JACK FOXX – Wildfire.   Bobbs-Merrill, hardcover, 1978. Reworked and republished as Firewind, as by Bill Pronzini: M. Evans, hardcover, 1989; paperback reprint: Ballantine, 1990.

   Very nice review of Wildfire, which I missed seeing when it first appeared; I’m pleased that you found it to be a suspenseful read. Firewind is a reworking of Wildfire, but not merely a reissue under a different title.

   Although the basic storyline and general progression are similar in both versions, Wildfire has a contemporary setting and Firewind a historical one, and the characters and their motives and interactions are different.

   I wasn’t satisfied with the way Wildfire turned out, but it wasn’t until a few years after it was published that I realized why: the story works better as a “western” and should have been written as such in the first place.

   So when Sara Ann Freed, who was editing M. Evans’ western line in the late 80s, asked me to do a second book for her (after The Last Days of Horse-Shy Halloran), it gave me an opportunity to transform Wildfire into Firewind. The latter is much the better of the two.

   As to the Jack Foxx name, which you also asked about, I chose it for two reasons. The minor is that it’s short and punchy, both surname and given name just four letters; the major is that I’ve always considered the letter “X” something of a lucky talisman.

   Long-time readers of my work might note that I often give characters names containing an “x”.

   Pronzini’s “X” file. One of my many quirks, on and off the printed page.

   A couple of weeks ago, I posted an inquiry on the behalf of Charles Seper, who was looking for a photo of mystery writer Philip MacDonald.

   He had only a small one at the time, and Juergen Lull found another small one that he sent me, which I posted here.

   But from the back cover of the Doubleday edition of The List of Adrian Messenger, Charles was able to obtain what he was looking for, a large photograph of Mr MacDonald that he could use as part of a project he’s working on.

   I’m grateful to him for sending it along. I was sure I’d seen one somewhere over the years. I’m not sure that this is the one I remember, but if it’s not, it’s close:

   John Herrington sent me the following inquiry several days before my computer mishap. Here it is online at last:

    “I have spent some time trying to trace Bridget Yva Benediall who is in CF for one 1915 title (wrote three others before 1921). But the surname has failed to surface in a search of Ancestry and other databases. Could you possibly mention her, in case the name does mean something to someone?”

   From the Revised Crime Fiction IV, by Allen J. Hubin, here’s her full entry there:

BENEDIALL, BRIDGET YVA
     -Blind Sight (Mills, 1915, hc) Dodd, 1915.

   One online bookseller calls the book “a romantic detective story, listed in Hubin, Benediall also wrote Child Lover; Jeremy’s Love Story; The Pilgrim and Pamela…”

   Google has put a digital copy of Blind Sight online, in case you’d like to read it. (Note that the hyphen before the title in Hubin means either marginal or an unknown amount of criminous content.)

   And this — far too little, I’m sorry to say — sums up all I know about the lady.

   It’s a little strange, since he was a very popular mystery writer in his day, but so far only one other photograph of Philip MacDonald has turned up. (Here’s a link to the earlier inquiry.) This one arrived during this past hiatus, thanks to Juergen Lull in Germany:

      Hi Steve,

   You’ll probably have a better photo of Philip MacDonald by now. Anyway, this one is from the back of a Penguin of 1955 (X v. Rex).

         Regards,

            Juergen

   I’ve received this inquiry in this afternoon’s email. I’m sure I’ve seen a photo of Philip MacDonald on one of his book jackets, but so far I haven’t come across it. I found this one on the Internet, but this is the one that Charles already has. Anyone else?

   My name is Charles Seper, and I’m currently working on a film documentary of Philip MacDonald’s author grandfather — George MacDonald. I intend to make mention of Philip in the movie also.

   My problem is finding a good photograph of him. The only one I’ve managed to procure thus far is very small and of poor quality. Do you by any chance know of any?

   Philip was often asked to speak at various Hollywood functions, so I know there must be a good photo of him somewhere. I also know he wrote many books that I haven’t yet read, so I thought perhaps you might have one which has a picture of the author on the cover.

    If you have any idea where I might find a photo I would much appreciate it.

         Sincerely,

           Charles Seper

   This will take a bit of an explanation, so bear with me.

