Category: Dean Street Press

The Case of the Painted Ladies by Brian Flynn

June 20, 2022

Originally published in 1940
Anthony Bathurst #25
Preceded by The Case of the Faithful Heart
Followed by They Never Came Back

Three remarkable things happen to Aubrey Coventry in one day. First, he is contacted by Wall Street financier Silas Montgomery with a lucrative business proposition – although Montgomery insists on meeting him at two a.m. the following day. Second, at a village garden party, a fortune teller cannot read his future, as he does not have one. And thirdly, a shabbily-dressed man reacts with a vicious snarl when simply asked for a light.

The fortune teller is proven correct when Coventry is found dead in his office the next morning. Private Detective Anthony Bathurst finds himself on the trail of the snarling man, reported to have been following Coventry in the night. To unmask the culprit, however, Bathurst is going to need help from some very special friends…

The last time I read and wrote about one of Brian Flynn’s Anthony Bathurst novels, the sublime Such Bright Disguises, I ended up nominating it for Reprint of the Year. Little wonder then that I have been keen to return to the series but one of the challenges has been trying to figure out what I wanted to read next. With so many already reprinted and with more on the way, we are somewhat spoiled for choice.

Rather than defer to someone else’s judgment, I decided that I would eschew from reading reviews or soliciting recommendations. Instead I would base my choice purely on cover and blurb appeal, ultimately selecting this novel for the rather intriguing set of strange happenings described.

The novel opens by describing how in the course of a single day Aubrey Coventry ends up experiencing several strange events. The first is a telephone call from a leading Wall Street financier seeking a meeting alone in Aubrey’s home in the early hours of the morning. The second, a chilling session with a fortune teller who tells him that he has no future to read. The final, an odd interaction with a shabbily-dressed man in the park who snarls and backs away when Aubrey speaks to him.

The next day Coventry is discovered dead in his office having been murdered in the early hours of the morning after apparently meeting with that financier. No papers seem to have been stolen, nor any valuables as those were kept at his bank.

I quite enjoyed the rather unusual setup that Flynn creates for this story. Rather than trying to establish the victim as someone people would naturally want to kill, the murder of Aubrey seems every bit as odd as the things he had experienced the day before. It appears to be a motiveless crime and so the only leads open for our hero are following up on those strange events to see if any, or all, may be connected with the death.

The results are really quite intriguing and often the information we learn only makes the events seem stranger. Take, for instance, what we learn about the phone call that Aubrey receives to arrange the meeting which begs a further series of questions. Similarly Flynn plays beautifully with the idea of the psychic, creating a strong atmosphere both during Aubrey’s interview and subsequently in Bathurst’s questioning of them. The reader may well wonder quite how they could know as much as they do and wonder if they may possibly have some powers after all.

The plot that Flynn develops arguably reads more like a thriller than a typical detective story, though there are many opportunities for the reader to use their deductive skills to get ahead of the narrative. I suspect it would be hard though for anyone to predict quite where this story is ultimately headed until they are quite some way into the novel. That journey is, of course, a large part of the fun.

While some of the moments of deduction feel smart and creative, there are a few points I felt that Bathurst is made to seem brilliant by making MacMorran, in contrast, appear quite unobservant. One of the strongest examples of this for me was a visual clue, given to the reader, in the reproduction of the text from a torn note. Bathurst’s reasoning in that scene is perfectly fine but MacMorran’s fawning over his brilliance, rather than building up the character’s achievement seems to serve to make it feel like our hero is very late to tell us something we have likely already figured out for ourselves.

I liked a lot of what happens in this story though I think there are some points where Flynn’s language is distractingly odd. One akward sentence that stood out particularly to me was when Bathurst makes a comment about a blind person needing to utilize their other ‘sense assets’ to compensate for their lack of sight. Still, for the most part it works quite nicely.

Perhaps the aspect of the story I appreciate most though is its willingness to break conventions and expectations. I particularly enjoyed the way the story references some other great fictional detectives, even having some appear directly in the book’s wonderfully inventive, if utterly far-fetched, denouement.

The Verdict: This is, ultimately, primarily a fun read and I am glad I gave it a try. While it lacks the inventiveness of some of Flynn’s other plots I have read and reviewed here, there is plenty to entertain. Still, for those new to the author I might suggest checking out one of his other novels instead.

Second Opinions

Puzzle Doctor @ In Search of the Classic Mystery is the authority on Brian Flynn and, of course, they pen the introductions found in the Dean Street Press reprints. They describe this one as a ‘fine outing for Bathurst, loads of fun’ and explain why one aspect of this book’s denouement is very unusual if not unique.

TomCat @ Beneath the Stains of Time suggests that while some aspects of the plot don’t stand up to more detailed scrutiny, it is another example of ‘Flynn’s mission to simply write good, imaginative and above all entertaining detective fiction’.

Such Bright Disguises by Brian Flynn

October 14, 2021

Originally published in 1941
Anthony Bathurst #27
Preceded by They Never Came Back
Followed by Glittering Prizes

Hubert Grant is a fairly unpleasant man. He also thinks he is happily married.

Dorothy Grant despises her husband but finds consolation in the handsome Laurence Weston. In order for the lovers to be happy, however, the intolerable Hubert needs to be cut out of the picture. Permanently.

Dorothy and Laurence start plotting. But the best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men gang aft a-gley and by the end of the scheming, there will be more than one body. Enter detective extraordinaire Anthony Bathurst…

It was inevitable that Such Bright Disguises would be my next Brian Flynn novel, ever since I read that it was an inverted mystery. As I understand it, this makes the novel something of a rarity in the Flynn oeuvre which is a shame as I think this is a great example of the sub-genre.

Such Bright Disguises is a novel that is comprised of three distinct sections. The first, titled ‘Hubert’, begins in the days running up to Christmas as Dorothy Grant sits at home awaiting the arrival of a luxury hamper filled with treats selected by her husband Hubert for their festivities. Rather than looking forward to some time with her husband, daughter and their friends, Dorothy is dreading it. She wishes instead that she could be sharing the season with her lover Laurence.

