Classic Mysteries

"The Mystery of the Skeleton Key"

A question troubles me about one of the staples of so many Golden Age mysteries - those often-deadly weekend parties at isolated country houses. Those of us reading these stories now may find ourselves cringing as yet another guest - or servant or villager - falls victim to the many dangers to life and limb that were so apparent to readers of these books. Take the case of a shooting that spoiled a gathering at a country house in Hampshire. Quite clearly, it was no accident. It appeared that the killer had simply picked up the loaded gun left behind accidentally by a member of the party and had quite deliberately shot the victim. And it was certainly fortunate that Sergeant Ridgway, a clever and rather well-known police detective, happened to be on hand, having just finished up another case in the neighborhood.  But as Sergeant Ridgway began following some fairly obvious clues, that investigation began to take unexpected twists and turns. Ultimately, it was probably also fortunate that the mysterious Baron LeSage – who, despite his French title was surely impeccably English – decided to take a hand in the case. Details may be found in The Mystery of the Skeleton Key, a mystery by Bernard Capes first published in 1919, and, we are told, the first detective novel ever published by the English publisher Collins. It's the subject of today's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you can listen to the entire review by clicking here.

According to an introduction by Hugh Lamb to a new edition of The Mystery of the Skeleton Key,  Bernard Capes had already written some 40 books by the time he wrote The Mystery of the Skeleton Key in 1918. But this first mystery would also be Capes's last book, for he died in the great influenza epidemic that afflicted much of Europe in that same year. Collins quickly moved to publish the book with an introduction written by G. K. Chesterton. Collins also re-published the book several times, and later it was among the first titles published under the brand-new Collins Detective Story Club imprint.

When the murder occurs in The Mystery of the Skeleton Key, the character known as Baron LeSage turns out to be something of an amateur detective even as he manages to be a fine figure of mystery. All we really know about him is that he is very skilled at gathering information from the people with whom he is speaking, while, at the same time, managing to share very little information about himself. He is an avid chess player, and quite a good one at that, and he seems to have fairly strong opinions about the shooting – opinions which, of course, he tends to keep to himself until he is able to bring the case to a satisfactory solution. We do know, however, that he appears to believe that Sergeant Ridgway is on the wrong trail, and that the key to unlocking the mystery must lie farther away than Hampshire. And while Ridgway sets up (and delivers) evidence that leads to some pretty powerful courtroom scenes for both the inquest and a trial, perhaps the greatest surprises in store for the reader will be supplied by the baron.

I have to say, in all honesty, that The Mystery of the Skeleton Key left me somewhat disappointed. While there are a fair number of entertaining twists – and, in fact, the ultimate resolution of the mystery will probably come as a shock to most readers – I found it fairly slow-moving overall. Some clues are revealed, but the reader is rarely given any context for some of the scenes we are witnessing until we reach a final confrontation. I suspect, however, that I’m being somewhat unfair to the author. I know other reviewers have liked this book better than I did: Mystery Files reprints a review from 1920 by a Captain Frank Cunningham in BLACK MASK magazine; Kate Jackson offers a more balanced review at her blog, Cross Examining Crimes; and a thoughtful review at Goodreads is generally positive as well. The book has been re-released by HarperCollins among its new hardcover editions published under the Collins Crime Club brand along with Hugh Lamb's introduction, the G. K. Chesterton introduction as well, and - of course - reproductions of the original rather lurid dust jackets.

From the Vault: "She Shall Have Murder"

Looking back at popular mystery series that were being read in the mid-twentieth century, it's worth noting that there seem to have been a fair number of them involving husband-and-wife amateur detective teams. For the most part, these novels were American, often set in New York. But there were a couple of series involving married couples set in the U.K. Even Agatha Christie got into the act with Tommy and Tuppence Beresford. But one forgotten writer of pleasantly lightweight (for the most part) comedy-mysteries is, I think, due for revival by some keen-eyed publisher, and that writer is Delano Ames. His series, set in London, featured the husband-and-wife team of Jane and Dagobert Brown. Here's my review of one of the early entries in that series, She Shall Have Murder. As usual, it's been slightly edited.

