by them and has decided to pull the plug on the show.

The altercation between the trio turns violent and the pair end up accidentally killing him when he is hit in the head. Realizing that no one had seen Haversham enter the theater the pair decide to transport his body back to his home and stage an accident.

Columbo happens to be visiting London to learn more about the latest practices at Scotland Yard. His guide, Detective Chief Superintendent Durk, happens to be related to Haversham and brings Columbo with him as he visits the estate. While Durk seems to accept it as an unfortunate accident, Columbo cannot help noticing details pointing to murder…


My Thoughts

Previous episodes of Columbo had often featured comedic characters or subplots but Dagger of the Mind is, to my mind, the first episode to be written and played primarily as comedy.

The main joke running through the episode is that the two thespians, Lillian Stanhope (Honor Blackman) and Nicholas Frame (Richard Basehart), are both terrible hams. This not only is evident in the short clips we see of them on stage but in their conduct off it. Whether talking about treading the boards or giving a teary performance at the funeral in front of Columbo under the impression he is from the press, the pair are often made to look ridiculous and out-of-touch with reality.

The excesses of theatrical types was a familiar comedic theme even back in the early 70s and it is frequently returned to here. I happen to think it is done reasonably well but given most of the comedic moments are variations on this same theme some may feel that particular joke is worn out long before the end of the episode.

Both Blackman and Basehart seem to enjoy getting to play bad actors and both go for it, delivering plenty of ham. For the most part I enjoyed their performances though there are a few moments where I think they go too far. While the character of Stanhope has some quieter, more thoughtful moments, Basehart’s Frame seems to always be performing in some fashion. The unfortunate consequence of that is that the character feels less dimensional than many other Columbo killers.

That may be a reflection of how the pair happen to become murderers. In keeping with the lighter tone of the episode, they are shown to be opportunists rather than villains. They never intended murder but once it happens they have to cover it up to keep their play open.

Prior to this there was only one other Columbo story that features an accidental or entirely unplanned murder – Death Lends a Hand. Unfortunately I think neither case is particularly satisfying and I think it is this lack of planning or intent that has been the problem. In each case, the murderers appear to have no motive to want the victim dead and it seems clear that if they just kept their heads down things would go away. In order to make things happen in each story, the killers have to choose to engage with Columbo and they do it so awkwardly that it only draws his attention to them. I will be curious to see if I feel the same about any later unplanned murder stories.

I was struck by how Columbo seems much less active in this case than usual, both in terms of his own actions but also in screen time. He certainly pushes for the case to be seen as murder, doing so quite cleverly, but there are fewer interactions with the killers and there are fewer of his usual investigative tics and behaviors. He doesn’t, for instance, really press the pair on the points of the case. Perhaps this is meant to suggest he is trying to impress his hosts but it does feel almost out of character for him.

Still, while Columbo the investigator seems a little muted, there are some amusing moments where we can enjoy Columbo the awkward traveller. From the moment he first appears he seems to be even more bumbling than usual and much fun is had in seeing the baffled expressions of those British police he comes into contact with. It is not the strongest material Falk has had to work with but I feel he does so well. It probably helps that he is able to balance those moments with some more serious, crime-solving ones.

At this point we need to talk about the episode’s portrayal of Britain.

Let’s start with the good – there is some lovely location filming with Peter Falk visiting some London landmarks. While much of the episode was filmed in California, these sequences do look good, giving a decent sense of place and they are well integrated with the look of those other scenes. I also appreciate that they are not just filler but they also convey something of Columbo’s character such as when he tries to take photographs.

The portrayal of London however lacks authenticity. I was reminded of my experiences walking around the duty free shops at the airport – it feels like a series of settings and elements people associate with London rather than ones that make sense in the context of this case. In other words, this episode takes place in a perception of London based on books and films rather than attempting to give a true sense of place or time.

The case itself is not particularly complex compared to Columbo’s other cases. The evidence is relatively straightforward and because Columbo’s interactions with the killers are limited, there is relatively little misdirection or use of red herrings. As such, the resolution comes pretty quickly and feels quite simple. Unlike the previous few stories, here there doesn’t seem to be any point of confusion that Columbo needs to work through.

This means that the ending is similarly quite simple though there are some script, setting and performance choices that do make the ending feel a little more colorful. I quite like the location chosen which adds a touch of whimsy but I feel the last few moments of the episode go too far and read as silly, even though they fit the themes of the episode.