After illustrating the building sense of resentment within the Grant household, Flynn provides an incident that will spark the young couple to decide on murder as the solution to their problem. This section concludes shortly after that first murder takes place.

It takes Flynn some time to get to the point where his characters will decide upon murder but these early chapters do set up some important plotting points that we will return to later in the novel. They also do an excellent job of exploring these characters and their relationships with one another.

I was really impressed by the quality of Flynn’s characterizations of Dorothy, Hubert and Laurence. Part of the reason for this is the author’s unusually frank depiction of a crumbling marriage and infidelity, capturing the resentments and desires, particularly those of a married woman, in a way that feels quite surprising. That is not to say that readers are encouraged to sympathize with Dorothy – some of her thoughts about possibly abandoning her daughter in favor of her lover put pay to that – but I do think we are meant to empathize with her feelings of being bullied and stifled by a husband who views her purely as an ornament.

While Flynn does outline the events leading up to the murder, we do not witness the event itself or get much detailed discussion of the investigation at this point in the story. This is not uncommon in inverted stories of this period and I think this reflects that he is more interested in the characters’ mindsets and some elements of the planning than in exploring the violent details of the murder. There is a little ambiguity in a few elements of the plan, some of which will be explained later (very cleverly in the case of one element) though I felt that the novel never sufficiently addressed the involvement of a woman in the events of that night.

The second section, ‘Laurence’, picks up shortly after the murder and explores what becomes of the couple as they attempt to start a life together. As is often the case in inverted mysteries, the act of murder is shown to have create some pretty significant psychological stress for those involved. Flynn does an excellent job of depicting those stresses and the different ways that Laurence and Dorothy respond to them.

In addition to this psychological drama, Flynn also introduces a new element to the story that not only heightens some of those tensions but also provides a more typical mystery question for the reader to consider. While the answer to that question is unlikely to surprise readers in itself, I felt Flynn uses this element of the story cleverly within the context of the novel as a whole.

Further complications come with the delivery of those additional bodies that are promised in the blurb quoted above. While I anticipated these developments, their introduction did provide a bit of a wow moment for me in how sharply the story turns and transforms as it enters its final part.

Anthony Bathurst makes his brief appearance in this section which follows an investigation into all of the events that had preceded it. This section of the book is far shorter than either of the other two parts – according to my eBook copy it starts at the 75% point – and readers should not anticipate a particularly complex investigation. There is not the sort of case where there are a lot of witnesses or suspects for Bathurst to interview and so this phase of the story feels quite compact and, because of the nature of what is discovered, surprisingly punchy.

Flynn presents some fascinating moments and story beats here as plot points are connected and we come to understand exactly what has taken place. The conclusion he reaches did not surprise me as it seemed to be a natural fit to the conditions that preceded it and yet I was still impressed by the neatness of the plotting here and the boldness of the storytelling.

If I have a slight disappointment about the resolution, it is only that I had thought of two possible alternate endings and solutions to the mystery element of the novel that I think might have taken that idea even further. By the time we reach this third part I recognized that one of these was impossible but I felt my other idea would have still fitted all the facts of the case and would have had the benefit of being a little less predictable than the actual solution. Still, while I may mourn what I see as a missed opportunity with regards the ending, I think what we get is really pretty special.

If Frances, Dorothy’s young daughter, were to describe Such Bright Disguises she would no doubt brand it as being ‘simply wizard’. While the pacing is careful and deliberate, the characters are beautifully drawn and the story is cleverly structured, building to a very strong conclusion. While those who are looking primarily for a detective story may want to check out some different Flynn titles first, lovers of inverted mysteries are unlikely to be disappointed.

The Verdict: An excellent inverted mystery featuring interesting characters and a wonderful ending.

The Ninth Enemy by Francis Vivian

September 17, 2021

Originally published in 1948
Inspector Knollis #4
Preceded by The Threefold Cord
Followed by The Laughing Dog

Inspector Knollis of Scotland Yard is hoping for a nice quiet weekend in the country. Instead he is embroiled in a murder case—the death by gunshot of local bigwig Richard Huntingdon.

Jean, the dead man’s wife, discovers the body in dense woods near a river. Knollis soon learns that Jean’s previous husband also met an untimely end, not that she is the only suspect. Despite his reputation for good deeds, Huntingdon had enemies in the district, including the progressive Bishop of Northcote. And it turns out the late Mr. Huntingdon was intimately involved with a grade-A femme fatale…

Knollis, along with the redoubtable Sergeant Ellis, has to deal with a plethora of puzzling clues before solving this bucolic case of Murder most Foul. Key to the mystery is a toy yacht found floating on the river near the body—a craft almost identical to the gift recently received—anonymously—by Huntingdon’s young daughter, Dorrie.

Inspector Knollis is looking forward to enjoying a short break from work when he finds himself brought into a local murder case. The victim, Richard Huntingdon, is a prominent local figure who made a fortune as the founder of an engineering company before getting involved in a variety of civic organizations. His main passion though is to speak to the town’s youth to advocate for a return to chivalric values, frequently appearing in the local paper.

Huntingdon’s body is discovered near the edge of the local dam when his wife Jean hurries there in response to a message she received saying her daughter had met with a terrible accident. Instead of finding her daughter Dorrie, she finds he has been shot and a toy boat resembling her daughter’s floats in the water nearby. Dorrie is soon found to be safe and sound at a friend’s party raising all sorts of questions about the circumstances of Richard’s death.

Among the questions we need to ponder are whether Richard really left a message for Jean about Dorrie and, if so, why was he mistaken? Who killed Richard and why? What happened to Jean’s first husband years earlier? Who anonymously sent Dorrie her toy yacht for her birthday? There is, in short, a lot to dig into.