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Life must have been pretty dull for a young woman doing office work in a lawyer’s office in London back in 1948. That might explain why Jane Hamish decided to try her hand at writing a book. Her boyfriend, Dagobert Brown – unemployed – liked the idea and encouraged her to start writing a thriller. They both got an unexpected thrill, though, when one of the law firm’s clients turned up murdered. It happens in She Shall Have Murder, by Delano Ames.

The author has been mostly forgotten, but his books about Dagobert and Jane Brown were extremely popular. The couple made their first appearance in 1948 in She Shall Have Murder, which takes place before Dagobert and Jane were married.

Jane works in the office of a London law firm. As with most law firms, it has its share of difficult clients. One of those clients, a Mrs. Robjohn, who believes that she is being spied upon and followed, is found dead one morning, the apparent victim of an accident involving a gas line. The police – and almost everyone else – are satisfied with the verdict of accidental death.

Jane’s boyfriend, Dagobert, however, is suspicious. And he is soon able to prove – to his and Jane’s satisfaction, at least – that the old woman must have been murdered. We are never told exactly why the evidence did not make the police suspicious, but this IS a mystery novel, after all, and the fictional detectives have to be given some leeway.

At any rate, Jane and Dagobert set out to investigate further. I should mention that Dagobert is unemployed – which, at this point in his life, appears to be a chronic condition – and he is quite happy to have the amateur detective work to fill up his time.

There are a fair number of possible suspects, most of them connected in one way or another with the law firm. There is the senior partner, Mr. Playfair, who is given to the occasional cryptic warning about people who fail to mind their own business. There is the junior partner, Major James Stewart – and, since this was 1948, and the American actor of the same name was tremendously popular, Major Stewart is generally called “Jimmy Stewart.” There are the other young women who work in the office. There is a blackmailing office boy with virtually no redeeming qualities. There is a concert pianist who turns out to have had an affair with the murdered woman.

If I haven’t made it clear by now, this is a very light comedy-mystery. In its use of a detective couple, Jane and Dagobert undoubtedly will awaken memories of some of the American detective couples so popular at the time – couples such as Nick and Nora Charles, Pam and Jerry North and Jeff and Haila Troy. But there were few such couples working together in Britain – one obvious exception being Agatha Christie’s Tommy and Tuppence Beresford.

In any case, Jane and Dagobert continue with their independent investigation – for, as I said, the police don’t think that there was a murder. There was, of course, and there will be a second one before Dagobert comes up with the solution.

And despite the light comic touches, this is still a fairly well put-together mystery. The characters, I think, are less than fully developed or fully believable; no lawyer could ever be as easily distracted as Mr. Playfair seems to be, for example, and still keep his clients satisfied. We really aren’t given all the clues that Dagobert and Jane see in time to make a fair guess at what happened before the final explanation; perhaps that’s due in part to the need for one narrator – Jane – who doesn’t always know exactly what her partner is up to.

But, to at least some degree, I’m quibbling here. Jane and Dagobert are on their way to marriage at the end of this book – and the existence of some 20 books about their experiments in detection suggest that they go on to live – if not happily ever after, at least with boredom-free lives.

[Updated information: a small publisher called Minor Manor Press appears to have republished at least a couple of Ames's books, and there are still copies available of several Ames books published by the sadly defunct Rue Morgue Press. Your favorite mystery bookdealer should be able to find a copy of She Shall Have Murder for you.

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If you would like to listen to the original review, please click here.

Next week: The Mysterious Mr. Quin, by Agatha Christie.

