Classic Mysteries

From the Vault: "An English Murder"

Now here's a fine example of the Golden Age mystery - a little late, perhaps, to be included on the basis of its 1951 publication date. But Cyril Hare's An English Murder touches so many points dear to the hearts and minds of Golden Age fans that it would be uncharitable at best to be a stickler over dates. It's a country house murder, with a crime scene isolated by a massive snowstorm. There are tensions between the servants and members of the house party. And, to be sure, there's a murder. What makes it a uniquely English, murder, you ask? That would be telling! In any case, I reviewed An English Murder several years ago for the Classic Mysteries podcast. Here's a slightly edited transcript for your enjoyment:

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It was the perfect setting for a murder – well, at least it was the kind of scene we rather expect to find in classic English mysteries. The occasion: a family Christmas gathering at the country manor of a British nobleman. The players: a family whose members quite clearly do not always love each other. An enigmatic family servant – and his daughter, who may have a secret. A couple of additional upper-class English guests. A definitely-foreign-born historian and scholar. A police detective, assigned to protect one of the guests. Oh, and a snowstorm, that leaves the people in that country manor completely cut off from the outside world. Could there be a better setting for An English Murder?

Cyril Hare was the pen name of Alfred Alexander Gordon Clark, a British jurist. As Hare, he wrote a number of mysteries, a couple of them with series detectives. But An English Murder, first published in 1951, is a stand-alone mystery – one which reflects rather nicely the tremendous political turmoil of post-world-war-two Britain.

An English Murder takes place at Warbeck Hall, the oldest inhabited house in the fictional county of Markshire. The master of the house is Lord Warbeck himself, but he is a very sick and very old man; nobody – including Lord Warbeck – expects him to survive for long. He has called other members of his family and a couple of friends to join him at Warbeck Hall for what everyone presumes will be the Lord’s final Christmas celebration.

And so the family and friends gather. In that gathering, we find a most potent mix of political philosophies. Lord Warbeck himself is the classic British aristocrat – the type whose wealth and power were diminishing rapidly in post-war Britain. In fact, Lord Warbeck’s brother himself, Sir Julius Warbeck, Britain’s powerful Chancellor of the Exchequer, is largely responsible for the fact that – on Lord Warbeck’s death – there won’t be enough money in the family for them to continue to own Warbeck Hall, although Lord Warbeck’s title will be passed down to his son, Robert. As for Robert, who is also on hand for Christmas, he is the leader of a neo-Fascist group called the League of Liberty and Justice, a group that appears to have learned nothing from the lessons of World War II and is every bit as intolerant and bigoted as you might expect.

So, in this very English family, we have the family patriarch – a conservative nobleman, his brother, the socialist chancellor, and his son, the fascist. And they get along together about as well as you might expect from those conflicting beliefs.

There are also two women on hand for the gathering – Camilla Prendergast, who has long been considered a family member and who appears very interested in young Robert Warbeck, and a Mrs. Carstairs, the wife of Sir Julius Warbeck’s right-hand man.

There is the butler, Briggs, of course. No upper-class English household would be complete without a butler.

And there are two other people who will play important roles in the story. There is a visiting historian who is going through the Warbeck family papers, at Lord Warbeck’s request. Dr. Bottwink is very much UN-English, if I may put it that way – with a background as a Jewish war refugee from central Europe – which, of course, makes him a target of scorn for the neo-fascist Robert Warbeck. And there is a detective named Rogers, sent along by the Special Branch of Scotland Yard, as a bodyguard and protector for Sir Julian Warbeck.

And then there is a massive snowstorm – and the English country house finds itself completely cut off from any communication with the rest of the world…

And, naturally, there is a murder. More than one, in fact. And it will fall to the two outsiders – Doctor Bottwink and Sergeant Rogers – to solve the mystery and find a solution to this very English murder.

An English Murder is remarkably well-plotted and filled with the things that we would expect from an English Golden Age country house mystery (even if it was written after the end of that Golden Age). The strains among the different classes – and between the very English members of the house party and the very foreign Doctor Bottwink – are remarkably well defined. I don’t want to say much more about the plot – though I do have to add that Robert, the Fascist member of the family, is as thoroughly unpleasant as you might expect. As for the author, Cyril Hare is another of those fine British authors of the period who has been sadly neglected.