Clearly I had some problems with this episode but I must say that I felt this did have some pretty amusing and entertaining moments. I enjoyed several of the performances, particularly Wilfrid Hyde-White as the butler, and I am partial to its theatrical setting. I will never list it, or its pair of murderers, as series highlights but I did at least enjoy watching it.

Crossed Skis by Carol Carnac

Book Details

Originally published in 1952
Inspector Rivers #8
Preceded by It’s Her Own Funeral
Followed by Murder as a Fine Art

Carol Carnac also wrote E. C. R. Lorac

The Blurb

In Bloomsbury, London, Inspector Brook of Scotland Yard looks down at a dismal scene. The victim of a ruthless murder lies burnt beyond recognition, his possessions and papers destroyed by fire. But there is one strange, yet promising, lead—a lead which suggests the involvement of a skier.

Meanwhile, piercing sunshine beams down on the sparkling snow of the Austrian Alps, where a merry group of holidaymakers are heading towards Lech am Arlberg. Eight men and eight women take to the slopes, but, as the C.I.D. scrambles to crack the perplexing case in Britain, the ski party are soon to become sixteen suspects.

The Verdict

The alpine setting is handled well and adds appeal to a solid but relatively straightforward case.


My Thoughts

It feels rather odd to be reading about snowy holidays with the summer sun beating down on me but I was inspired to push Crossed Skis to the top of the TBR pile after a brief Twitter exchange with another book blogger about Lorac. After sharing that I have found Lorac to be a little inconsistent based on my pretty small sample, I noted that I had been intrigued to read this recent reprint. I was asked to share my thoughts when I did and so I figured I might as well do that sooner rather than later…

The story begins with a group of eight men and eight women departing Britain to travel to Lech in Austria on a skiing holiday. Most of the party do not know each other already but there is a general sense of excitement at a break from the dismal British weather, work and post-war rationing.

As they are on their way, Inspectors Brooks and Rivers are investigating a fire in a boarding house in Bloomsbury and the burnt corpse they find inside. The blaze was devastating, destroying most of the papers and objects within the room and it also rendered the body unidentifiable. The investigators have to identify the body, work out how and why they died and also understand the relevance of the strange impression that has been left outside the window.

The most striking characteristic of the novel is the decision to develop story strands in two separate locations. With the investigation confined to London until near the end of the novel, our pool of suspects are able to interact and enjoy themselves without the knowledge of the crime or the progress that the detectives are making. There are no formal suspect interviews, no structured examinations of movements or alibis. We simply observe how each member of the travel party is acting and, with knowledge of some of the findings in London, draw our own conclusions from that.

It is surprising just how well this approach works. Lorac is able to reveal much of the same information that you might expect to find in a more traditional detective story structure quite organically, often providing us with information without specifically drawing the reader’s attention to it.

On the other hand, the case seemed to have less elements than some of the other Lorac mysteries I have read. That is not to say the solution is simplistic but rather there are less attempts to use misdirection or introduce secondary mysteries to sustain the story. By the end of the novel the reader will be able to solve the mystery using their observations and logical reasoning, even as the Police characters are only learning the critical information for the first time.

I enjoyed both the London and Lech settings and story strands but not equally. While London was the site of the crime, I found I was a little impatient to see those characters make the connections to the traveling party abroad, especially once the basic facts of the case were confirmed. This does not so much reflect any lack of interest in those characters as a preference for the more colorful cast of characters we encounter in that group and for the more unusual Austrian setting.

The traveling party is large but in practice readers will likely consider only a handful of the group as suspects. This is reinforced by the author giving us more time with some characters than others. While I think each of the characters are distinctive, in practice several do feel quite peripheral to the story. The important figures however are colorfully drawn and easily distinguished, each possessing quite distinct personalities.

While the group are generally amicable in their relationships with each other, there are some points of conflict during the trip that do expose their personalities and help us understand them better. In short, I think that the book strikes a good balance between giving us a manageable group of suspects while also reflecting the sense that they are travelling as part of a larger party.

The other aspect of the trip I appreciated was the sense of time and place that Lorac is able to inject into those passages. Some of it are observations about practical details, such as the currency restrictions or arrangements for meals at the hotels, but there are also sections where the characters reflect on the need to behave courteously towards their Austrian hosts and Austria’s desire to open itself back up as a holiday destination after the war. In short, this is a book that feels like a window into the time in which it was written.

While Crossed Skis did not cause me to significantly rethink my feelings about Lorac as a writer, I did find it to be an entertaining read. It boasts a solid, if relatively simple, mystery plot elevated by the unusual story structure and choice of setting.