"The Noose"

Colonel Anthony Gethryn has been called home to London by his wife, who wants her husband to investigate the case of Daniel Bronson, accused and sentenced to hang for the murder of an unpleasant man named Blackatter by shooting him in the back of the head. There are signs that Blackatter was a blackmailer. But those who know Bronson best – including Bronson’s wife – insist that while Bronson might have been capable of killing someone, especially a blackmailer, he would never do so in that manner, shooting his victim at close range from behind. But Bronson's date with the executioner's noose is just five days away. Can Colonel Gethryn find the evidence that will save Bronson's life? That harrowing race against time is laid out for us in The Noose, a 1930 mystery thriller by Philip Macdonald. It's the subject of today's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you can listen to the entire review by clicking here.

 Colonel Gethryn was positive about one thing: the man convicted of murder and now awaiting execution was actually innocent. No matter what the court had decided. No matter what the witnesses against him had testified. Gethryn was convinced that Daniel Bronson was innocent – more, that he was the victim of an elaborate frame-up. All Gethryn had to do was discover who might have wanted both the original victim and Daniel Bronson dead, what motive there might have been for the planned double murder, how the plot was hatched and how it was carried out – and, of course, the who and why of it. And Gethryn had just five days to do all that if he was to save Bronson from being hanged for murder. Gethryn had been called in to help on Thursday. The execution was planned for the following Tuesday. The real enemy was time. Was there any possibility of success?

A good basis for an exciting thriller, to be sure. Philip Macdonald was quite popular during the first half of the twentieth century, and most of his books date back to the Golden Age. The Noose is really a thriller, not a puzzle-oriented mystery. as the time dwindles down in the race to save Bronson from the hangman's noose, the tension builds quite powerfully. There are a couple of memorable scenes with the condemned man in his cell which very skillfully add to the book’s emotional impact on the reader. It's a powerful, well-written book. Long out of print, The Noose has been reprinted as another hardback Detective Club entry from the Collins Crime Club, complete with handsome (if rather lurid) dust jackets. I think you'd enjoy it.

[Editor's note: this is being published on Saturday, rather than next Monday, because I won't be available to do the publishing on Monday. We should be back to normal by next week. LB]

Extra: "Mr. Campion's Abdication"

As my blog features one of Margery Allingham's classic Albert Campion mysteries this week, it's worth pointing out that Mr. Campion's stories are still being written - most recently by Mike Ripley. As there's a new one coming out from Severn House next month, I thought my readers might enjoy learning more about the new book starring a detective favorite.

Metropolitan Police Commander Charlie Luke was getting instructions (remotely) from Buckingham Palace about his old friend, Albert Campion. Luke was getting them by discreet word of mouth from Lord Breeze, Campion's neighbor and also a member of the House of Lords - and the message was quite clear:

'Is there a point to all this?' Luke snapped more sharply than he had intended.

'Of course there is. Nobody can possibly believe that Campion is down there for anything other than the Abdication Treasure [...] now you're needed to lean on Campion and make him stop looking.'

'But you're not sure he is, are you?'

'He must be. You said yourself that treasure hunting was right up Campion's street.'

'And you said the treasure doesn't exist.'

'It doesn't,' Lord Breeze said firmly, 'and I have been instructed to tell you to tell Campion that unless he wants to risk embarrassing the Palace he'd better lay off. There's no such thing as the Abdication Treasure, so there's nothing to find and Campion had better make sure he doesn't find it!'

And so we find ourselves once again in a new adventure for Albert Campion, that marvelous character created during the Golden Age of Detection by Margery Allingham, and - these days - returning in new stories written by Mike Ripley, with the blessing of the Margery Allingham Society. The latest of Ripley's books, to be released by Severn House publishers at the beginning of November, is called Mr. Campion's Abdication. This time, there may - or may not - be a treasure hunt underway for an unspecified and undefined "Abdication treasure" supposedly sent to people in the small and not-so-idyllic village of Heronhoe by a grateful ex-King Edward VIII in 1937, after his abdication from the English throne and subsequent marriage to the American divorcee, Wallis Simpson. His Majesty was supposedly rewarding some of the villagers who had helped arrange his secret pre-marital trysts with Mrs. Simpson.