The Ninth Enemy gets off to an excellent start, quickly setting out its problems and starting to unravel some of the complex background to this case and the individuals involved in it. We learn a lot in those early chapters, particularly concerning some of the interpersonal relationships between the members of the Huntingdon family and their circle of friends which take some time to fully unpick. While some of these are perhaps a little more easily guessed than the author presumably intends, I still found it entertaining to watch Knollis at work as he carefully untangles these and gets to grips with the cast of suspects.

While some characters interested and puzzled me more than others, I appreciated that efforts are made to present a variety of types and several of the characters struck me as offering an interesting ambiguity. This is most clearly the case with our victim who we slowly get to know by hearing how the various characters perceive him. Those portraits are not always sympathetic but they do allow the reader to slowly build up a picture of the complex web of relationships and allow for some intriguing nuances in characterization that make him feel more credible as a creation. That strikes me as impressive in a novel where the victim is dead before we even begin reading.

Similarly I quite enjoyed following Knollis’ efforts as he tries to methodically work through each of his leads and interviews the various suspects. The character, while not particularly dynamic, is a strong example of the thoughtful detective and his behavior is often quite fun, if not altogether funny.

The problems come once the initial rush of activity subsides and we have most of the facts of the case at our disposal. From that point onwards the pacing of the story comes to feel noticeably slow as there are relatively few new clues for our detectives to come across.

My biggest issue with the book however relates to a decision Knollis makes to not look for the murder weapon midway through the investigation that just seems utterly bizarre to me. Several of his colleagues suggest that they ought to seek it out but he argues back that to look for it would be pointless as the accused would almost certainly claim it wasn’t theirs.

The reason I take issue with this is not that I think that Knollis’ claim is necessarily incorrect but that he then goes on to direct his underlings to conduct a search for a different item only tangentially related to the case. A consequence of this choice is that the storytelling, which had previously been quite direct, suddenly seems to noticeably stretch out and slow down.

As for the solution, I will admit that it caught me quite off guard and there were some aspects of it I quite appreciated. The problem is that the killer’s motivations feel a little silly and their plan seems poorly thought out to me. Unfortunately I think the surprise at the killer’s identity is offset for me by the feeling that the reason I failed to guess at it is that their plan is utterly ridiculous.

It’s a shame because I will say that I really had been enjoying the novel up until the midpoint and had been quite excited to see where it was headed. Certainly I liked this well enough to feel interested to try some other Vivian works in the future – if anyone has a suggestion for one that might be more to my liking I’d be happy to give it a try.

The Verdict: The Ninth Enemy sets up interesting situations but resolves them too early. While I was surprised by the ending, my issues with the killer’s motive left me unsatisfied.

Dictator’s Way by E. R. Punshon

July 27, 2021

Originally published in 1938
Bobby Owen #10
Preceded by The Dusky Hour
Followed by Comes a Stranger

Also known as Death of a Tyrant.

When an old acquaintance of Bobby Owen’s from Oxford days turns up out of the blue, he needs help. Bobby little suspects that investigating the sinister enclave of ‘Dictator’s Way’ will quickly set in train a series of momentous events, involving Bobby in a fistfight with an ex-professional boxer, kidnap, peril at sea and international intrigue – not to mention encounters with the mysterious and attractive Olive Farrar in whom Bobby might just have met his match.

It had been a while since I last read something by E. R. Punshon in spite of owning ebook copies of a large quantity of the Bobby Owen mysteries. Perhaps it might have been even longer had I not found myself in need of reading a book written in 1938 and found that my first couple of selections didn’t really grab my attention. This one did however, thanks to the rather intriguing circumstances in which a murdered body is discovered.

Bobby Owen has been contacted by the Honorable Charles Waveny, a man he met playing rugby at University. He is initially quite looking forward to the meeting but soon realizes that he has been looked up in a professional capacity by a man who expects him to do something for him. The favor is that he wants Bobby to pay a visit with him to an unoccupied house near Epping Forest the next evening. The house is quite infamous in the area for hosting high stakes card games, films that had not passed the censors and visits from the owner’s lady friends.

Waveny explains that there is a man who has been bothering a young woman and he wants the attention stopped without damage to her reputation. Bobby is unsympathetic, suggesting that he will refer the matter to the local police, but before he does he decides to make some brief enquiries in the area where he learns a little more about the parties and takes a quick look at the house. When he ventures inside in search of a telephone he discovers bloody finger prints on the telephone receiver and the dead body of an unknown man.

The discovery of an unidentified body in a place that it has no business being is always an appealing hook for a story and I think the odd details and circumstances that precede it, not to mention an entertaining action sequence, only make the crime seem more peculiar and intriguing. I should perhaps say at this point that while this is a detective story, it is written more like an adventure than a puzzle mystery. There is plenty of action, including a fistfight and a dramatic sequence that takes place at sea, giving this a real page-turning quality.

One of the other aspects of the novel that lends it that adventure feel is its political backdrop. Punshon’s story incorporates characters who come from the fictional European state of Etruria which is ruled over by a dictator who is known as The Redeemer. It is not hard to see parallels to some of the real political figures of the era (many of whom are directly name-checked in the novel) and the book does contain some thoughtful discussion about the rise of fascism and why industry and the financial centers of the world often end up accepting those regimes. Similarly Punshon also discusses the fear of revolution and the resentments that build up towards the privileged classes.

In addition to the political commentary, Punshon also laces his novel with plenty of amusing social commentary. One of my favorite passages of the book introduces us to a restaurant and explains exactly why it, and others of its kind, are in vogue with the fashionable types in London. I hadn’t been expecting this sort of comedic material and I felt that it was well observed and, in a few cases, surprisingly applicable even today. While I wouldn’t suggest reading this book for that, it certainly helped enrich the experience for me.

Perhaps the biggest hook for me though was that this is the book that introduces us to a character who will be important in the series from this point forward – Olive. In his excellent introduction to the novel, Curtis Evans notes that this was one of several examples from this year of an established series detective finding themselves with a love interest. While I had somewhat mixed feelings towards my previous Bobby Owen reads (Diabolic Candelabra and It Might Lead Anywhere), Olive was a favorite element in each so it was nice to go back and see how she was initially introduced.