 

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

Next: The Black Camel, by Earl Derr Biggers.

"The Black Mountain"

Any fan of Rex Stout's books about Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin knows that - as a general rule - Mr. Wolfe refuses to leave his home on business. But there are exceptions. One of those exceptions saw Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin actually leave the United States for a long (and, especially for Wolfe, uncomfortable) journey to Montenegro, in the heart of Europe, thousands of miles from home. It's a story of promises kept, and a story of great personal loss for Nero Wolfe. It's the story told in Rex Stout's 1954 novel The Black Mountain, and that book is the subject of today's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast. You're welcome to listen to the complete audio review by clicking here.

Marko Vukcic was Nero Wolfe's oldest and closest friend. The two had been boys together, growing up in Montenegro. Wolfe eventually came to New York City; so did Marko, who owned and ran Rusterman's, the only restaurant that Nero Wolfe would visit once a month for dinner - and Marko, in turn, would visit Wolfe's brownstone monthly to enjoy one of Fritz Brenner's excellent dinners with Wolfe and Archie.

And then one Thursday evening in March of 1954, Marko Vukcic was murdered – shot three times by someone who had been sitting in a parked car outside the New York apartment building where Marko lived.

The job of finding his killer was a debt of honor, a promise to be kept by Nero Wolfe. And that is why Wolfe and Archie Goodwin left New York behind and traveled all the way to Montenegro – where, they were told, Marko’s killer had fled – with the goal of bringing him back to face justice, dead or alive. And in doing so, Wolfe would face another very personal loss…

Most of the Nero Wolfe books fall into the traditional detective story mold, with the emphasis on the detective's skills and the characters of some of the 35th Street regulars. The Black Mountain is different, falling more into the international action-adventure category. It's the only one of the Wolfe books where Goodwin and Wolfe reverse their usual roles - Archie doesn't speak the language, so Wolfe must brief Archie rather than the normal situation in which Archie gathers information and briefs Wolfe on his investigations. What you have in The Black Mountain, in my opinion, is a book that should not be missed by any Wolfe fan. Unfortunately, the last time I checked, it appears to be out of print in paper; there is an e-book version available as well as a couple of audiobooks. It's worth the effort to find and read The Black Mountain.

From the Vault: "Homicide Trinity"

Our weekly trip into the Classic Mysteries vault is offering a 3-for-1 special this week. It's a trio of reviews of Nero Wolfe novellas by Rex Stout, originally published in book format as Homicide Trinity in 1962. This is a slightly edited transcipt of my audio review, which originally appeared several years ago on the Classic Mysteries podcast. As usual, it's free for the reading - so please read and enjoy!

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Nero Wolfe’s day didn’t start off well in his old brownstone on West 35^th Street. At lunch that day, he managed to get some sauce on his tie. So he took off the tie and left it on his desk. Then an unexpected visitor – a potential client – showed up at the brownstone, unannounced – but Wolfe was upstairs with his orchids, so Archie Goodwin let the woman come in and sit in the office to wait while he went upstairs himself to argue with Wolfe about seeing her. And while the visitor waited, somebody came into the brownstone and strangled her. Using Nero Wolfe’s spotted tie. It’s no wonder that Wolfe was more than a little upset. You can read all about the case – and two other murders that wound up enraging Nero Wolfe…in Homicide Trinity, by Rex Stout.

One of the reasons why I reread Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe books as often as I do is because Stout was a master of the specialized short story form known as the novella. It’s longer than a normal short story, long enough to permit some character and plot development, but it’s shorter than a book, meaning that the writing and plotting is often a lot tighter than in some of the full-length novels.

During Stout’s lifetime, the novellas generally appeared in groups of three or four that were published together in book form. That’s the case with Homicide Trinity, originally published in 1962. It contains three novellas, each of which stands alone and unrelated to the others – and each with a puzzle that manages to enrage Nero Wolfe.

