Classic Mysteries

From the Vault: "Death in a White Tie"

I must admit that, when it comes to a question of who is (and who is NOT) a Golden Age author, I tend to be flexible. Some of the best authors who began writing in the heart of the 1930s, say, continued to write all the way up into the 1980s, which is certainly after most authors would agree that the Golden Age had ended long ago. Consider the case of Ngaio Marsh. The first of her 32 mysteries was published in 1934, her last in 1982. Her books, featuring Scotland Yard's Roderick Alleyn, continue to entertain readers with the kind of Golden Age mystery plots made popular by so many authors. I suspect most readers would not hesitate to include her on a list of the most influential (and widely read) authors of the period. If you're not familiar with her work, may I recommend Death in a White Tie, a 1938 classic. I did an audio review of that book several years ago on the Classic Mysteries podcast. Here's a transcript of that review, slightly edited:

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In London, it was time for that annual ordeal, the social season – a time when aristocratic young ladies made their first public appearances as debutantes at coming-out parties. In the mid-1930s, among the British upper classes, the season was a time for arranging suitable marriages, and the social events were carefully organized and choreographed – not to mention chaperoned.

And into the gaiety – sometimes forced gaiety, it is true – into that gaiety, something ugly had intruded itself.

“It’s the devil…And of all the filthy crimes, this to my mind is the filthiest.”

Those are the words of Chief Detective Inspector Roderick Alleyn of Scotland Yard. And he is speaking of blackmail. But it wouldn’t be long before that crime was followed by murder. It happens in Death in a White Tie, by Ngaio Marsh.

Marsh is generally regarded as one of the so-called English “crime queens” who wrote during the golden age of detective fiction, generally defined as the period between the first and second world wars. (The others were Agatha Christie, Dorothy L. Sayers and Margery Allingham.) Marsh did continue writing all the way into the 1980s, although many of her best books come out of that Golden Age period.

Among those books, I’d have to include Death in a White Tie, which was first published in 1938. It was the seventh of her books to feature Roderick Alleyn as the detective. By the time of this book, Alleyn had become a Chief Detective Inspector.

Alleyn becomes aware of an apparent blackmail scheme that appears to be aimed against some socially prominent women – people who are “bringing out” their daughters (or other young women) during the annual social season. One of his friends, in fact, comes to Alleyn to tell him about the blackmail, and he agrees to work with the police in trying to uncover the blackmailer.

And then there is a murder. And Alleyn must carry out an investigation in which he will have very deep personal stakes as he tries to track down what would appear to be a blackmailer turned killer.

In general terms, one of Marsh’s strengths in her best novels comes in her ability to sketch characters for the reader – to make us care what happens to the characters. That’s certainly true here; among her suspects, her victim, and her supporting characters, we are given a fascinating variety of people, from the aristocratic families involved in the social functions to some of the seedier hangers-on who may know more than they are willing to tell, particularly about the blackmailing business.

Marsh has a real gift for telling us about her characters with a brief line which will reveal a great deal in very few words. For instance, speaking about one of those hangers-on, she tells us:

“Withers was the sort of man who breathes vulgarity into good clothes.”

About another character, a social secretary, we are told:

“She was steeped in nonentity.”

Marsh is also unrelenting in her portrait of the social scene; most of the action takes place during and immediately after a glittering formal dance. We see not only the bright young people, who are enjoying the party, we also see other young women who are uncomfortable – sometimes painfully so – and who do not fit in easily in these surroundings. And this too plays a significant part in the mystery.

What we have in Death in a White Tie – as is so often the case with Ngaio Marsh’s best novels – is something of a grand comedy of manners mixed with a murder investigation and a touch of blackmail. It is a potent mix. Death in a White Tie has been reprinted by the Felony and Mayhem Press, and I do recommend it to you.

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

 

Next: The Big Midget Murders, by Craig Rice.

 

 

"The Lost Gallows"

Do you enjoy a great "impossible crime story? Love John Dickson Carr's books and stories? Is the name "Henri Bencolin" familiar to you?