It's a complicated story, jumping as needed from events preceding the abdication in 1936 to a modern-day (well, 1970) archaeological dig and a highly suspect effort to make a television movie about a visit to Heronhoe by the then-not-quite-Edward VIII and Mrs. Simpson before he became king - and, of course, before his abdication. There are a couple of murders to be solved, too. As for the treasure, if any...well, you'll have to read Ripley's book to find out.

Regular visitors to this site know that - for the most part - I'm not a fan of these "continuations" of popular characters written after the death of the original author.  In the case of Albert Campion, however, I think there's more of a direct chain leading from Allingham to Ripley. When Margery Allingham died, leaving two still-unfinished Campion novels, her husband, Philip Youngman Carter, completed them. Then Carter himself died, leaving behind a fragment of a new Campion novel of his own, which was eventually completed by Mike Ripley, who has now written more of them. So, to my mind at least, there's a direct link to be followed here, and the Campion of Ripley's novels is the legitimate inheritor of the original character. Campion is aging well, if not exactly gracefully, as he approaches his 70th birthday in 1970 (when this new book is set); regular followers of the series will also find Campion's friend and servant (he hates being called a "butler") Magersfontein Lugg playing a significant role, along with other members of Campion's family. The book is more of a thriller than a detective story, but Campion fans are likely to enjoy it. As I said, Mr. Campion's Abdication is being published in November by Severn House, which made an electronic copy available to me for this review. 

 

 

From the Vault: "Inspector French's Greatest Case"

I'll admit to a certain amount of prejudice in support of fictional police officers who are extremely intelligent, have no drinking problems (or other disqualifying personal difficulties), have generally happy or at least acceptable family lives, occasionally make mistakes, and manage to solve complex and interesting fictional mysteries. No "noir" here, though certainly some "gris" might be both necessary and acceptable (see also "Inspector Maigret"). To find such detectives, as a general rule, the traditional mystery reader will often turn to that Golden Age which we celebrate here. Among the heroes produced by the authors in the Golden Age is the Scotland Yard detective, Inspector French, created by Freeman Wills Crofts. To learn more about Crofts and his many books, may I recommend Curtis Evans's excellent non-fiction book, Masters of the “Humdrum” Mystery: Cecil John Charles Street, Freeman Wills Crofts, Alfred Walter Stewart and the British Detective Novel, 1920–1961, an excellent source of information about some of the authors who were significant influences on other writers of the period. As for Inspector French, here's what I wrote for my podcast review of Inspector French's Greatest Case, written by Crofts in 1924, and the first (and one of the best) of the Inspector French books:

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On a cold November night, a murder victim is discovered in front of an open safe at the offices of a firm of diamond merchants. The diamonds and cash that had been kept in the safe have vanished. So begins what, for Inspector French of Scotland Yard, will become his greatest case. The story is told in Inspector French’s Greatest Case, by Freeman Wills Crofts.

When we talk about classic mystery authors, we frequently mention so many authors from the so-called Golden Age of detective fiction – writers such as Agatha Christie, Margery Allingham, Dorothy L. Sayers, and John Dickson. Carr. Curiously enough, we hear less about another of the great authors of the period, Freeman Wills Crofts. And yet, Crofts was a tremendously influential and popular author, and his primary detective character, Inspector French, was the forerunner of a great many other official investigators whose books became known as police procedurals.

Inspector French’s Greatest Case was the first book by Crofts to feature Inspector French, appearing in 1924, and the pattern of the story could be taken as a blueprint for later, similar novels. A crime is committed. Inspector French takes over the investigation. By careful and diligent pursuit of the clues – clues, I might add, generally fairly shared with the reader – Inspector French eventually finds the correct solution to the case.

For his attention to detail, Crofts has been referred to as the founder of the so-called “humdrum” school of detective fiction – presumably meant in a less-than-complimentary fashion. But that kind of routine detective work is at the heart of police procedurals, right down to the kind of forensic science we see on the various CSI series. And Crofts makes the routine work interesting for us. We follow Inspector French, understand his thinking, puzzle with him over the clues he uncovers, follow the endless red herrings, and join him as he interviews witnesses and suspects, building up the information he – and we – need to solve the crime.