The situation in which he first encounters her, as a suspect in a murder case, is not unique to this novel but the character is not presented as one in distress or in need of rescue. She is tough, principled and acts pretty decisively at points in the story (traits I can see in those subsequent stories I have read, although she has a much smaller role in each). Instead it is Bobby who is the more affected by their meeting, finding himself drawn to her in spite of the possibility that she is seriously mixed up in the whole affair. Punshon presents this situation and their interactions well, avoiding overly sentimental prose and concentrating on the question of how those budding feelings might be influencing the way Bobby pursues this case. This novel reminded me how much I liked this character and if anyone reading this knows of any other Olive-heavy stories, please let me know in the comments below!

While Dictator’s Way may not be a good fit for those seeking a puzzle mystery, I did find it to be a pretty engaging read. The action scenes are described well and help keep things moving, building nicely to an exciting conclusion that tied things up pretty well. It certainly has been my best experience with Punshon to date and leaves me hopeful that I will find more to my taste in the future.

The Verdict: This is more adventure than mystery but it is a highly entertaining and often quite exciting read.

Blue Murder by Harriet Rutland

April 29, 2021

Originally published in 1942

The Hardstaffe family are not the nicest people in the world. In fact, he – schoolteacher, lothario and bully, she – chronic malcontent – and their horsey unmarried adult daughter seem to be prime candidates for murder. A writer planning these deaths, on paper at least, and a young girl, chased by old Hardstaffe, are the only outsiders in a deliciously neat, but nasty, case.

Blue Murder was the last of Harriet Rutland’s mystery novels, first published in 1942. This new edition, the first in over 70 years, features an introduction by crime fiction historian Curtis Evans.

That settles it, thought Smith savagely. He shall be murdered, even if I have to do it myself!

Author Arnold Smith arrives in the village of Nether Naughton in search of inspiration for his latest work, a detective story. He has arranged to take a room in the home of the Hardstaffe family and soon discovers plenty of inspiration within those walls, eventually basing characters within his manuscript on them.

Mr. Hardstaffe, the elderly Headmaster of the school, has a vicious temper and a roving eye that has landed on Miss Charity Fuller, the ‘youngest and prettiest of his staff’. He has apparently pressed his attentions on her for some time but she has rebuffed him with the dangerous statement that she cannot consider him ‘as long as she is alive’. The she is his wife, a hypochondriac who he married purely for her wealth. She has her own reasons for hating her husband who bullies and belittles her.

It is clear from the very start of the book that there are murderous tensions present within the house but one of the most appealing aspects of this novel for me was that the reader will not know which character will be the victim. Rutland is even able to extend this beyond the point at which the murder takes place, at least for a few tension-building pages, as we learn that a murder has taken place and is being investigated but we are not sure exactly who died.

That is one example of a technique Rutland uses throughout the novel of encouraging the reader to expect a development without being clear exactly what that development will be. Take for instance the opening line of chapter thirty-three in which a character ponders with hindsight whether the solution to the murder would have ever been discovered were it not for an event that we are about to read about. This is a variation of the Had I But Known device which plants a seed in the mind of the reader, emphasizing to them that you really want to be paying attention to what will be about to happen. And it works – I was absolutely gripped by the events that followed, knowing that they would be significant but not sure exactly why.

One of the most striking aspects of the novel for me was how much Rutland is willing to give to the reader right from the start. Typically in a detective novel we would expect that we would discover much of the crucial information about the suspects following a murder taking place. Here however we begin the story with a pretty full knowledge of the state of the various relationships between the different characters and the things that they desire that they may want to kill for. In fact within the first few chapters nearly every major character has appeared and expressed some compelling motive for murder.

Which brings us back to the idea that Rutland structures her story really well. She establishes the tensions, creates a situation and then we see what will happen and how those characters will respond. The result is a book that marries elements of the detective story and the crime story very effectively. Our focus is not really on the details of where characters were – almost anyone could have done it – but rather on evaluating the characters psychologically and deciding whether we think they really would have done it. A question that becomes all the more interesting as we see how the characters respond to the questioning and new developments. It also may prompt the reader to wonder what will they do next.

While the plotting may be less of a focus than the characterizations and development of themes it does not mean that it lacks points of interest. There are a number of revelations, both big and small, that may surprise readers and change the direction of the story. I particularly appreciated a moment during the inquest, for example, which I did not see coming and which altered my understanding of what happened, taking the story in an interesting new direction.

Now at this point I should acknowledge that while this book is not inverted, I doubt that the identity of the killer will come as a surprise to many of the readers. Rutland never confirms that person’s role until the final few pages of the novel but I think there are enough structural and thematic clues laid that many readers will anticipate that reveal long before it happens. Often that can be disappointing – a strange feature of the detective story is that while many of us read them to match our wits with the author, few of us want to identify the criminal early. Here however an early identification of the killer is not a fault but a feature because it only increases that sense of tension as we are led to wonder how this story might possibly be resolved.

One of the reasons for this is that Rutland’s story touches on some really dark and realistic subject matter and so a happy ending is far from a certainty. Blue Murder was a novel written during wartime and apparently, according to Curtis Evans’ superb introduction, at a period of personal difficulty for the author. Little surprise then that this book incorporates some really powerful and difficult themes and elements including domestic abuse and the depiction and discussion of antisemitism.

Rutland writes powerfully and effectively on these and many other serious themes, depicting them (and other typically taboo topics for the period such as sexual desire and activity) with a surprising level of frankness for a book published in 1942. This is particularly true of the book’s depiction of antisemitism which we observe in many of the characters. The passages in which Rutland has Leida, a refugee and the target of those comments, responds and explains her experiences are highly effective, communicating the nature of the horror that the character had experienced.