Take the first story, “Eeny Meeny Murder Mo,” which I described earlier. Someone actually has the audacity to commit a murder in Nero Wolfe’s office, using the great man’s own necktie. The word “enraged” probably doesn’t begin to describe Wolfe’s feelings, and if you are familiar with the series, you can probably imagine the reaction of Wolfe’s long-time nemesis, Inspector Cramer of the New York City police department, when he hears that there has been a murder in Nero Wolfe’s office using an article of Wolfe’s clothing. Wolfe feels that he must solve the murder himself, to soothe his outraged dignity. The trouble is that there are four principal suspects, any one of whom might have had the motive and the opportunity for the crime. It is a situation, as Archie observes, of “eeny meeny murder mo,” You’ll enjoy the scheme employed by Wolfe to solve this one, which involves one of Wolfe’s signature office confrontations.

The second novella, “Death of a Demon,” begins with a woman coming to Nero Wolfe carrying a gun: this, she says proudly, is the gun she will NOT shoot her husband with. She has brought it to show to Nero Wolfe so that – if her husband is shot – he would tell the police and they would arrest her. The idea, obviously, is that despite provocation, she cannot now kill her husband, because someone would know of her plans. The only trouble is that her husband is already dead – yes, shot to death. And Wolfe finds himself again dragged into a murder case against his will – and in the position this time of having to navigate between protecting a client and obstructing justice.

The final novella in the “Homicide Trinity” collection is called “Counterfeit for Murder,” and, in some ways I think, it’s the most enjoyable one in the collection. It features one of the most memorable and unlikely clients in any of the Wolfe books, a woman named Hattie Annis. She keeps a boarding house for aspiring actors. She comes to the brownstone because one of her clients apparently has been involved in creating and passing counterfeit money. Hattie Annis is very different from most of the other women in the Wolfe books – she has a very strong character, refuses to be cowed by either Archie or Wolfe, and hates the police, which tends to make everyone’s life more difficult. As someone quickly tries to use a stolen car to run down Hattie Annis, it would seem that she’s in serious danger. And it doesn’t help matters when one of her boarders is murdered…or when a secret service agent shows up at Wolfe’s door demanding that he and Archie come clean about this counterfeiting business.

Hattie Annis is a wonderful character – she’s middle-aged, distinctly unattractive (according to Archie, who considers himself something of an expert in the field). She puts up with nothing from anyone, including the police and secret service. She calls Archie “Buster” and flabbergasts Wolfe by asking him to feed her lamb kidneys bourguignionne. And I can think of very few characters – male OR female – who have ever successfully flabbergasted Nero Wolfe. The mystery itself is okay – another of those plots where the villain has to be one of a handful of people – but Hattie Annis is truly an extraordinary character. Even Wolfe grows to admire her.

All of the stories, as always, are narrated by Archie, and they are full of the kind of wisecracking dialogue that we have come to expect from a Rex Stout book. Let me give you just one example: in “Death of a Demon,” Wolfe is asking Archie if their female client is likely to answer questions from the police. Wolfe speaks first:

Will she report what she told me?

“No.”

A corner of his mouth twitched. “That’s why I put up with you; you could have answered with fifty words and you did it with one.”

“I’ve often wondered. Now tell me why I put up with you.”

“That’s beyond conjecture.”

Sorry, but I love that exchange. For fans of the regular characters, you’ll find them all here, with plenty of work to do, particularly Inspector Cramer. It you prefer your Nero Wolfe in shorter, bite-sized chunks, Homicide Trinity will satisfy your hunger.

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

Next: An English Murder, by Cyril Hare.

"The Box Office Murders"

It didn't seem to make sense. Young women who had jobs as box-office clerks at movies or theater productions appeared to be committing suicide - very sad, to be sure, but hardly a police matter. Then, one young woman turned up at Inspector French's office at Scotland Yard because she was terrified for her life. She had somehow allowed some rather unsavory people – a small gang of them, apparently – to get control over her by involving her in some petty crime. Now here she was in French's office, asking the police for help. French believed her and tried to offer her some reassurance, some protection. But good intentions don’t always work out as hoped. And that was when those suicides began to look more and more like murders. The full story is told in The Box Office Murders, a 1929 mystery by Freeman Wills Crofts featuring Inspector French. It's the subject of today's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you're invited to listen to that complete review by clicking here.