I imagine that to readers in 1952 the depiction of a continental skiing holiday would likely have felt very exotic and glamorous. Strangely, reading this in lockdown, I cannot help but feel I could understand the appeal of this sort of armchair travel all the more. Certainly I appreciated a chance to be diverted and transported somewhere different – it was just what I needed.

A copy was provided by the publisher for review.

Peril at End House by Agatha Christie

Book Details

Originally published in 1932
Hercule Poirot #7
Preceded by The Mystery of the Blue Train
Followed by Lord Edgeware Dies

The Blurb

On holiday on the Cornish Riviera, Hercule Poirot is alarmed to hear pretty Nick Buckley describe her recent “accidental brushes with death.” First, on a treacherous Cornish hillside, the brakes on her car failed. Then, on a coastal path, a falling boulder missed her by inches. Later, an oil painting fell and almost crushed her in bed.

So when Poirot finds a bullet hole in Nick’s sun hat, he decides that this girl needs his help. Can he find the would-be killer before he hits his target?

The Verdict

One of my favorites. It is cleverly plotted with a memorable setup and some entertaining interactions between Poirot and Hastings.


My Thoughts

I had not planned to be writing about Agatha Christie’s Peril at End House today but this week I have found myself tremendously distracted. Every fifteen or twenty minutes I seem to be checking to see if those test results are in and, as a consequence, I find I cannot really concentrate on anything. Realizing that anything new I read was not going to get a fair hearing, I decided to revisit an old favorite instead.

While I do not typically think of myself as Cornish (my parents both having moved there as adults), I spent my entire childhood living there. As a consequence any time I encounter a book that is set there it tends to stand out and stick in my memory. Peril at End House stands out all the more as the first novel I can remember reading to be set there. That is not to say that I think the setting comes through particularly in the prose – it is really just a series of place names – but at the time that gave it a huge amount of novelty, grabbing my attention for long enough for me to notice the superb plotting.

The story begins with Poirot and Hastings holidaying together in a hotel in Cornwall. They encounter a beautiful young woman, Nick Buckley, who tells them about her frequent narrow escapes from death over the previous few days. During their conversation Nick complains of a wasp flying past her head but Poirot finds a bullet nearby leading him to suspect that she had just survived yet another attempt on her life.

Poirot, although still retired, decides that he will act as Nick’s protector. He meets her friends and, fearing that one of them may be responsible, persuades Nick to invite her cousin Maggie to stay and act as a protector. Unfortunately that act does not prevent a murder from taking place.

One of the things I remember most about the experience of reading this for the first time was my sense of shock at the killer’s identity and their motive. It was a significant enough surprise that I never had any difficulty remembering that solution. I have revisited Peril at End House many times over the years since though and I find that each time I am struck by how very cleverly and carefully it is constructed. This is one of Christie’s purest puzzle plots and I appreciate that it is achieved with some simple but very effective uses of misdirection.

My enjoyment of the story begins with the very organic way in which Poirot is brought into this case. He is not hired or compelled into taking this case but he is a witness and his decision to become involved is a consequence of his feelings of empathy towards Nick and his natural sense of curiosity. In short, I appreciate that this is a case that emerges out of his character and that, as such, it feels like it fits with the more empathic and gallant Poirot that we see at points in The Murder of Roger Ackroyd.

It struck me that this case is the first time we really see Poirot challenged to prevent a murder. This is an idea that Christie returns to in several other Poirot stories, most memorably in my favorite Poirot story The A.B.C. Murders, and I think it suits his character particularly well. This case represents a challenge to him and makes him feel personally involved in its resolution. I think this helps us understand better why he becomes so agitated about any little failures or misjudgments on his own part – here it is less a matter of vanity and more the knowledge that if he fails it could mean death for those he has sworn to protect.

I also really appreciate that this novel brings back Hastings and builds on the sense of friendliness and comradeship we see on display in The Big Four. Here, once again, we get the sense that the two men simply enjoy each others’ company and care about each other. They are, after all, choosing to holiday with each other. There are, of course, plenty of Poirot’s typical little dismissive comments about Hastings’ mental abilities but towards the conclusion we see another little instance of Hastings being valuable to Poirot precisely because he thinks so differently from him and I think he has a much clearer purpose here than in his first few appearances.