As you might expect from the above, readers should be prepared to not like any of the characters much as people. I think that they are interesting and well-observed but all have significant flaws that render them far from likable. Once again, for me this is a feature rather than a flaw in the novel but if you are a reader who will want someone to root for then this book probably isn’t for you.

As the book nears its conclusion Rutland gives us several moments that I found to be really quite chilling. There are some great ideas here, some of which seem to anticipate the development of the crime novel that would happen throughout the following decade. It leads to a memorable and striking conclusion that, while a little rushed, neatly pulled together many of the themes and ideas that had been developed throughout the book.

Blue Murder will not be for everyone as I can see how some readers might struggle to appreciate its difficult characters and dark worldview. Taken as a book that seems to be a bridge between the detective and crime novel styles, I found it to be masterful and suspect that it will stay with me for quite a while.

The Verdict: Blue Murder is a clever and well-told story that bridges the gap between the detective and the crime novel.

Further Reading

JJ @ The Invisible Event penned an enthusiastic review late last year that I clearly missed (otherwise I would doubtless have got to this much sooner as reading the post makes it clear that this is exactly my type of book). He addresses the acidic wit of the novel which I completely agree with – it is often very well deployed and while I agree not all of it lands as strongly as it might, it is often incredibly sharp and based on clever observation.

Kate @ CrossExaminingCrime suggests that the book has an Ilesian flavor which I think is a fair comparison and shares some interesting observations about its discussions of antisemitism, gender and changing societal values.

Brad @ AhSweetMystery offers up a thoughtful analysis of the book, including reflections on how it compares to Christie’s The Blue Train which was written at a similarly difficult period in an author’s life, and finishes with a sentiment I share that it’s a shame that there was no subsequent novel published.

Death in the Grand Manor by Anne Morice

April 7, 2021

Originally published in 1970
Tessa Crichton #1
Followed by Murder in Married Life

The narrator of this classic mystery is fashionable young actress, Tessa Crichton—obliged to turn private detective when murder strikes in the rural stronghold of Roakes Common. Leading hate-figures in the community are Mr. and Mrs. Cornford – the nouveaux riches of the local Manor House – suspected by some of malicious dog killing.

Tessa however has other things on her mind when she goes to stay with her cousin Toby and his wife Matilda. There’s her blossoming career, for one thing, not to mention coping with her eccentric cousins. Also the favourable impression made by a young man she meets under odd circumstances in the local pub. If it wasn’t for that dead body turning up in a ditch . . .

The murder mystery will lead Tessa to perilous danger, but she solves it herself, witty, blithe and soignée to the last. The story is distinguished by memorable characterisation and a sharp ear for dialogue, adding to the satisfaction of a traditional cunningly-clued detective story.

Death in the Grand Manor introduces readers to the character of Tessa Crichton, an actress though not a hugely successful one. At the start of the novel Tessa has just finished a job and has no other on the horizon though her agent assures her that her prospects are excellent. When her cousin Toby, a playwright, gets in touch to ask if she can stay with him to look after his daughter for a while as his wife Matilda, also an actress, is away on tour, Tessa agrees.

When she arrives in Roakes Common she soon discovers that resentment has built within the community toward the Cornfords, a nouveau riche family who have big plans to redevelop the area if they can persuade their neighbors to sell up. Some resent the pair’s attitude toward the other villagers while others fear that they plan to force them out by destroying the aspects of life in the village that they love. As for young Ellen, Toby’s daughter – she holds them responsible for the death of her dog.

It will come as little surprise to the reader that one of this pair, either Mr. or Mrs Cornford, will be the victim in this story but as that does not happen until over halfway into the novel I will not share any specific details concerning the murder. Instead I will try to keep my comments as general as possible.

What I am happy to say is that Tessa is not directly involved in the murder, nor is she ever suspected of commiting it, but has good reasons to want to see the investigation quickly and successfully concluded. This case will touch quite close to home for her with both Toby and Matilda coming under suspicion, giving her additional reasons to get involved.

Not that Tessa’s investigative style is particularly active. Tessa is neither snoopy nor meddlesome. She does not possess any unusual levels of deductive reasoning or intuition. One striking feature of Morice’s novel is that because the murder itself occurs so late, much of the evidence that Tessa accumulates happens before the crime itself. This is often a strong technique as it gives the reader possible answers before knowing what the question will be, helping to obscure or downplay important information while still fairly presenting it to the reader. Instead of searching for clues then, Tessa’s main activities are to talk out the case with another character and to try and think through the cast of characters to find motives, opportunities and psychological factors supporting the idea that they may be the murderer.

While Tessa may not be as brilliant as some other sleuths in terms of pure deduction (at least on the basis of this first outing), I found her to be a thoroughly likeable character and enjoyed her often wry style of narration which is peppered with observations and witty asides. She reminded me a little of Sayers’ Lord Peter Wimsey in her habit of being quite flippant and also in a pretty charming romance she finds herself involved in.

That romance is worth highlighting as it is one of the book’s strongest subplots. This begins a short while before the murder and runs throughout the whole novel, developing alongside the mystery itself. Morice writes these scenes with a great deal of charm and the same lightly comical touch found elsewhere in the novel. While it’s not deep, the quick and easy attraction reminded me of Lord Peter and Harriet Vane and others may well find themselves with similarly feelings.

Morice is also quite successful in her depictions of the lives and personalities of the other villagers who make up quite a colorful assortment of characters. While we do not spend a huge amount of time in most of their lives, I was impressed by the hooks she created for each character that helped me get a reasonably strong handle on each of them from early on in the novel. Of course I liked Ellen, who from time-to-time behaves in quite a precocious way, but I also felt that Matilda and Toby made particularly strong impressions.

Which brings me, I suppose, back to the solution to the mystery. I have somewhat mixed feelings about it, much of which reflects that the murder is introduced quite late in the novel. As entertaining and enjoyable as this mystery was, the case is not particularly complex. There are not many twists or big revelations, rather we just watch the situation play out. Thankfully even if the case is not particularly mystifying, these moments are handled pretty well and I remained engaged until the end.