Inspector French kept running up against the same problem: why on earth should some criminal gang be trying to lure theatre box office cashiers into some kind of illegal but apparently profitable scheme, even though nobody could figure out what that scheme was…but a scheme which was leaving a deadly trail of victims behind it. As French searches desperately for clues that may help him discover the nature of the deadly plot in which these young women are trapped, he finds himself coming up against dead end after dead end.

And that’s what worries French – the feeling that unless he can crack this case quickly, there are going to be more deaths – and he doesn’t see any real way of stopping them.

Freeman Wills Crofts was one of the leading mystery authors of the Golden Age of Detection. He's usually known for stories which involve detailed timetables or other mainstays of classic police routine. The Box Office Murders is different: we know, almost from the start, who is involved, and who the villains are. But, like French, we don't know the nature of their threat - although, for those who cross the plans of the group, the penalty is death. There's plenty of action, along with a lot of careful police procedure by French - and that's what ultimately makes the difference. It's an excellent book.

From the Vault: "Death of Jezebel"

I love pleasant surprises - and the ones I am given by favorite authors in their mysteries are most certainly pleasant ones. From the Classic Mysteries vault this week, here's a 1948 book from the amazing Christianna Brand, called Death of Jezebel. It is the story of a seemingly impossible murder - and more. Here's a slightly edited transcript of the audio review I presented on the Classic Mysteries podcast several years ago. I hope you'll enjoy it - and I'm happy to see that Death of Jezebel is one of the seven books featuring her series detective, Inspector Cockrill, that are currently available as e-books. Short version of the following review: GET IT. READ IT. Longer version follows:

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“Jezebel!” said Inspector Cockrill. He raised his head and stared up at the foolish narrow window and the little balcony. “And she went up into a high tower,” he recited. “And she painted her face and tiered her head, and she looked out of the window…” He paused, glancing about him brightly.

Sergeant Bedd’s eyes shone. “And they threw her down – three eunuchs it was, sir, threw her down; and her blood was sprinkled upon the wall. And the horses trod on her, and the dogs came…”

Biblical recitations in a murder mystery? Well…yes. Inspector Cockrill is on the scene of a most impossible murder – the murder of a rather unpleasant woman named Isabel Drew, known to her friends – if you can call them friends – as Jezebel. This Jezebel dies, rather spectacularly, strangled and thrown from a tower onstage in the middle of an industrial pageant show, in front of a couple of thousand witnesses – yet nobody saw what really happened. And so we have an impossible crime and a first-rate mystery called Death of Jezebel, by Christianna Brand.

Perhaps if she had written more novels in the course of her career, Christianna Brand would be remembered today as one of the great British Crime Queens. She began writing in 1941, at the tail end of the Golden Age of Detection, and pretty well wound down after the 1950s. But some of her books rank among the best – and fairest – traditional mysteries. I would have to say that her book Green for Danger, written in 1944, is one of the most breathtaking and brilliant mysteries I have ever read. [Ed. Note - I'll stand by that in 2020, too!]

And then, four years later, in 1948, came Death of Jezebel, which is a marvelous “impossible crime” story. For Death of Jezebel, Brand did something that only a handful of other authors have done: she put two of her series sleuths to work together on the mystery. One – the principal investigator – is Inspector Cockrill, of the police in Kent, England, her main series detective, who, in this novel, happens to be on hand in a London exhibition hall when the murder takes place. The other is Inspector Charlesworth, a London detective who appears on his own in two other novels by Brand. He’s the officer in charge of the Jezebel murder. I’ll have more to say about the relationship between these two men in a moment. But first, let me tell you a bit more about the plot – for Brand has a great deal of fun setting it up for the audience.

At one point early on in the novel, for example, after introducing us briefly to all the major characters, Brand writes:

Isabel prattled gaily on, and all unconscious of their doom, the little victims played. The kill had been selected. The killer at hand. The bystanders were gathering at the scene of execution; and Isabel with every careless word knocked yet another nail into the highly complicated structure of double murder.