Nick is an intriguing character and it is easy to understand why Poirot and Hastings are drawn to want to protect her. She epitomizes that sense of carefree living in the moment that was in vogue at the moment. This carries through into some of the details we learn about her life and those of the set she associates with and, as a result, the story feels quite youthful and energetic. This is not only entertaining, it also reminds us that Poirot and Hastings are of a different generation and that, quite amusingly, Poirot seems more aware of what is in fashion than his considerably younger friend.

The other characters are perhaps a little less fully sketched but each is easily distinguished and several are quite entertaining. There is just one story strand that I think feels disconnected from the others. I cannot identify the character or characters without spoiling their role in the plot but I will say that I find their appearances to be a little tedious and that I find it hard to take seriously as a killer or killers. They are not in it enough however to really irritate me and I can imagine others may find their appearances more entertaining than I did.

The plotting is, as I suggested above, generally very good with Christie pacing out her little moments of surprise and intrigue well. Things build to a close with a rather wonderful set piece sequence that stands out for me as being one of the great Hastings moments and sets up a powerful sequence in which Poirot identifies the killer. Unfortunately a choice made in the ending seems to undermine it a little, not feeling entirely earned, but on the whole I think the story is wrapped up very tidily.

While The Murder of Roger Ackroyd is a greater work with a more intricately worked plot and narrative trickery, I find Peril at End House to be the more entertaining read. The situation is clever and I really enjoy the interactions between Poirot and Hastings throughout the book. I am happy to find, each time I revisit it, that it stands up to repeated reads and I am sure that I will find myself reading it again before I reach Curtain in my read-through.

Columbo: The Most Crucial Game (TV)

Episode Details

First broadcast November 5, 1972

Season Two, Episode Three
Preceded by The Greenhouse Jungle
Followed by Dagger of the Mind

Written by John T. Dugan
Directed by Jeremy Kagan

Key Guest Cast

Our victim is played by Dean Stockwell who had been a child star in the late 40s. At the time he may have been best known to crime fans for his performance as Judd Steiner (based on Leopold) in Compulsion. He went on to have a long career and modern viewers may remember him best from Quantum Leap or the revival of Battlestar Galactica.

Valerie Harper makes a small but memorable appearance here and would have been familiar to viewers as Rhoda in The Mary Tyler Moore Show.

The Verdict

Often very entertaining, sadly issues with the plotting meant I found it disappointing as a mystery.


My Thoughts

It is game day for the Los Angeles Rockets football team and general manager Paul Hanlon appears in a feisty mood. Shortly before the game he calls the coach, chewing him out, and then he calls the team’s playboy owner to remind him that they will be flying to Canada that night to meet with the owners of a hockey franchise he thinks they should acquire.

As the game kicks off, Hanlon dismisses the attendant in his box and dons a disguise, heading out to commit murder. His plan is to make it appear he was in the stadium the whole time, using a radio to keep track of developments in the game. Hanlon stages the murder to appear to be an accidental drowning but unfortunately Columbo is assigned to the case and he is soon on the killer’s trail.

Today’s episode is a bit of a landmark for the series as it was the first episode to feature an actor reappearing on the show to play a killer for a second time. This was one of the aspects of the series that always puzzled me before I started to watch – why did the show reuse killers when there was such a wealth of acting talent to choose from? Was it a level of comfort with the actor or an issue of availability? How I wish that there were DVD extras with these to explain how those decisions were made…

Robert Culp makes his return having previously been the murderer in Death Lends A Hand – a story that I felt fell somewhere in the middle of the pack. Would I like his second outing more?

Well, that’s actually quite hard to answer. Let’s start with Culp’s own performance. While Brimmer was quite aloof, Hanlon is fiery and combative. That worked well here, leading to several memorable exchanges with Columbo as his frustrations grow and some “tells” start to show in his behavior.

Culp sports a rather bushy moustache that makes him look almost comical at points, particularly during a sequence in which he dons a disguise. Fortunately Culp plays the whole thing straight, managing to retain his dignity while looking pretty silly and obviously is highly competent, making him a pretty interesting adversary for Columbo. In short, while I may not understand the practice of bringing back killers on principle, this particular piece of casting is really good and Culp delivers an even better performance this second time around.

I think the actual mechanism used to commit the murder is really clever (and so I have no wish to spoil it). It is about as tidy a method as it is possible to imagine and the plan is really impressively worked, being shot to appear quick and brutal. Sometimes with these stories you wonder if a person could really be killed so easily – here it makes perfect sense.

Columbo will be presented with a crime scene that is pretty much perfect. To all appearances this was an accidental death and there is very little evidence to disagree with that reading.