It’s worth noting that Inspector French was something of a departure from most of the fictional detectives at the time, in that he was a competent, professional police investigator. Most detectives were of the “brilliant amateur” type, and the police in their stories were primarily foils for the detective work of the amateur. In Inspector French, we meet a diligent, hard-working police detective – one, to be sure, supported by a good secondary staff of officers and investigators, not to mention approving superiors – but a man who is used to working long hours and using his ingenuity and intelligence to put together the pieces of a criminal puzzle.

Certainly that’s what we are given in Inspector French’s Greatest Case. French is called in to solve what appears to be a straightforward murder and robbery at a firm of diamond merchants, where the head office clerk is found lying in front of an open – and, alas, empty – safe. It is the kind of case that might be expected to be fairly straightforward and easy to solve. But we soon discover that there are all kinds of complications – and that we are faced with a criminal who has ingeniously prepared a number of false trails, the better to conceal the truth.

And so we follow French as he visits a number of European cities, on the trail of elusive suspects. We puzzle over the clues with him and share his pleasure when he is able to interpret them correctly – and his frustrations when a particular line of the investigation fizzles out, leaving him to go back and pick up the threads and move in another direction.

Crofts earned a reputation for relying on elaborate alibis – the kind, as has been noted by others that rely on the notion that trains, for example, run exactly to the times printed on their timetables. While there is some of that in this book, most of Inspector French’s time is spent trying to trace a particularly elusive suspect, rather than looking for ways to break an alibi.

I think Inspector French’s Greatest Case is one of the best of Freeman Wills Crofts’ books. I think it is a good way to make the acquaintance of both Crofts and Inspector French. 

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This review has been edited slightly. You can listen to the original review by clicking here.

Next week: She Shall Have Murder, by Delano Ames.

"Death of a Ghost"

Most art critics agreed: John Lafcadio was a great artist. John Lafcadio also agreed - and he wanted to be sure that his reputation and his work would survive his death. So he came up with an ingenious plan to keep his name and his paintings very much in the minds of the public. Only things didn't quite work out the way he had planned, what with the murder and all...

The story is found in Margery Allingham's excellent 1934 book, Death of a Ghost, featuring her enduring amateur detective, Albert Campion. It's the subject of today's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you can listen to the entire review by clicking here.

Lafcadio's plan for keeping his art alive after his death was laid out by the artist in a letter he left for his widow, Belle. The artist left twelve sealed - and never-seen - canvases behind. Beginning a few years after his death, the paintings would be unveiled, one by one each year for a dozen years. There would be a new Lafcadio painting on view every year, which ought to ensure his lasting reputation.

And, in fact, the plan worked quite well - until the eighth year. At the gala show and exhibit of Lafcadio's latest painting that year, the unexpected happened - all the lights went out and there was a murder. Although Albert Campion - a friend of Belle - was present, he had little or no idea of what had happened. And he and his friend, Inspector Stanislaus Oates, are quickly stymied and frustrated by the apparent lack of any physical evidence whatsoever. And the first murder, it soon became clear, would not be the last.

Margery Allingham is generally regarded as one of the so-called “crime queens” of the Golden Age of detective fiction. Most of her books feature Campion in a central role, but the books also cover a range of sub-genres; some are classic puzzle mysteries, others are really thrillers at heart. Death of a Ghost really falls more into the thriller category. It’s not really a classic “whodunit” type of mystery – Campion and the readers, even the police (in the person of Inspector Oates) know the answer to THAT question about halfway through the book. The question is how to find enough proof to convince a jury and convict a killer. And finding an answer to that question would put Campion's life in grave danger. It's a beautifully written book; Allingham makes readers care about her characters - even the truly horrifying villain of the piece. I recommend Death of a Ghost to you very highly.