Now that should get your attention! And what happens, in essence, is this: the central characters – from whom we will get both our victims and our suspects – are all involved in a British industrial pageant, taking place on a stage in an exhibition hall. The designers have built a fifteen-foot tower on stage. There is a pageant involving a dozen people (including several of the suspects) dressed in full suits of armor, mounted on horseback – yes, live horses – parading onto the stage in front of the tower. They will look up to the tower; the lights will come up at the top of the tower, and Isabel Drew – our Jezebel – will come out on the balcony and make a speech.

Only when they perform the pageant, in front of a couple of thousand spectators, and look up – what they see is Isabel Drew pushed over the railing and falling to the stage. And when the stunned knights look at the body, they discover that she has been strangled within minutes of being thrown over the balcony. But the tower itself apparently is inaccessible – for the only door to the tower backstage is bolted on the inside, and one of the crew members is sitting on the other side of that door, ready to swear than nobody passed through.

Or as Inspector Cockrill puts it to Inspector Charlesworth, as they try to make sense out of the case:

This is a projection of the ‘sealed room’ mystery. The scene of the murder was bounded on one side by a stage, under the observation of several thousand pairs of eyes; and on the other by a locked door, with somebody sitting on guard on the other side of it. The murderer must have been within these confines. And the place is as bare as a biscuit box, so that there is nowhere where he can possibly have hidden, or remain hidden.

Impossible? It certainly seems that way. The two inspectors have to struggle with two murders (and a possible attempted third murder) in this bizarre case. It doesn’t help that there’s some animosity between the two detectives. Remember what I said about the book Green for Danger? In that earlier book, set in a hospital in Kent, Inspector Cockrill makes some serious mistakes – and he is reminded of those mistakes frequently in Death of Jezebel. When Inspector Charlesworth meets Cockie, as he is called, he says:

“Cockrill, Cockrill,” said Charlesworth, thoughtfully biting upon his underlip. “Where have I…? Oh, yes! It was you who made such a muck of that hospital case down in Kent!” Innocent of the slightest intention to wound, he shook the inspector thoroughly by the hand. “Delighted to have you down here. Hang around!”

“Thank you,” said Cockie austerely.

As you might imagine, Cockie will be looking for a chance to get even on that score!

As for the impossible crime, you may be relieved to hear that there is a rational solution. In fact, this being a Christianna Brand novel, there is more than one rational solution – there are several possibilities. And again, because it is a Christianna Brand novel, there will be a number of excellent and disturbing twists to the story before it is resolved. This is not necessarily going to end happily ever after for all of these people. And Brand makes us care – deeply – about her characters – and, yes, that even includes the murderer.

Let me close this discussion by observing that Inspectors Cockrill and Charlesworth do agree on one important point – mystery fiction bears little relation to reality. Here’s what they say:

“This is not a detective novel,” said Cockrill. “In real life the police don’t ‘reconstruct the crime’ so as to confront the criminal. These writer people never get their police procedure right.”

“It would be so deadly dull if they did,” said Charlesworth. “I suppose they reckon that their job is to entertain and not to worry too much about what could or would or couldn’t or wouldn’t have happened. After all, their books are just fun to read – not treatises on the law.”

Enough. Death of Jezebel, by Christianna Brand, is a thorough delight, a brilliant impossible crime mystery, a sometimes bloody tale about believable characters. I recommend it very highly indeed. Oh, and if you haven’t read Green for Danger…well, you really need to read that, too.

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

Next: Homicide Trinity, by Rex Stout.

"The Collected Short Fiction of Ngaio Marsh"

Have you ever finished reading all of the novels written by an author whose books you really enjoy and find yourself wishing for more? Perhaps you go looking for short stories next – preferably about your favorite characters, but you’re open to just about anything that will give you the pleasure of finding, so to speak, fine old wine in a new bottle. That’s sort of how I feel about a volume of short stories and a couple of other writings by one of the so-called Crime Queens of the Golden Age, Ngaio Marsh.

First, for those of you with eagle's eyes, always eager to pounce (or more likely to ignore) the "mistake" you see in the headline above, the title of the volume we're discussing today goes by a couple of different names. As I've had the volume on my bookshelves for many years under the title given in its earlier incarnation - The Collected Short Fiction of Ngaio Marsh - I'm sticking with that title. However, the book is currently in print from Felony & Mayhem Press and should be available for your favorite book dealer (or Amazon) as Collected Short Mysteries, which also makes sense, and it also links to a much lower and more affordable price for the book, so choose your poison (as we say in the fictional murder biz). Or check out both of the above links.