A lot of people might answer "yes" to the first two questions and wind up scratching their heads at the third. Henri Bencolin was the name of the first series detective created by John Dickson Carr. His first published novel, It Walks By Night, which appeared in 1930, featured Bencolin (and was reviewed here late last year). Now, Carr's second novel about Bencolin, The Lost Gallows (1931) is being released during the first week of April. It's being re-published by Poisoned Pen Press as part of the British Library Crime Classics series, and the publisher has provided me with a copy for this review. It's the subject of this week's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you can listen to that complete review by clicking here.

The scene is set in London, on a foggy night. In the course of that terrifying night:

• Our detective, Henri Bencolin, and his friend Jeff Marle (who is also our narrator) are nearly run down in the busy streets of London by a limousine apparently being driven by a dead man whose throat has been cut;
• An apparently invisible joker keeps moving a small and rather gruesome toy – a model of a hangman’s gibbet - from place to place, and nobody can see who is doing it – or how;
• That murderer taunts the police – and his victims – by claiming as his own the name “Jack Ketch,” a name once used to hide the identity of a notorious English executioner of the seventeenth century;
• And this Jack Ketch advises police (and others) that he will hang his chosen (and kidnapped) victims on a gallows situated on "Ruination Street"…and that is, apparently, the one lost street that cannot be found on any map of London.

Bencolin is different from Carr's  better-known series detectives, Dr. Gideon Fell and Sir Henry Merrivale. All three specialize - as a general rule - in solving "impossible" crimes. Carr creates an eerie atmosphere of nightmare in almost all his books. But there is more relief to be found in the humor displayed in the Merrivale or Fell mysteries. Bencolin is more somber - and, perhaps, more terrifying. If you don't know Bencolin yet, this is a splendid opportunity to meet him.

"Monday the Rabbi Took Off"

This week, Jews around the world are celebrating the Jewish festival called Pesach - in English, usually, "Passover," the celebration of the biblical Exodus of the Jews from slavery in Egypt. It seems to me as if this would be a good time to consider the merits of one fictional American rabbi who became the protagonist and detective in a very fine series of mysteries in the second half of the twentieth century. Rabbi David Small was the central character in more than a dozen books; I've already reviewed three of them on the Classic Mysteries podcast. Today, I want to look at the fourth book in the series, Monday, the Rabbi Took Off, written in 1972. You are welcome to listen to the complete original audio review by clicking here.

Rabbi Small is the spiritual leader of a small, Conservative (in the religious sense of the term, not political!) synagogue in Massachusetts. Right from the start, he shows himself to be a very good detective, often using precepts of Jewish law to find ways to resolve mysteries - including murder. However, he also finds himself up against some of the lay leaders of the congregation on many issues. 

By the time of Monday the Rabbi Took Off, these irritants had become a major problem for him. As a partial solution, the rabbi decided to ask the synagogue’s board of directors for an unpaid leave of absence. And when the board agreed to give him what he asked for, Rabbi Small decided to travel to Israel for his sabbatical leave, along with his wife and their small son.

This was a busy and restless time in the Middle East. The book was written between two major wars – one in 1968, the other in 1973 – which largely changed the dynamics of Israel’s relations with some of its Arab neighbors. Readers will want to keep that in mind, as we will see Rabbi Small become involved in an investigation of a couple of deadly bombings, an investigation which will involve both Jerusalem’s police and the Shin Bet, Israel’s internal secret service. That investigation will draw Rabbi Small in, as he finds himself defending the college-student son of a friend. He also finds himself wondering if he and his family would be better off by staying in Jerusalem than by going back to the constant bickering that seemed to be a way in life at his Massachusetts synagogue.

As with the other books about Rabbi Small, Monday, the Rabbi Took Off manages to combine a good, moving mystery plot with some useful explanations about Judaism and some of the precepts involved and rituals observed. In that regard, this book is very much like the ones that preceded it in the series, and I’m looking forward to reading more of them.

"The Case of Sir Adam Braid"

Sir Adam Braid was...well, I guess "peeved" would cover it. He was also quite nasty, and the only person who bore him any good will at all in his family was his granddaughter - and now he was busily writing a letter to his solicitors telling them to cut that granddaughter, Jill Braid, out of his will.