2017 Anthony Awards

Bouchercon, the world conference for mystery authors and mystery fans, has chosen the recipients of this year's Anthony Awards. The awards (and the conference itself) are named for the late Anthony Boucher, a fine mystery writer in his own right as well as being a critic of mysteries for the New York Times and other publication. 

The winners (and the nominees) this year - the winners are marked in bold with a triple-asterisk ***

Best Novel :

• You Will Know Me – Megan Abbott [Little, Brown]
• Where It Hurts – Reed Farrel Coleman [G.P. Putnam’s Sons]
• Red Right Hand – Chris Holm [Mulholland]
• Wilde Lake – Laura Lippman [William Morrow]
• ***  A Great Reckoning – Louise Penny [Minotaur]

Best Paperback Original :

• Shot in Detroit – Patricia Abbott [Polis]
• Leadfoot – Eric Beetner [280 Steps]
• Salem’s Cipher – Jess Lourey [Midnight Ink]
• Rain Dogs – Adrian McKinty [Seventh Street]
• How to Kill Friends and Implicate People – Jay Stringer [Thomas & Mercer]
• ***  Heart of Stone – James W. Ziskin [Seventh Street] 

Best First Novel : 

• Dodgers – Bill Beverly [Crown]
• ***  IQ – Joe Ide [Mulholland]
• Decanting a Murder – Nadine Nettmann [Midnight Ink]
• Design for Dying – Renee Patrick [Forge]
• The Drifter – Nicholas Petrie [G.P. Putnam’s Sons]

Best Anthology : 

• Unloaded: Crime Writers Writing Without Guns – Eric Beetner, ed. [Down & Out]
• In Sunlight or in Shadow – Lawrence Block, ed. [Pegasus]
• Cannibals: Stories from the Edge of the Pine Barrens – Jen Conley [Down & Out]
• ***  Blood on the Bayou: Bouchercon Anthology 2016 – Greg Herren, ed. [Down & Out]
• Waiting To Be Forgotten: Stories of Crime and Heartbreak, Inspired by the Replacements – Jay Stringer, ed. [Gutter] 

Best Short Story : 

• ***  “Oxford Girl” – Megan Abbott, Mississippi Noir [Akashic]
• “Autumn at the Automat” – Lawrence Block, In Sunlight or in Shadow [Pegasus]
• “Gary’s Got A Boner” – Johnny Shaw, Waiting to Be Forgotten [Gutter]
• “Parallel Play” – Art Taylor, Chesapeake Crimes: Storm Warning [Wildside]
• “Queen of the Dogs” – Holly West, 44 Caliber Funk: Tales of Crime, Soul and Payback [Moonstone]

Best Children’s/YA Novel

• Snowed – Maria Alexander [Raw Dog Screaming]
• ***  The Girl I Used to Be – April Henry [Henry Holt]
• Tag, You’re Dead – J.C. Lane [Poisoned Pen]
• My Sister Rosa – Justine Larbalestier [Soho Teen]
• The Fixes – Owen Matthews [HarperTeen] 

Best Novella (8,000-40,000 words) :

• Cleaning Up Finn – Sarah M. Chen [All Due Respect Books]
• No Happy Endings – Angel Luis Colón [Down & Out]
• Crosswise – S.W. Lauden [Down & Out]
• Beware the Shill – John Shepphird [Down & Out]
• ***  The Last Blue Glass – B.K. Stevens, Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine, April 2016 [Dell]

Best Critical Nonfiction Work :

• Alfred Hitchcock: A Brief Life – Peter Ackroyd [Nan A. Talese]
• Letters from a Serial Killer – Kristi Belcamino & Stephanie Kahalekulu [CreateSpace]
• ***  Shirley Jackson: A Rather Haunted Life – Ruth Franklin [Liveright]
• Something in the Blood: The Untold Story of Bram Stoker – David J. Skal [Liveright]
• The Wicked Boy: The Mystery of a Victorian Child Murderer – Kate Summerscale [Bloomsbury/Penguin] 

The winners were chosen by the roughly 1800 attendees at this year's Bouchercon, and the awards were presented at the group's closing banquet on Sunday afternoon.