No matter which title you prefer, the book itself is a short collection, edited and introduced by mystery scholar Douglas G. Greene, of all of the short fictional works of one of the great queens of the Golden Age of Detective Fiction, Ngaio Marsh. Her reputation is justifiably based on her 32 mystery novels written between 1934 and 1982. Her series detective star is Detective-Inspector Roderick Alleyn of Scotland Yard. He is joined – in many of the author’s later books – by his wife, Agatha Troy Alleyn.

Marsh passed away in 1982, but she was more fortunate than many other writers of the Golden Age in that many of her books have endured and are still available in print or electronic editions. In 1989, Douglas G. Greene put together this anthology of mostly-unknown short works by Marsh. There’s something in it for nearly everyone who enjoys her writing, including a couple of essays explaining the origins of both the characters of Alleyn and Troy.. For more details about what else you'll find in the book, please do click over to this week's Classic Mysteries podcast, where I've included a list and some comments. It’s an interesting collection of little-known works by Ngaio Marsh, and I commend it to you.

 

From the Vault: "Hamlet, Revenge!"

Beginning in the heart of the Golden Age, 1936, and continuing for half a century thereafter, author Michael Innes wrote a series of delightful, witty and cleverly plotted mystery novels featuring Inspector John Appleby (in later books, Sir John Appleby) of Scotland Yard. For our excursion into the sometimes strange world inhabited by both character and author, I've decided to offer you my thoughts, not on Innes's first book, Seven Suspects, which is quite good, but his second, Hamlet, Revenge!, which is downright brilliant. Here's a slightly edited transcript of my audio review, originally done several years ago for the Classic Mysteries podcast.

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If you are a detective employed by Scotland Yard, and you come home from an enjoyable evening at the ballet to find sitting – unannounced and unexpected – in your very small Westminster flat – your immediate superior, along with the Chief Commissioner of Scotland Yard AND the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom – all waiting for you, you may be pretty sure that something major has happened. That rather unnerving experience sends Inspector John Appleby off to Scamnum Court, the country home of the Duke of Horton, where there has been a murder in the midst of an amateur production of Hamlet. The victim – playing Polonius – was the Lord Chancellor of England. Oh yes, and it is quite possible that the Lord Chancellor had with him a very secret and sensitive document, which – should it fall into the hands of the spies searching for it – could be extremely dangerous to the entire world. Which undoubtedly explains that high-powered group waiting for Appleby in his flat…and the truly fantastic events contained in Hamlet, Revenge!, by Michael Innes.

Regular visitors to this podcast and to my blog know that I am very much a fan of the mysteries of Michael Innes, the pen name of John Innes Mackintosh Stewart. When he is good, he is delightful. Even when he was not at his best form, his books are always interesting. And when he is absolutely at his best – as he is with Hamlet, Revenge! – Innes is largely unequalled. Hamlet, Revenge! which was only the second novel Innes ever wrote, published in 1937, uses one of Shakespeare’s greatest tragedies as a framework for a dazzling story of crime and possible espionage among members of the British upper class, as it was in the years leading up to World War II.

As the book opens, preparations are under way for an amateur production of Hamlet at Scamnum Court, the home of Edward Crispin, the Duke of Horton. A stage, modeled after Elizabethan stages, has been built in the center of the Duke’s house. The cast includes the Duke, members of his family and other important guests, including Lord Auldearn, the Lord Chancellor of England, who will play the part of Polonius. If you remember the play – and, as an English major, let me interrupt myself here to recommend rereading Hamlet – if you remember the play, you will remember that Polonius is stabbed to death by Hamlet during the course of the play. As Hamlet, the organizers have cast Melville Clay, a respected and popular professional Shakespearean actor, who brings an immense talent to the role. The play will be directed by Giles Gott, the Duke’s old tutor and an eminent Shakespearean scholar, who also writes mystery novels on the side.