Unfortunately - or fortunately - Sir Adam never got to finish writing that letter. Somebody stabbed the old miser to death. Police clearly believed that Jill Braid had a pretty good motive. So it was fortunate that the policeman in charge of the case, Chief Detective-Inspector Fenn, knew Jill and didn't believe that the obvious and easy solution to the mystery was to arrest the young woman for murder. No, as he would quickly learn, there were a pretty fair number of people with a reason to dislike Sir Adam Braid - more than enough to make solving the murder a real challenge.

It's the story told in The Case of Sir Adam Braid, by Molly Thynne, a fine Golden Age mystery, originally published in 1930. It's the subject of this week's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you are welcome to listen to the complete review by clicking here.

Score another "find" for Dean Street Press. "Molly Thynne" was another Golden Age authors who sank into what appears to be unwarranted obscurity once the age had ended. According to mystery historian Curtis Evans, who has contributed an excellent introduction to this new  edition of The Case of Adam Braid, Molly Thynne was a member of Britain’s upper classes. She wrote just six mystery novels in her lifetime, all between 1928 and 1933, (along with one previous novel which was not a mystery). I’ve read and enjoyed several of them that Dean Street Press has published.. After 1933, it appears that she simply stopped writing, which seems a pity. The Case of Sir Adam Braid is a solid, well-written mystery. It’s definitely worth your reading time.

 

From the Vault: "Night Walk"

I guess one of the reasons why I enjoy Elizabeth Daly's stories so much is her ability to surprise me every time I read or re-read one of her books. Daly wrote sixteen books about her biblio-expert protagonist, Henry Gamadge, and they're full of surprises that can take a reader's breath away. Her gifts at the art of misdirection were matched by few other authors - yet she generally does "play fair" with those readers. That's probably why she's frequently said to have been Agatha Christie's favorite American author. Here's one of her books which I first reviewed in an audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast several years ago. The book is Night Walk, first published in 1947. It's been lightly edited, mostly to update the availability of her books:

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The village of Frazer’s Mills, New York, was one of those quiet, sleepy little towns where everyone knows everyone else’s business…where most of the people still lived in the same house where they were born and would never dream of moving…the kind of place where people generally didn’t bother about locking their doors at night.

That changed after a hot August night in 1946…the night somebody walked through the village, along the back trails that ran up into the woods behind the houses. The walker stopped at the rest home, rattling Mrs. Norbury’s door – but vanished before she opened it. Next stop was at the public library, where Hattie Bluett was working late…but this time, a locked screen door kept the walker from intruding. At the Bay Horse Tavern, the walker apparently tried to get into old Mr. Compson’s room, but failed – although the stalker did take a fire axe off the wall and left it on the floor outside the room. And then this mysterious person visited the home of the Carrington’s…and this time, there was a murder. It was the kind of thing that nobody in Frazer’s Mills could have expected. And it posed a delicate and dangerous problem for Henry Gamadge, when a friend asked for his help. You can read about it in Night Walk, by Elizabeth Daly.

It says a great deal about the books of Elizabeth Daly to point out that Agatha Christie considered Daly to be her favorite American mystery author. Daly’s books are set in the United States – mostly in and around New York City – and they feature the kind of misdirection and careful plotting that were also hallmarks of Christie’s best books. For those of us senior citizens, it is worth pointing out that she was more than sixty years old when her first book was published, and she went on to write fifteen more in the next dozen years. Daly’s detective was Henry Gamadge, a bibliophile and expert on books and documents, whose specialized knowledge frequently helped him discover and decipher clues that other detectives might have missed.

Night Walk was Daly’s twelfth book in the series. This time, the action takes place in that tiny village of Frazer’s Mills, when a homeowner is murdered, apparently by a prowler who had earlier tried to gain access to several homes and other buildings in the town. Is there some lunatic, perhaps hiding out in the woods that surround the town? What possible link could there be among the people living or working in the places where the night stalker had tried to enter? The entire town finds itself under a cloud of suspicion. One of the possible suspects – a young man visiting the town – asks a friend of a friend for help…and Henry Gamadge arrives in town. It doesn’t take very long for him to form some theories about the goings-on – but he may not be able to prevent a determined killer from striking again.