Being Columbo however he does find something – a patch of regular water – but honestly, I just don’t buy that being enough to have him thinking murder. For starters I don’t think that puddle should still be there by the time Columbo arrives in the type of weather we see but even if it is, this is a really weak thing to hook the case on.

Though I think that Columbo’s reasons for suspecting murder are weak, the investigation itself is very enjoyable. The central problem of the episode is the idea that Hanlon has an unbreakable alibi. As an example of that type of problem, the story largely delivers. While Hanlon’s plan is very cleverly worked, there are a couple of things that give Columbo enough room to imagine how he could have done it.

The problem though is that at no point are we ever asked why Hanlon commits this murder. Now I will be the first to say that the viewer doesn’t always need to know every aspect of a case for it to be satisfying. In fact I think it can sometimes be interesting for the viewer to infer a motive but here that is rather messy. There are a number of possible explanations but none fully convince.

Is it because the owner doesn’t care about the fate of the sports empire? Well, why would he want to run the risk that a new owner might dismiss him? Was he in danger of being exposed for manipulating the owner? Possibly, but it seems clear that the person keenest to do that has little standing with the family any more. Is he in love with Wagner’s wife and killing him in the hopes of winning her? Maybe, but she doesn’t seem particularly interested in him.

I don’t know if this is a case of a motive having been written and then cut for time (or some other reason) or if there was never any motive specified at all but I found its absence really distracting. Columbo is almost always looking for the motive first as his hook into a character – just think back to Étude in Black for a good example of this where he is floundering until he gets that information. It bothers me that when he makes his accusation he doesn’t even make a suggestion as to why he killed Wagner.

Without having a motive, Columbo’s treatment of Hanlon – a man who seems to have a cast iron alibi – starts to feel like unwarranted harassment. He has absolutely no reason to focus in on him at the point at which he does and, make no mistake, Columbo is clearly looking at him as a suspect from the moment he arrives at the stadium. We typically give him some latitude for this because we know he will be right and because of the type of person he is interested in but Hanlon appears and acts for most of the story as someone acting in the interests of Wagner’s widow.

This was not the only aspect of Columbo’s behavior I found questionable. I was also baffled by the choice to have him appear utterly distracted at the crime scene, listening to the game rather than looking at the body. I get that this helps establish him as a fan but it also makes his inattention feel more a genuine part of his character than an affectation, designed to throw the killer off. I don’t know that I love that interpretation of the character.

Still, Falk’s performance throughout the episode as a whole is really quite wonderful. Take for instance the wonderful way he fixates on wanting a replacement pair of shoes for instance which he apparently ad-libbed when he first meets Walter Cannell. It’s a really funny moment that speaks to his character and methods while it also really disconcerts the person he is talking with.

I also have to really praise the look of the episode. Jeremy Kagan’s direction is striking. It’s not particularly flashy but it tells the story very effectively, giving a strong sense of movement which suits this story well. It is not just the big moments but the little ones, using sound as effectively as the visuals – an example of that would be the child’s voice calling after the ice cream truck Hanlon is driving when he doesn’t stop in the neighborhood.

These aspects of the production, along with Culp’s performance, make it an often very entertaining episode to watch. The interactions between Falk and Culp are quite intense and I think the professional sports setting is used well. There are a lot of elements here that could well have led to this story being a classic.

Unfortunately what holds it back are some basic problems with the setup. Columbo’s decision to think Hanlon a murderer feels incredibly arbitrary, without a foundation of any clear (or even suggestive) evidence. Knowledge that Hanlon is guilty may allow viewers to overlook Columbo’s behavior here but I never really felt comfortable with it and it soured the episode for me as a result.

Lying in Wait by Liz Nugent

Book Details

Originally published 2016

The Blurb

My husband did not mean to kill Annie Doyle, but the lying tramp deserved it.

On the surface, Lydia Fitzsimons has the perfect life: married to a respected judge, mother of a beloved son, living in the beautiful house where she was raised. That beautiful house, however, holds a secret. And when Lydia’s son, Laurence, discovers its secret, wheels are set in motion that lead to an increasingly claustrophobic and devastatingly dark climax.

The Verdict

A very solid example of a whydunnit with several interesting and sympathetic characters. Its greatest strength is in its conclusion which made for compelling reading.