Add in the striking photographic cover with its seventies fashion (I am a fan though they seem pretty divisive based on Twitter responses), some 70s dinner party glamor and a solid enough murder scheme and you have an entertaining and engaging read. I certainly intend to keep going with the series and will look forward to seeing where her adventures take her next.

The Verdict: An entertaining story with lively characters and a memorable sleuth. I look forward to reading others in this series.

A digital copy of the book was provided by the publisher for early review.

Murder on the Enriqueta by Molly Thynne

April 2, 2021

Originally published in 1929
Also known as The Strangler

The bibulous Mr Smith was no pillar of virtue. Crossing the Atlantic Ocean on the Enriqueta, he met someone he knew on board at midnight – and was strangled. Chief Inspector Shand of the Yard, a fellow traveller on the luxury liner, takes on the case, ably assisted by his friend Jasper Mellish. At first the only clue is what the steward saw: a bandaged face above a set of green pyjamas. But surely the crime can be connected to Mr Smith’s former – and decidedly shady – compatriots in Buenos Aires?

Molly Thynne was an author who wrote six novels of mystery and detection in the late 1920s and early 1930s all of which were reprinted a few years ago by Dean Street Press. In my first couple of years of blogging I read and wrote about half of her novels. I found each of those stories entertaining though I had a clear favorite, The Crime at the Noah’s Ark. I don’t think I will be getting too far ahead of myself if I say right now that there is no risk of The Murder on the Enriqueta dislodging it from that spot.

The book opens with a murder that takes place on the Enriqueta, a luxury liner making an Atlantic crossing. One of the passengers, a Mr. Smith, is travelling to England from Argentina in the hopes of persuading his sister to support him financially. During the crossing however he has lost almost all of the limited funds he brought with him at the gambling tables and having exhausted the goodwill of his fellow passengers, he proceeds to get thoroughly drunk. Stumbling around he accidentally bursts into a cabin only to find himself face-to-face with someone he knows but that he wasn’t aware was on board. We never find out that person’s name but a short while later Smith’s body is found having been dumped in a corridor by a figure wearing some rather distinctive sleeping attire.

It happens that one of the other passengers aboard the Enriqueta is Chief Inspector Shand of Scotland Yard who was on board in the hopes of catching a criminal but was thwarted when they appear to have booked an earlier crossing. Learning of the murder he offers the captain his services and learns that Smith carried money forged by the man he was looking for but he is unable to find either the killer or their distinctive clothing.

Among the figures Shand interviews is Lady Dalberry who is travelling to England in mourning after the death of her husband, Adrian Culver, who had died in a tragic car accident shortly after ascending to the title of Lord Dalberry and inheriting one of the richest estates in England. She is met at the dock by members of the family including Carol Summers, a young woman who is set to become one of the richest young women in the country on her twenty-first birthday. Dalberry, a newcomer to the country, offers Carol rooms with her which are gratefully accepted but Carol soon becomes suspicious of a foreign man who appears to exert a strange hold over Lady Dalberry…

That rather complicated description of the setup for this novel reflects that the scenario feels somewhat disconnected and disjointed. While there is a murder to investigate that really is only the focus of a couple of chapters at the start of the novel. The remainder of the book is structured and plotted far more like a thriller in the mold of Agatha Christie’s Why Didn’t They Ask Evans? There is a detective at work in the background looking into some criminal matters but our focus is on the danger that a young heiress finds herself in with the dots only being connected at the very end of the novel.

One of my biggest problems with the book is its heroine, Carol Summers, who commits that cardinal sin of being perfectly aware of a source of danger yet apparently discounting it for no good reason whatsoever. Even late in the novel when she gets clear evidence of the danger to herself she opts to remain in a perilous situation in spite of the protestations of her guardians. I found this to be quite ridiculous and felt that it shifted my perception of her from naïve to reckless and foolish, significantly reducing my sympathy for her.

There is little doubt from the moment we first encounter Carol what the villain or villains’ purpose will be. We are frequently reminded that on her twenty-first birthday she will become one of the richest women in England and so the motive is a rather clear one, as is the intended means. The villains are similarly clear from the start and so there are really only two points of mystery in the novel: who killed Mr. Smith and what is the nature of the relationship between Lady Dalberry and Juan de Silva?

As I indicated earlier the questions related to the death of Mr. Smith sit entirely in the background until the end of the case so the focus of the story is almost entirely on the second of these questions. While I don’t love that these two characters’ most distinctive traits are their foreignness, I think Thynne does use them pretty cleverly and manages to sustain that mystery longer than I might have expected knowing its solution. While there are quite a few sensational developments by the end of the novel, I think Thynne had a solid idea and executed it pretty well though I think it would have worked better in a shorter form of fiction.

Thynne’s secondary characters are all fine and pretty well drawn with my favorite being Mr. Mellish, Carol’s legal guardian. He is the sharpest of the various characters concerned in this story and while Carol never follows his advice, he does his best to try and protect her. He even gets a few rare comedic moments related to his unwillingness to dance or exercise. I found myself looking forward to each of his appearances which I feel provide a little relief from the sometimes quite sensational and melodramatic tone of the rest of the story.

Still, as much as I enjoyed Mellish I sadly cannot recommend The Murder on the Enriqueta. I appreciate Thynne’s skill as a writer but the plot of this one held little appeal for me. Instead I would suggest The Crime at the Noah’s Ark or The Case of Sir Adam Braid as better starting points for exploring her work.

The Verdict: This standalone work, focused on sensation rather than detection, relied too heavily on the foolishness of its protagonist for my taste.

Who Killed Dick Whittington? by E. and M. A. Radford

February 18, 2021

Originally published in 1947
Doctor Manson #6
Preceded by It’s Murder to Live!
Followed by John Klyeing Died

Norma de Grey, the Principal in the Christmas pantomime Dick Whittington, was not popular with the rest of the Pavilion Theatre company. But was she hated enough to be killed by prussic acid, during the performance itself?