Henry Gamadge is one of my favorite detectives, and Elizabeth Daly’s books are fine examples of the well-crafted puzzle mystery. In addition, Daly has a good eye and ear for the places where she sets her books. She presents us with characters whom we will care about as well; we get a very good idea of what life is like for the residents of this tiny village – and we will see how difficult it is for someone to escape its confines. That’s particularly true, I think, of the first several chapters, when we follow that unknown prowler, walking through the town, frightening the villagers in a series of encounters and incidents that will ultimately end in murder.

The Felony and Mayhem Press has reprinted [all 16] of Daly’s novels. Night Walk isn’t my favorite Daly book – I’d still have to go with that marvelous novel, The Book of the Dead – but it is still remarkably fine. I think you would enjoy it.

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You are welcome to listen to the original audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast by clicking here.

Next: Death in a White Tie, by Ngaio Marsh.

"A Key to Death"

<blockquote>

Someone knocked on the office door. Bill Weigand said, "Come in, sergeant." Sergeant Mullins came in.

Mullins said, "This. In his desk."

He held "this" out. It was a key to a Yale lock. It was like any other key, except that it was made of gold.

Bill Weigand looked at it. He put it down on the desk. It glowed there in the light from the desk lamp.

"Thought you'd want to see it, captain," Mullins said. Who'd want a gold key?

Well, it turns out there was something of a history attached to that solid-gold key. And knowing that history would eventually help Lieutenant Bill Weigand - oops, I beg your pardon - , make that Acting Captain William Weigand, Homicide Squad, Manhattan West - uncover the truth about the murder of a lawyer named Forbes Ingraham. Of course, as was often the case, Bill was helped by Pam and Jerry North - or, more formally, Mr. and Mrs. North The full story may be found in A Key to Death, written in 1954 by Frances and Richard Lockridge. It was the 19th in a series of 26 novels about Mr. and Mrs. North, a wildly popular husband-and-wife team, who appeared not only in books but also on radio, in movies, and on television. As a general rule, Bill Weigand actually did most of the detecting, but the Norths - Pam in particular - played critical roles in uncovering the truth about these mysteries. A Key to Death is the subject of today's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you're welcome to listen to the complete review by clicking here.

The Norths always seemed to have a talent for discovering – or finding other ways to become involved in – murder cases. This time, it’s strictly accidental: the Norths have gone to see Forbes Ingraham about drawing up their wills, only to discover that he has been shot, and Bill Weigand, put in charge of solving the murder. It begins when Pam and Jerry arrive for their meeting with  Ingraham, in his office– only to discover that he has been murdered. It’s worth noting that in this novel, as in most of the books in the series, Weigand does nearly all the investigating. But Pam North, whose reliance on intuition frequently leads the police to an understanding of the killer’s peculiarities, provides some of the key clues to the solution.

There are hints about labor unrest – an area which Forbes Ingraham had been working on, much to the distaste of some union leaders. But there are also more personal motives to be found in the possible relationships among some members of the law firm. There are also a few cleverly placed observations from Pam North that will move the plot in a surprising new direction in search of a definitive clue. And that may bring us back to that key....

If you enjoy these mysteries featuring the Norths, you are more than likely to enjoy A Key to Death, by Frances and Richard Lockridge.

From the Vault: "Man of Two Tribes"

We've gone halfway around the world for this week's guest detective from the Classic Mysteries Vault. He is Detective Inspector Napoleon Bonaparte, of the police in Queensland, Australia. His friends call him Bony, and he'll quickly invite you to call him by that name as well. He comes from two proud lineages - his Aborigine mother died when he was born; his White father was unknown. But Bony's heritage - his advantages - comes from both races. And he uses those advantages brilliantly in the series of books written by Arthur Upfield. His books seem to be readily available, at least at the moment. Why should you read about him? I thought you'd never ask. Here's a transcript of my audio review of one of the best Bony books, Man of Two Tribes, slightly edited for time references and clarity:

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The Nullarbor Plain of South Australia is so vast a wasteland, so flat and unrelenting, that the train line runs across that flat plain for hundreds of miles in a straight line without so much as a curve or an angle to break the monotony. Somewhere along that straight line of track, a woman stepped off the train one night – and vanished. An exhaustive search for miles on each side of the track revealed no trace of her. It wasn’t until several months later than a man got off the train at one of its stops in a tiny town on the plain and began the search anew. The man was Detective Inspector Napoleon Bonaparte, known to his friends and colleagues simply as “Bony,” a man who had never failed to complete an investigation. What he found, in the course of his search, was totally unexpected – and revealed such an enormous secret that even the pursuit and capture of a murderer would become almost secondary. The story is found in Man of Two Tribes, a 1956 mystery by the Australian author, Arthur W. Upfield.