But there are undercurrents as the preparations go forward. Several peculiar messages are received – quotations, mostly, though not all from Hamlet – but messages which talk of revenge. But the play goes on. And in Act 3, when Polonius is supposed to be stabbed to death in his hiding place behind a giant tapestry, a pistol-shot is heard…

And so Inspector John Appleby arrives home at his London flat to find a committee waiting for him that includes the Prime Minister of the U.K. The prime minister is shocked by the murder…but that isn’t what concerns him most. It seems that the Lord Chancellor had taken a top-secret document with him for study – a document which, if it fell into the wrong hands, might even lead to war. Appleby is dispatched to Scamnum Court first to find and preserve the document, if he can – and then to find out who murdered the Lord Chancellor.

In this, he will be helped by Giles Gott, an old friend and colleague – remember that Gott also wrote murder mysteries. There will be another murder…a variety of motives and suspects…and a thoroughly satisfying chase and climax.

But there is so much more. There is Innes’s fine writing. At one point, describing one of the members of the Duke’s household, he writes,

“a murder seemed to have approximately as much effect on him as an aspirin tablet; there was a slightly depressant action lasting about an hour.”

There are remarkable and memorable characters assembled at Scamnum Court. And over it all there is the play within the novel, Hamlet. Innes was a scholar at Oxford and other universities, and when he writes of Hamlet, he writes with a deep love for, and understanding of the play. He never talks down to his readers, assuming that we will share his pleasure with the play and savor its language. And it is certainly true, in the context of Hamlet, Revenge!, that the story would not – could not – unfold as it does without having that play at its center.

Reviewing Hamlet, Revenge!, the Saturday Review said

“Possibly the most literary mystery ever dished up to the thrill-loving public. Capitally worked out, beautifully written, and erudite no end.”

And in the introduction to the old Collier paperback edition that sits on my bookshelf, the great critic Anthony Boucher wrote 

"In a quarter of a century of prolific writing, Innes has never (God bless him!) found a formula. He is almost a different literary personality with each book. But a few things one can always be sure of in any Innes volume: the prose will be graceful, allusive, and witty. There will be plentiful evidence of a fertile inventive mind at work. And the story (of whatever type it may be) will be paramount, even surmounting the temptations of grace and erudition.”

To me, that sums it up. Hamlet, Revenge!, by Michael Innes is a delight. Do yourself a favor and get it – either in print or as an ebook; it’s available both ways.

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

Next: Death of Jezebel, by Christianna Brand

"The Triple Bite"

Cecilia Cameron was having dinner in a small restaurant when she overheard part of a conversation that she wasn't supposed to hear. It began with a mention of Dallow Corner in Sussex, where Cecilia was living with her uncle - but here's what Miss Cameron remembers most about that overheard conversation:

“a coarse sort of laugh. More than that even. It was low throaty, and altogether horrible. Then I heard another voice say something about “salmon” to which the voice of the horrible laugh replied, “Good job he died. If he hadn’t I’d have slit his throat for a tenth part of it.”

By the time she could look around to see who was speaking, the adjoining table was empty. But from that small beginning, a terrifying plot began to take shape - a plot aimed at Cecilia Cameron and her friends. Fortunately, those friends included Anthony Bathurst, whose success at solving puzzles - especially murderous ones - would prove to be literally lifesavers. And we’re off and running with a story about a couple of mysterious murders, a clue in the form of a mysterious cryptogram, numerous hints about what could be buried treasure, a message left by a dying man, and some unpleasant encounters with a truly evil group of villains. It all happens in The Triple Bite, a 1931 thriller and mystery by Brian Flynn. It's the subject of my audio review on this week's Classic Mysteries podcast, and you can listen to the complete review by clicking here.

The Triple Bite was written in the heart of the Golden Age, but it's much more a thriller than a puzzle-plot mystery - it reads as if it could have been a collaboration between Edgar Wallace and Sax Rohmer. There's also a significant reference to Sherlock Holmes which will be appreciated by the dedicated Sherlockians who visit here. And there is Flynn's sleuth, Anthony Bathurst, described as a polymath, an expert in many things who also acts as an advisor to Scotland Yard. There are also some very nice touches – particularly when it comes to the “triple bite” of the book’s title. It’s not a completely original idea; I’m reminded of a similar situation in a story by Samuel Hopkins Adams, but it’s unusual enough (and unpleasant enough) to make an impression.

