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Book review: CRIMSON SNOW (2016) edited by Martin Edwards

12/29/2016

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The recent series of Golden Age mystery story anthologies made available to U.S. readers by Poisoned Pen Press has been a delight for classic crime fiction fans like me. Editor and scholar Martin Edwards has a gift for finding and presenting unjustly neglected tales by (often) lesser-known authors, and with Crimson Snow, a collection of stories that explore wintertime crime, there are many great discoveries to entertain a new generation of readers.

Personally, I’m most impressed with how several selections have made me set aside pre-judgements and view authors in an admirably new light. For example, the second tale presented is “The Chopham Affair” by one-man writing machine Edgar Wallace, best known for his formidable output of crime thrillers.


But the story here, which follows a gigolo and blackmailer who overplays his hand, unfolds with wit and ironical humor, and finds time to question the concept of murder as moral justification. Also viewed differently than from his role as a last-word genre critic is Julian Symons, whose “The Santa Claus Club” provides detective Francis Quarles with an invisible weapon puzzle straight out of the Golden Age style Symons sometimes dismissed.

Another sublime benefit to a themed anthology such as this one lies in observing how each author uses the trappings of the season to enhance the plot. (Some are clearly more active to seize this possibility than others.) While Symons’ group of philanthropists doesn’t technically need to dress as a gaggle of St. Nicks, the visual image in his story carries some charm. Margery Allingham’s revealingly titled “The Man with the Sack” connects the holiday costume with criminal intent, while Christopher Bush’s slight entry “Murder for Christmas” provides his sleuth Ludovic Travers with a clue hinging on some absent seasonal décor. And both Michael Gilbert and Josephine Bell use Christmas carollers as potential witnesses to crime or, in Bell’s poignant character study-turned-police-procedural, as a cover for more sinister intentions.

There are a few stories that I felt were less successful than their brethren, including a brief Holmes and Watson stage play script by S.C. Roberts entitled, rather generically, “Christmas Eve.” In it, Holmes must unravel a young woman’s story about missing jewels at a manor house, and this he does immediately, leaving scant room for characterization or plot development. And while I’m grateful to be introduced to Victor Gunn’s gruff but perceptive Chief Inspector Bill “Ironsides” Cromwell – who is a bit of a prototype for Reginald Hill’s Andy Dalziel – Gunn’s 1943 tale “Death in December” doesn’t need its novella length to relate the story of a man scared half to death by the appearance of a ghostly (or was it real?) corpse. It also suffers when compared to the anthology’s first story, “The Ghost’s Touch” by Fergus Hume, which covers similar ground to better effect in half the time.

For me, the highlight of Crimson Snow is its other lengthy entry, and one shaped by Macdonald Hastings for Liliput magazine as a challenge-to-the-reader contest. “Mr. Cork’s Secret” finds bloodhound-like insurance investigator Montague Cork looking into the brutal death of a jeweler and the disappearance of Alouette’s Worms, a set of gemstones that was to be the wedding present for a celebrity couple. Hastings – another author I had known about but never read – uses his novella’s pages to propel a detailed story with some compelling twists and turns, and, delightfully, the two reader-submitted solutions provided are even more cleverly constructed in style (one takes the form of a telegram to a reporter character, the other a memorandum for Cork’s insurance company colleagues) than that which the author delivers!

Congratulations to Martin Edwards and the British Library Crime Classics imprint for putting together, snowman-like, another winning anthology. Crimson Snow is available now in the UK, and will be available in print and e-book editions within the U.S. on January 3, 2017. It’s a delightful way for mystery fans to celebrate the New Year. I received an advance e-copy through Poisoned Pen Press via NetGalley in exchange for an honest review.

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Book Review: TWICE DEAD (1960) by John Rhode

12/21/2016

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Appearing in the U.S. as a Red Badge Detective title in 1960, Twice Dead is one of the last mysteries penned by prolific writer John Rhode (the pseudonym of Cecil John Charles Street, who also published dozens of books under the name Miles Burton). It is a solid and straightforward tale, and once again Superintendent Jimmy Waghorn investigates a suspicious death, checking in with the sedentary and terse Dr. Priestley for consultation.