Suspicion immediately falls on the Cat, her fellow actor in the fatal scene. Until it transpires that the Cat too has been poisoned – and his understudy has a solid alibi. But someone must have donned the disguise and appeared on stage incognito. Detective-Inspector Harry Manson, analytical detective par excellence, is on the case.

Last year I read and reviewed The Heel of Achilles, an inverted mystery written by the Radfords and thoroughly enjoyed it. In fact I even ended up selecting it as one of my nominations for the Reprint of the Year Awards. There was no doubt in my mind then that I’d be back for more. The only question was which book I’d select.

Who Killed Dick Whittington? is set against the backdrop of a British festive institution – the Christmas pantomime – though this is not really a seasonal read. As the title of the novel suggests, the pantomime in question is an adaptation of the story of Dick Whittington in which a boy travels to London to seek his fortune and ends up becoming Mayor of London. The production is doing steady business in spite of lacking a star name, helped by a lack of competition. That is not to say however that there isn’t a difficult lead actor – nobody in the company seems to have anything positive to say of Norma de Grey, the young actress playing the role.

Little surprise then when she ends up dead, though the circumstances are somewhat odd. In the scene before the interval Dick and his cat, played by an actor in a fur suit, lie down for a nap while the fairies perform a ballet. When the time comes for Dick to wake and deliver the final line in the act it never comes. The curtain falls and when the crew investigate they find her unconscious. The first-aid man quickly examines her and tells the gathered crowd that he thinks she is dead.

Examination reveals that Norma was poisoned and that it must have taken place during on stage as the poison, prussic acid, would have worked in seconds. The only person who went near her was the actor playing the Cat – the problem is that both that actor and his understudy have pretty solid alibis…

This book is listed in Adey’s Locked Room Murders (an invaluable reference guide for locked room and impossible crime stories) but I cannot really understand the reason for its inclusion. After all, it seems pretty clear from early in the case exactly how the poison had been administered – the mystery really lies in the who and the reasons why. I’d suggest setting aside any expectations of an impossibility and instead enjoy what is a rather beautifully crafted piece of fair-play forensic detection.

According to Nigel Moss’ excellent introduction, which can be found in the recent Dean Street Press reprint, both Radfords had some prior professional engagement with the theater – Mona had acted and written for the stage while Edwin had been an Arts journalist. The authors clearly drew upon that experience to create a representation of a theatrical company that feels both detailed and credible. Whether it is describing the contents of a dressing room, backstage movements or capturing the professional jealousies within the company, it is easy to be drawn into the theatrical setting presented here.

In addition to this main investigation, the Radfords also provide a secondary investigation that is already underway at the start of the novel. This case, which involves trying to prove whether a series of fires at commercial properties were accidents or arson, is less colorful and lacks the color found in the theatrical setting but it is interesting enough, particularly once we learn how these two cases are connected (though it is perhaps unbelievably fortunate that Manson is assigned to both).

For those unfamiliar with Doctor Manson, he is a scientist in the manner of R. Austin Freeman’s Dr. Thorndyke. Guided entirely by evidence rather than psychology, he is observant, methodical and detailed in the way he approaches picking apart a crime. He is perhaps a shade warmer than Thorndyke, possessing a sense of humor, though he can also be quite fussy and sharp in conversation with colleagues. Crucially for us as readers, he takes the time to explain any relevant piece of science in such a way as to make it approachable and easy to understand, meaning that the reader can expect a fair challenge.

Which is exactly what we get here. In fact we get three of them as, prior to the final challenge to the reader, there are two previous challenges where the authors pose questions about the relevance of some point Doctor Manson has asked. Each of these were quite specific in the information sought and I agree with the authors that in each case the reader ought to be able to guess the relevance of each point, making for a particularly rewarding reading experience for armchair sleuths.

In addition to these logical games, the book contains a significant amount of forensic analysis explained in pretty straightforward, if occasionally somewhat dry, English. The science is easy to follow and I was surprised at how exciting I found a few of the tests that get described. Of particular interest for me was an experiment that involved weighing some ash (I will let you discover the reasons Manson engages in this activity for yourself).

While the forensics are important to the book in terms of discovering evidence, I think that it is important to stress that the solution is found through the application of logic. Each thread is connected at the end with the links between each piece of evidence clearly explained in a newspaper account of a trial.

I was not particularly surprised by the solutions – the Radfords clue the mystery well enough that I felt confident long before the final challenge was issued that I knew who had done the crimes and even why. The greater challenge for me was in figuring out exactly how Dr. Manson would prove his case. At least one aspect of the solution completed eluded me in spite of how incredibly obvious it was which is pretty much all I want from a detective story. I want to be fooled by something that is so simple I really ought to have seen it coming. As I wrote in my Kindle notes (it’s in all caps because I was clearly quite excited):

For the curious, this note is at location 3126 in the Kindle edition. Be sure not to look at it before you read the whole book as this is critically important to a solution.

Which I think speaks to why I ended up enjoying this so much. It is a clever, well clued mystery that plays fair with its readers. Though the writing style can be a little dry and awkward in a few of the technical forensic passages, I found the science fascinating and I loved following along as Manson pieced it all together and trying to beat the challenges. Highly recommended.

The Verdict: An excellent fair-play puzzle mystery, enhanced by its colorful theatrical setting.

Reprint of the Year: My Second Pick

December 19, 2020

Last week I shared my first nomination for this year’s Reprint of the Year award, Mystery on Southampton Water, suggesting that it was a strong example of how reprints can make unaffordable classic crime novels accessible once again. My second nomination is representative of the other reason I think reprints are so important – they can shine a light on otherwise obscure writers or titles.

Dean Street Press are one of a number of publishers who have done splendid work bringing the works of writers of the Golden and Silver ages of crime fiction back onto our bookshelves. Whether you collect the handsome paperbacks or the highly affordable ebook copies, they have brought readers into contact with the works of writers like Moray Dalton, E. R. Punshon, Molly Thynne and yes, Brian Flynn.