My Thoughts

Lying in Wait was an impulse purchase based on nothing more than its first line, helpfully quoted at the start of the blurb. Clearly this would be an inverted crime story and, as we all know, those are my sort of thing…

The story concerns the death of a young woman at the hands of Andrew, a judge. The novel opens in the immediate aftermath of the murder and so we witness how Andrew and his wife respond to the incident but it is some time before we learn exactly how and why it happened. Those initial chapters focus heavily on the cover-up and exploring the ways that murder alters the relationships within the Fitzsimmons and Doyle families. It is only once we delve deeper into characters’ histories that we get a clearer sense of how and why this crime took place.

Liz Nugent tells her story from the perspectives of three different characters involved in this tragic set of events. The first is Lydia, the woman who identifies her husband as the murderer in that first sentence and who witnessed that murder. The second is Karen, the sister of the dead girl. She provides us with the backstory of the victim’s earlier life but later in the novel she falls into an investigative sort of role, trying to find out what happened to Annie. Finally we have Laurence, Lydia’s only son who begins the story as a rather sullen teenager.

Nugent alternates between the various perspectives, often ending a chapter at one point in time, then jumping back a little way to show you the same events (or part of them) from a different perspective. I found this to be an effective technique as it clearly distinguishes what one set of characters know from another, allowing for some moments of dramatic irony as we are aware of information that is unknown to the narrating character and can predict future areas of conflict or problems that may arise for the characters.

The novel is also split into several time periods with the first part of the book set in 1980, the bulk in 1985 while the final few chapters take place in 2016. I think that this allows us to see how this murder has a powerful and lasting impact on the fates of everyone involved. This is most pronounced in the case of the victim’s family but Laurence is a particularly interesting figure as he only has a partial knowledge of what happened for a substantial part of the novel.

I was impressed with Nugent’s implementation of the multiple narrators technique. Each of the three characters have distinct and identifiable personalities and narrative voices. This is particularly clear in the judgments they make of each other and while Karen and Lydia only have limited interactions for much of the story, it is interesting to read how they respond to each other and the judgments they make when they do.

I also respect the depth of characterization that is present, not only in these three characters but also in the others that flesh out their different worlds. I had little difficulty imagining them, particularly the more colorful characters like Laurence’s first girlfriend, Helen and I enjoyed moments where we got to read a different character’s interpretation of that same person. Several of these characters seem to change over the course of the novel, often in response to the murder plot itself, which only makes the time jump more effective.

While I enjoyed each of the three narrative voices, I have a clear favorite: I think the character of Laurence is the most interesting, in part because we have an advantage on him in knowing what he does not. Over the course of the book we not only see Laurence struggle to get out from under the control of his domineering mother but also coming to the realization that his father may have been involved in Annie Doyle’s murder. His responses are interesting, often borne out of a desire to protect his family, and I could understand his decision making, even when some of those choices seemed certain to harm him.

Lydia however is arguably a more familiar and perhaps less nuanced character, although I think she does have an interesting personal history that gets pulled out in later chapters of the novel. Those chapters are well written and contain some of the novel’s most exciting moments, particularly in the last third of the novel, but they also hit some of the more familiar notes and themes, especially in relation to her feelings about her son. Still, those ideas are done well and feel appropriate to the overall development of the story.

In terms of the overall plot, I should probably emphasize that this is more of a crime story than a detective story. While several characters do conduct an investigation that is important to the novel’s plot and the reader can work out how it is likely to end, there are not really many opportunities to play armchair detective. This is much more interested in those character relationships and in figuring out how the central tensions between the three narrators will work out.

It is this aspect of Nugent’s novel that I find most worthy of attention. The story is structured brilliantly and the author brings the different strands together well in the end to deliver a powerful conclusion. I was not really shocked by any aspect of that ending – Nugent establishes the key points very clearly – but there is something quite electrifying in seeing how those ideas come together and witnessing the fallout at the end of the novel.

While there are a few surprising moments, I would suggest that what this novel does best is solidly executing its key dramatic beats to enable the story to change direction, often altering key power dynamics between the characters. I was keen to see how those tensions would resolve and while I felt pretty sure I knew how the book might end, I felt the execution of that ending was quite excellent.

Lying in Wait was my first experience of Liz Nugent’s work but I have to say that I was impressed and plan to investigate more of her stories – I would gladly take any recommendations if people have them. I found her writing style to be engaging and enjoyed the attention she gave to putting her characters in interesting situations and resolving those areas of conflict. It is, in my opinion, a very solid example of a whydunnit and while those answers come fairly early in the text, Nugent does a fine job of exploring the impact of those revelations throughout the rest of the novel.