Congratulations to the winners and to all the nominees!

Welcome Back, Patricia Moyes

Some exciting news from the publishers at Felony % Mayhem. Beginning in January, they'll start reprinting the books of the excellent British mystery author, Patricia Moyes - another of the fine mystery writers who were very popular in the mid-20th century, but whose 19 books have fallen into undeserved obscurity.

Four titles are listed in F&M's latest catalogue. I reviewed the first of these, Dead Men Don't Ski, some years ago, and I'm delighted to see that this 1959 title will have another opportunity to puzzle and, I think, please connoisseurs of fine British mystery. Moyes's books star Scotland Yard detective Henry Tibbett, and his wife, Emmy, plays a major role in several of the stories. You can listen to my original podcast review by clicking here. These are mysteries in the classic tradition, some including "impossible" crimes, all presenting fine puzzles for readers to enjoy.

Three other titles, The Sunken Sailor (also known as Down Among the Dead Men), Death on the Agenda, and Murder a la Mode, are also due to be re-released by Felony&Mayhem in January, and I'm sure that your favorite book dealer will be happy to pre-order them for you. Henry and Emmy Tibbett are a couple well worth knowing.

From the Vault: "The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club"

There is an old cliché which certainly contains more than a little truth: "Where there's a will, there's a way." That's usually meant as an exhortation to greater determination, but let's not forget that a "will" is also another word for a person's last testament. And when it comes to stories from the Golden Age of Detection, the saying is quite accurate. In many of those stories, the problem to be solved (usually a murder) originates in a will, often one imposing unusual conditions upon the beneficiaries. Take, for instance, the problem posed in Dorothy L. Sayers's early mystery featuring Lord Peter Wimsey: The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club. I reviewed this book nearly a decade ago, but most of my comments are still valid - I've done some minor editing to update it, but I think you'll find it interesting.

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It sounds like it could be a joke. The scene is one of those English gentlemen’s clubs, in the late 1920s. It’s one of those places where the members all seem to be in their 70s and 80s and spend all day reading the newspaper or dozing in front of the fire without speaking. The kind of place where you might not be surprised to find that one of those ancient members really is dead. But it’s not the punchline to a joke. It’s The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, by Dorothy L. Sayers.

We return today to one of my favorite authors – and one whose books are still read, enjoyed and discussed some 90 years after they were written. The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, first published in 1928, was Dorothy L. Sayers’ fourth mystery novel to feature Lord Peter Wimsey. Wimsey is the second son of a duke – in the 1920s, that put him near the top of Britain’s heavily classed society. He is intelligent and enjoys working with the police to help solve difficult crimes – and his help is usually quite readily accepted.

One November afternoon, Wimsey is sitting in the Bellona Club – one of those remarkably stuffy gentlemen’s’ clubs. He is talking with a friend, Captain George Fentiman, a young man with a number of severe nervous problems, the result of his service during what we now call the First World War. Captain Fentiman points out his 90-year-old grandfather who is visible only as two legs stretched out of his armchair before the fire. Captain Fentiman jokes about club members so habit-bound that they could probably die in their club chairs without anyone noticing.

A few moments later, however, we discover that this is precisely what has happened to General Fentiman: he is dead in his chair, with rigor mortis already having set in. Apparently he has been sitting there – dead – all day, without anyone noticing.

The General’s death, while obviously a source of unpleasantness for the other club members, was hardly a surprise – after all, he was 90 years old and in poor health. But within a few days, it turns out that the general and his family may have just inherited a very large sum of money indeed – but that whether the General’s heirs get the money or it goes to someone else depends on the exact time that the General died.

And therein lies the problem, for – as the General appears to have been sitting in front of that fire all day, preventing the body from cooling – nobody can pinpoint the time of his death. Certainly his doctor can not do so. Lord Peter is pressed – first by his friend, Captain Fentiman and then by the lawyer representing the family – to get involved and try to determine somehow exactly when the general died.