The slightly hypochondriacal Sir Francis Yordale has stumbled upon a creative method to test the loyalty of his would-be heirs: he places his own death notification in The Times and waits to gauge the response of his relations. The result is wreaths (nearly) all around, although the quality and expense vary between senders, a fact which Sir Francis is pleased to note.


Once the initial confusion of the exaggerated demise has been cleared up, Sir Francis drafts his will accordingly. Soon, the man is found dead in his study by handyman Ribble, who alerts Ethel Shirland, Sir Francis’s devoted housekeeper. Inspector Kemsing calls in Waghorn of the Metropolitan Police, and tests conclude that Sir Francis has died of carbon monoxide poisoning. But how? Windows and door were closed the night that the death occurred, and there was a fire in the hearth, which had gone out before the body was found in the morning.

As Jimmy looks into this puzzle with the help of Dr. Priestley and his apprentice Harold Merefield, the suspects descend to hear the will read. Surprisingly, the chief beneficiaries are not Sir Francis’s estranged brothers and sisters, but instead his godson George Pawlett – who had been living in Australia before the fake death notice brought him back to Uplands – and housekeeper Ethel Shirland inherit the lion’s share of the estate. This does not sit well with Edgar Yordale, the natural successor (and a man who had conceitedly adopted the baronetcy’s title upon learning of the false report of his brother’s death). Charles, Jane, and Mary Yordale seem to take the news more pacifically, although they may be harboring a secret grudge.

An attempt on (the now Sir) Edgar’s life focuses suspicion on family outsider George Pawlett. He was staying in the house the night of Sir Francis’s murder, and he could reasonably lose his claim to inheritance if Sir Edgar contests the will, which he had threatened to do. When Sir Edgar is shot at with an antique pistol on the street one foggy night, Jimmy feels like the case against Pawlett is overwhelming: the pistol was part of a set at Uplands, and the unfortunate Australian had access to it while he stayed with his godfather. But Dr. Priestley cautions his police friend not to reject other possibilities, and soon another scenario suggests itself to Jimmy Waghorn (and one that the reader has likely arrived at well before the Superintendent has).

The John Rhode and Miles Burton books are undeniably steady, solid representatives of the Golden Age Detective fiction genre. For me, their strengths also contain the thread of their inherent weaknesses: they are precisely plotted affairs, with the detective focused exclusively on solving and explaining the mystery puzzle at the center of the story; the characters/suspects act strictly within the confines and expectations of the genre; the plots are meticulously fair-play; and the whole reading experience offers the welcome familiarity of company with a likeable but predictable friend. (With society’s shift from active reading to passive viewing, binge-watching television shows have supplanted for many the “comfort” that returning to the rhythms of a reliable fiction genre used to provide.)

Over the years, I have read my share of the Rhode/Burton books, and they are always agreeable but never revelatory… but who is asking for a detective story to deliver artistic revelations and thematic illuminations which are the presumed components of Great Literature? Would they not just get in the way? Part of the charm of classic British mystery is the recognition of familiar elements, from plot to characterization to its justice-will-prevail theme.

Twice Dead benefits from a mischievous murder victim and a clever murder method, admirable in its simplicity. Still, the delivery of the story, from its practical, unremarkable prose to its deliberate pacing, leaves me a little restless for something more from a mystery, whether it’s Margery Allingham’s quirky penchant for description or Anthony Berkeley’s sharp thematic irony or Agatha Christie’s flair for misdirection. Perhaps that is unfair to John Rhode, a reliable tradesman in this field, and especially unfair as a criticism of Twice Dead, which is an agreeable book far better than the late-period entries produced by some authors. But ultimately it’s the reason why I don’t come rushing back to the Rhode/Burton canon with the same devotion that I show for the books of Gladys Mitchell or Nicolas Freeling, eager for more: I know with each outing what I’ll be getting and where I’ll be going, and sometimes that’s the less exciting Rhode – er, road – to travel down.

Thanks yet again to Rich at Past Offences for suggesting a new year of detective fiction each month to explore; this time it was 1960. Check out the Crimes of the Century section for some spirited community criticism and classic crime suggestions!

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    Lots of book reviews and discussion of classic and contemporary mystery fiction. I welcome comments and continuing conversation.

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