Long unavailable in any format, The Triple Bite and most of Brian Flynn's novels about Anthony Bathurst are back in print, courtesy of Dean Street Press. There's a good amount of action (at least by Golden Age standards) and a plot which grabs readers very quickly and keeps them racing to keep up. I do think you would enjoy it.

 

From the Vault: "The Corpse Steps Out"

From time to time, I find myself reading a deeply-serious mystery book and wishing that I could find something a little lighter in tone, something which uses humor to tell a serious story and to relieve some of the tension we find in a great mystery classic. That's when I'm likely to go back to my bookshelves and grab a book by Craig Rice. And to those who say "murder can never be funny!" I would recommend just about any of Rice's books to prove that they are mistaken. For example, take The Corpse Steps Out, first published in 1940. I recorded an audio review of The Corpse Steps Out for the Classic Mysteries podcast several years ago, and this edited transcript may help explain my fascination with Craig Rice's novels and her sense of humor:

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Nelle Brown has a problem. Living in Chicago, she’s the successful star of a weekly radio broadcast (which, in the late 1930s, meant she was being heard in living rooms all across the country – and getting paid a lot of money for it, too). She’s married to an older man, called “Tootz,” who is insane but whom she loves, and she is also having a quiet affair with a younger man, called “Baby,” whom she really doesn’t love. She’s also being blackmailed by another former lover. But that’s not her real problem. No, the real problem confronting Nelle Brown is that she goes to visit the blackmailer to try to get back some incriminating love letters – and finds him shot to death. And then the corpse disappears. And that’s just the beginning of the high-spirited 1940 mystery-comedy, The Corpse Steps Out, by Craig Rice.

Nelle Brown’s predicament in The Corpse Steps Out is quite serious. In that era, any hint of scandal would be enough to end her career instantly – not to mention that the police would be certain to consider her their prime suspect. Fortunately for Nelle, she has a number of willing helpers eager to get her out of this mess. There’s her press agent and manager, Jake Justus, who is the guy who discovers that the victim’s body has disappeared. There’s socialite Helene Brand, whose primary interests are drinking, driving and trying to get married to Jake, a project of which he wholeheartedly approves. And there’s Jake and Helene’s good friend, John J. Malone, a short, balding, usually-inebriated and rather shady Chicago lawyer who specializes in winning acquittals for a variety of mostly-guilty clients. Jake, Helene and Malone volunteer to do what they can to protect Nelle Brown, even if it means that Jake and Helene have to postpone their wedding a bit. And the three of them are not above moving a body or two themselves – and in fact they will have several opportunities to do so in the course of this adventure, as the number of dead bodies continues to increase.

That all probably sounds very complicated. Okay, it IS very complicated, but it’s also hilariously funny and a very good, sufficiently-clued traditional mystery as well.

This is a dangerous book to read in, say, a crowded waiting room or on a busy commuter bus, as you will find yourself snorting and laughing out loud at some of the events and the dialogue. Craig Rice once wrote, “Murder is not mirthful and there is nothing comic about a corpse,”  but fortunately she rarely followed her own advice.

A couple of examples: At one point, when another body is discovered, Nelle Brown insists that it must be a mistake or that the person who shot the victim isn’t in the radio business, because “no one in radio would shoot a prospective sponsor.” At another point, Helene, who is searching Chicago trying to remember where she parked her car while she was very drunk, suddenly remembers where she left it.

“I left it by the NO PARKING sign in front of the Chicago Avenue Police Station,” she said happily. “I remember thinking at the time, it would be such a good safe place for it.”

Craig Rice wrote about a dozen books starring Jake, Helene and Malone, and they all contain this kind of offbeat and sometimes darkly colored humor blended into a good and solid, well-plotted mystery. The dialogue sparkles; the situations are mostly incredible but very funny (once you can accept the idea of a murder being funny). If you enjoy quirky humor and tight (if offbeat) plotting, you’ll enjoy The Corpse Steps Out.

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You can listen to the original recording from the Classic Mysteries podcast by clicking here.

Next: Hamlet, Revenge! by Michael Innes.