The Heel of Achilles was a particularly joyous find for me because it is another example of an inverted mystery novel. The Radfords clearly drew inspiration from the work of R. Austin Freeman both in terms of the structure of the story but also in the manner of their sleuths. Manson, much like Thorndyke, carries a mobile laboratory with him.

The case itself is an interesting one, beginning with the account of what leads Jack, a young mechanic, to commit murder. As is typically in many of these stories, we understand Jack’s motivations and see why he feels trapped, particularly given how he was caught up in events he never wished to be involved in.

I equally enjoyed the remaining two-thirds of the novel in which we follow Manson as he attempts to make sense of the crime scene. Here the reader often has prior knowledge of the explanation of a particularly confusing aspect of the case and enjoys watching to see if the detective is able to piece it together without that knowledge.

What makes this story particularly entertaining to me however is that the Radfords do not make their sleuth infallible. Yes, he gets to the right solution in the end but he makes a number of incorrect, if logically reasoned, guesses along the way. Each of those mistakes is carefully footnoted in a sort of reverse cluefinder section at the end of the novel. It is a really charming feature of the story and one that I wish other writers had emulated.

It all makes for an entertaining and charming read that I am thoroughly glad was made available again for me to enjoy. It is certainly hard to imagine that even as an enthusiast of inverted mysteries I would ever have crossed paths with it without the efforts of Dean Street Press. Knowing that there are other Manson stories awaiting me only adds to my excitement!

For more information on this year’s Reprint of the Year awards check out Kate’s blog, CrossExaminingCrime. The post announcing the award and seeking nominations can be found here.

The Murders Near Mapleton by Brian Flynn

December 16, 2020

Originally published in 1930
Anthony Bathurst #4
Preceded by The Mystery of the Peacock’s Eye
Followed by The Five Red Fingers

Christmas Eve at Vernon House is in full swing. Sir Eustace’s nearest and dearest, and the great and the good of Mapleton, are all there. But the season of comfort and joy doesn’t run true to form. Before the night is out, Sir Eustace has disappeared and his butler, Purvis, lies dead, poisoned, with a threatening message in his pocket. Or is it her pocket?

That same evening, Police Commissioner Sir Austin Kemble and investigator Anthony Bathurst are out for a drive. They come across an abandoned car at a railway crossing, and find a body – Sir Eustace Vernon, plus two extraordinary additions. One, a bullet hole in the back of his head. Two, a red bon-bon in his pocket with a threatening message attached.

I really enjoyed my first taste of Brian Flynn’s work when I read and reviewed Tread Softly earlier this year and ever since then I have been keen to get back to him. When I remembered that he had written a mystery that begins at a Christmas Eve dinner party I thought that it might be a good candidate for my festive reads series and decided I would give it a try.

Sir Eustace Vernon hosts a gathering at his home which is attended by his friends and neighbors. After giving a short speech he opens a red bonbon, which the excellent introduction to the reprint explains is another term for cracker, and reads the message inside. Moments later he hurriedly excuses himself from the party, explaining that he has received ‘some very bad news’. The event continues for some time but eventually his absence is noticed. A note is found suggesting that Sir Eustace intends to take what some may consider ‘the coward’s way out’ prompting a search. Instead of Sir Eustace however they find the butler dead with a red bonbon in their pocket containing a threat that they have just one hour to live and will pay their debt that very night.

Coincidentally Sir Austin Kemble, the Police Commissioner, and Anthony Bathurst are in the vicinity when they notice an abandoned car near a railroad crossing. Stopping to investigate, they notice Sir Eustace’s body on the tracks. While the first thought is suicide, the discovery of an identicle threatening note in the bonbon in his pocket leads Bathurst to suspect murder – an idea borne out when the investigation reveals he was shot in the back of the head.

The opening chapters of the book are excellent with Flynn doing an excellent job of introducing the reader to the characters and establishing the chain of events leading to the disappearance, often in quite some detail. One example would be the careful descriptions of who was sat in which spots around the dinner table and how they were positioned in relation to the each. On occasions information that will be relevant later is almost buried in description or conversation, making it feel all the more satisfying whenever the reader does catch an important point.

Let’s dispense with the weakest part of the novel first: the murder of the butler. This is not weak because the concepts are poor but simply because there is so little time given to this story thread. In short, we are never given enough time with the character to feel truly invested in them and so their story can feel like a bit of an afterthought, particularly given the way it is suddenly resurrected in the final chapters and explained away.

In contrast, the main storyline feels rather more compelling. I think that this is partly because we get to know Sir Eustace before his vanishing and the subsequent discovery of his body, building the reader’s attachment, but it is also that the knowledge that he has a niece humanizes him, as does the story of his bravery in saving children from a huge fire. It helps too that the situation around the disappearance and murder raises so many interesting questions about the victim and the circumstances of his murder.

Bathurst once again makes for a fun and engaging investigator in the Great Detective style. He focuses in on small details of the crime scene and declares at several points that a piece of evidence or information is vital to the understanding of what happened. There are a few occasions where those declarations feel a little hasty, yet given they are there for the reader’s benefit it didn’t trouble me too much.

While I think the ultimate explanation of the crime is clever, if a little sensational, there is an aspect of the solution that I felt was insufficiently clued. I could guess at the idea based on other aspects of the scenario but it seemed that there were few if any positive clues for the reader or Bathurst to reach that conclusion. To be clear, I still appreciated and was entertained by the solution but some may feel that Bathurst doesn’t quite have enough evidence to back up every point in the case he will make.

Overall however I found The Murders at Mapleton to be a very enjoyable read and one that delivered exactly what I hoped for – a puzzling scenario with some unique points of interest. It makes solid use of its seasonal elements yet it can be easily appreciated at any time of year. In short, another positive experience with Flynn’s work that leaves me excited to delve more deeply in the new year.

The Verdict: An enjoyable puzzler which offers up a number of interesting questions for the reader to solve.