I am both delighted and excited to learn that the estate of Arthur Upfield has begun re-releasing and re-publishing all of Upfield’s books about Bony. If you don’t know the character, Detective Inspector Napoleon Bonaparte of the Queensland police comes from a dual racial lineage – his unknown father was White, his mother, who died when he was born, was Aborigine. In Bony, Upfield created a character with the best of both heritages – an appreciation for western traits but an incredible inheritance of Aborigine skills which gave him an enormous advantage in uncovering clues and tracks too slender for most investigators to find. It is that dual heritage which gives this book its title, Man of Two Tribes.

The book begins with the disappearance of Myra Thomas, who apparently either fell from the train or walked off at one of its stops – either way, she had vanished completely. Myra Thomas was accused of having murdered her husband – but she was acquitted at her trial. Now she has disappeared.

Nearly six months later, Bony arrives on the scene. There is some concern among his superiors about espionage, because there are experiments with nuclear weapons going on in the area, and the government security people want to know if Myra Thomas might have been involved in some sort of spying.

So Bony sets out to try to track her across the enormous and dangerous plain. He is puzzled by what appear to be efforts to throw him off the trail – to send him searching in the wrong direction. But when he eventually does find out what has happened…well, that introduces some elements that even Bony had not expected. That includes a murder, of course, and a group of possible suspects – all of whom had murdered someone earlier in their lives. And, ultimately, Bony will have to help them all escape and make their way – on foot – across literally hundreds of miles of the Nullarbor Plain…and the Plain itself may be the greatest threat to their survival and their sanity.

Man of Two Tribes is one of my favorite Bony stories. It allows the character to show off many of his unique skills. It turns the vast wasteland of the Plain into a character in its own right – I don’t mean that literally, but I mean that the setting is such an integral part of the story that you will recognize the Plain itself as a dangerous enemy to be feared.

I am delighted that E-T-T imprint – which consists of Arthur Upfield’s heirs and controls his literary rights – has decided at last to re-release all of the Bony novels as e-books in a variety of formats. They have been unavailable for far too long. Some readers with 21^st century attitudes profess to be shocked by Upfield’s 20^th century literary treatment of a character who is half-Aborigine, but Bony is an outstanding hero to almost all whom he meets and a role model indeed. I recommend all the books highly – and Man of Two Tribes is among the best.

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You can listen to the complete original audio review from the Classic Mysteries podcast by clicking here:

Next: Night Walk, by Elizabeth Daly.

"Helen Passes By"

Newly minted as a Deputy Assistant Commissioner of Scotland Yard, Bobby Owen was not at all happy about the direction (or directions) in which his murder case seemed to be moving:

“This isn’t a murder case,” Bobby reflected grimly; “it’s just a psychological problem where none of the ordinary principles apply. And how the dickens am I going to find the answer?” 

Indeed, there were a great many seemingly extraneous happenings associated with this murder case. There was a murder, to be sure. There were reports of missing boats and/or missing people. Virtually every step taken by Bobby Owen towards a solution appeared to end up on a byway as an irrelevant clue. There was a distinctly hostile wave of public opinion that believed members of an aristocratic family were avoiding arrest and quite possibly exploiting their own privilege (with a local Chief Constable who believed it was simply impossible for an aristocrat to be a murderer). And then there was Helen, who, like her mythological namesake, was said to be so lovely that every male who sees her instantly falls head over heels in love with her. And that could spell a motive for murder. Details will be found in the book Helen Passes By, written in 1947 by E. R. Punshon, his 23^rd novel to feature Bobby Owen as his principal detective. It's the subject of this week's audio review on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you are welcome to listen to that complete review by clicking here.