That proves to be difficult, and Lord Peter finds himself in an increasingly uncomfortable situation. That is particularly true when the general’s body is exhumed – and the doctors discover that he died as the result of a large dose of poison.

Sayers handles all of this with her usual style. She is a fine writer. Her sometimes annoying habit of dropping literary references into her stories (in the form of quotes by Lord Peter and others) is rarely seen here. Instead, she allows us to concentrate on the interesting assortment of characters assembled for this story. Lord Peter, his valet and close assistant Bunter (who is very much the perfect gentleman’s gentleman, as befits a personal valet of the 1920s), Peter’s friend (and eventual brother-in-law) from Scotland Yard, Charles Parker – these recurring characters are given some room to perform for us in The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club. Captain Fentiman, the nervous and embittered ex-soldier, is made very sympathetic to us, as is his wife. His brother, Major Robert Fentiman, has a different personality and plays a very different role in finding a solution to the crime. And there are so many others, all quite individualized, all well defined for the reader.

I suspect that many readers are likely to reach the solution with, or even ahead of, Lord Peter – it is a classic puzzle mystery, and we are given the necessary clues as we move through the book. The ending is a bit disappointing to me, although it is fairly typical of many Golden Age novels, in that the culprit is encouraged to commit suicide rather than stand trial. It’s a too-common way out; I prefer some of the other novels, in which Wimsey finds himself deeply troubled by sending killers off to the hangman.

But that’s quibbling on my part. The Unpleasantness at the Bellona Club, by Dorothy L. Sayers, remains in print, nearly 90 years after it first appeared, and I’m sure your favorite mystery bookstore will be delighted to find a copy for you.

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You can listen to the original podcast audio review by clicking here.

Next week: Inspector French's Greatest Case, by Freeman Wills Crofts

"Triple Jeopardy"

This week, mystery authors and their faithful readers are gathering in Toronto for the annual mystery festival known as Bouchercon. There will be four days of non-stop talk about mysteries, a fair amount will be consumed at the bar, and there will be "external" events as well. One of those events will be a banquet - now sold out, by the way - by, and for, the Wolfe Pack, the fan club that honors the memory of author Rex Stout and his inimitable detective duo, Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. I'll be one of the more than a hundred guests.

I'm taking it for granted that my readers here are very familiar with the Nero Wolfe books. They're certainly among my favorites, books that can be re-read with some frequency, because they offer the same (or even increased) pleasure each time we read them. I thought this might be a good excuse for me to re-read three of Stout's novellas which were published together in 1953 as Triple Jeopardy. That's the title of the book which is the subject of today's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you can listen to the complete review by clicking here.

It's a good Wolfean collection - not a great one, but a good one.

The first novella is called “Home to Roost.” A young man – an extreme left-wing type suspected of being a Communist - is poisoned by swallowing what he thought was his regular vitamin pill. His aunt and uncle, finding themselves stonewalled by an uncooperative FBI and equally silent New York City police department, turn to Nero Wolfe to solve the murder and – they hope – prove that the young man was no Communist.

In the second story, called “The Cop-Killer,” we learn first of all that Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin both have their hair cut at a neighborhood barber shop. Unfortunately, this winds up pulling both men into the midst of a murder case, when an over-ambitious police officer, searching for a hit-and-run driver, is stabbed to death in the barber shop. Police think they know who committed the murder. Wolfe and Archie don’t agree…and are prepared to do something about it. There are some lovely confrontations with Inspector Cramer and Sergeant Purley Stebbins along the way.

The final novella in the book has the rather picturesque title of “The Squirt and the Monkey.” Archie finds himself suspected of murder and Wolfe finds his detective license at risk as they confront the artists responsible for a popular – and unusual – comic strip…and try to figure out which of them may really be guilty of murder.

Triple Jeopardy is an enjoyable trio of shorter mystery stories. It’s well worth your reading time. And I'll be delighted to drink your health at this week's Wolfe Pack banquet in Toronto!