British class politics play an important role in Helen Passes By, with working men on one side and aristocrats on the other, but Bobby, wasn’t having any of it. Bobby (who detested politics and politicians) kept following up leads – and discovering more dead ends, not least among them, his apparent inability to interview the mysterious and beautiful Helen Adour. Clearly he needed to question everyone who might have been involved in the murder – and that would include the fantastically lovely Helen, daughter of the local lord. Only somehow he kept missing her. Or he’d try to meet her and find she was eluding him quite successfully. Does Helen hold the key to the mystery?

You’ll enjoy finding out. This new edition of E.R. Punshon’s Helen Passes By from Dean Street Press also features an interesting and entertaining introduction by mystery historian Curtis Evans.

 

"The Mystery of the Blue Train"

Do you remember when Hercule Poirot took a luxury train ride across France - and wound up having to investigate a murder?

No, I'm not talking about Murder on the Orient Express, often cited by Christie fans as being among their favorites.

I'm talking about a book Agatha Christie wrote several years earlier, when she put Poirot - and a surprisingly large number of other passengers - on board the luxury train known as The Blue Train. Agatha Christie used to say that she hated The Mystery of the Blue Train, written in 1928, six years before Murder on the Orient Express. And while I hate to disagree with Agatha Christie, I would argue that it's a pretty good book on its own. It's the subject of my audio review today on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you are welcome to listen to the complete review by clicking here.

The story of the blue train begins in Paris, where we witness the clandestine sale of a fabulous ruby known as the “Heart of Fire” to a very wealthy American businessman who buys it as a gift for his daughter. That daughter is trapped in a bad marriage – remember, this is 1928 when divorce was much more difficult – and she is seeking a divorce from her husband while also planning to run away with a self-styled nobleman who, we are assured, is a fraud.

And there are other passengers too – each with their own secrets. Many of these people will wind up in the carriages of the Blue Train, headed for the Riviera. So will Hercule Poirot. And – very quickly – there will be a murder. And that magnificent ruby, the “Heart of Fire,” will disappear. Poirot, on the scene, is invited to take a hand in sorting out the case.

 If it sounds like an early thriller, jewel thefts, murder, adulteries and all, why yes – that’s exactly what it is – but it is also an Agatha Christie mystery, and the reader would be wise to keep that in mind. The Mystery of the Blue Train may not be on anyone’s list for the best Christie novel ever, but it is more enjoyable, and a better mystery than Christie thought it was. Give it a try.

"The Laughing Dog"

It was a most unusual drawing. It was a portrait, apparently of a dog, drawn by a street artist in Algiers. It was supposed to be a brief portrait of the person who was sitting for the artist - in this case, a caricature of Doctor Hugh Challoner, who had encountered the artist, Aubrey Highton, while on vacation in Algiers. What made the portrait so unusual was that the image of the dog appeared to be laughing. At the artist? At Dr. Challoner? It's hard to be sure.

And Dr. Challoner – who appeared to be both angry and more than a little upset by the strange portrait – nevertheless agrees to help Highton find a job as a commercial artist back home in England.  It isn’t long before Dr. Challoner is home in the town of Sturton Lacy, and Highton is living in a hotel very close to the doctor’s office.

And the next time we shall hear about Dr. Challoner, he is dead, his strangled body found in his own office in Sturton Lacy. When the body is found, police quickly find what appears to be a copy of that unusual caricature.

Is there a connection here? You'll find out in The Laughing Dog, a 1948 mystery by Francis Vivian. It's the subject of my audio review this week on the Classic Mysteries podcast, and you can listen to the complete review (at no cost) by clicking here.

“Francis Vivian” was the pen name used by a British journalist named Arthur Ernest Ashley. As Vivian he wrote some 18 mysteries, about half of which featured Detective Inspector Gordon Knollis as the primary investigator of the mystery. In The Laughing Dog, Inspector Knollis is sent by Scotland Yard to look into the peculiar murder of Doctor Challoner. There are several points of interest: first, there would seem to be only a small number of people who could have committed the murder – yet among those people, it would appear that none could have had anything like an adequate motive for murder. It is in the course of Knollis's investigation that they discover the caricature of the laughing dog, found in a diary kept by Doctor Challoner. But if this is a clue…a clue against whom? The Laughing Dog provides us with a well-told tale, with some nice twists along the way to a solution. I do think that you’ll enjoy it.