   Around the turn of last century, a relatively well-known mystery writer named Lawrence L. Lynch had quite a few books published. Some of them were reprinted later as by Emma Murdoch Van Deventer, and as John Herrington says, “At some time someone was able to match Lynch to Van Deventer [as to being the real name of the author], the connection being lost in the mists of time.”

   The only problem is, no one has been able to find a real person having Van Deventer’s name, including John, and he’s been looking. He says, in part, “There are a few Emma Van Deventers on Ancestry.com, but Murdoch does not feature as part of any of these names.”

   I’ll reprint all of Lynch’s entry in Crime Fiction IV, by Allen J. Hubin, just for completeness, but the actual request is, if you know or can come up with any information about either Lawrence L. Lynch or Emma Murdoch Vandeventer, please leave a comment or drop me a line.

LYNCH, LAWRENCE L.  Pseudonym of Emma Murdoch Van Deventer.   [Note: There seem to be no books that appeared under the latter’s name only.]   Except for two which apparently were never published in the US, these are the US titles only. All but one were reprinted in the UK by Ward Lock, including those as by Van Deventer, indicated by EMVD.

      Shadowed by Three (n.) Donnelly 1879 [Neil Bathurst; Frank Ferrars]
      The Diamond Coterie (n.) Connelley 1884 [Neil Bathurst]
      Madeline Payne, the Detective’s Daughter (n.) Loyd 1884 [Madeline Payne]    EMVD
      Dangerous Ground; or, The Rival Detectives (n.) Loyd 1885 [Van Vernet]
      Out of a Labyrinth (n.) Loyd 1885 [Neil Bathurst]
      A Mountain Mystery; or, The Outlaws of the Rockies (n.) Loyd 1886 [Van Vernet; U.S. West]
      The Lost Witness; or, The Mystery of Leah Paget (n.) Laird 1890 [New York City, NY]
      Moina; or, Against the Mighty (n.) Laird 1891 [Madeline Payne]

      A Slender Clue; or, The Mystery of Mardi Gras (n.) Laird 1891    EMVD

      A Dead Man’s Step (n.) Rand McNally 1893    EMVD
      Against Odds (n.) Rand McNally 1894 [Carl Masters; Chicago, IL]    EMVD

      No Proof (n.) Rand McNally 1895 [Chicago, IL]    EMVD

      The Last Stroke (n.) Laird 1896 [Frank Ferrars; Illinois]
      The Unseen Hand (n.) Laird 1898    EMVD
      High Stakes (n.) Laird 1899
      Under Fate’s Wheel (n.) Laird 1901    EMVD
      The Woman Who Dared (n.) Laird 1902
      The Danger Line (n.) Ward 1903 [New York City, NY]
      A Woman’s Tragedy; or, The Detective’s Task (n.) Ward 1904 [Carl Masters; Wyoming]
      The Doverfields’ Diamonds (n.) Laird 1906    EMVD
      Man and Master (n.) Laird 1908 [Carl Masters]
      A Sealed Verdict (n.) Long 1910 [Chicago, IL] No UK edition.
      A Blind Lead (n.) Laird 1912    EMVD

   Notes: Titles with links can be found as etexts online. [See the comments for a list of five more.]

   In case you missed it, there’s been a good deal of discussion in the comments following Mike Nevins’ most recent column about the possibility that Jack Vance wrote all, most or some of Ellery Queen’s Face to Face (NAL, 1967).

   Mike Doran asked the question, but the possibility was first raised by George Kelley on his blog, which I recommend to you for all sorts of good reasons, including not only sound and solid discussion of books and music of all kinds, but for an abundance of cover art as well.

   My own opinion regarding Face to Face, though, after reading all of the arguments, pro and con? George presents a good but non-conclusive case, but the door’s hardly closed on the matter. The possibility’s still there.

    Aarons is another underappreciated writer who wrote clean uncluttered prose and knew his way around plot and character. The best of the Durell books are superior examples of their field and still hold up today even if the politics have left them behind.

    I do have a question, though likely no one can answer it. The familiar portrait of Durell featured originally on the front covers and later on the back looked nothing at all like the lean black haired black eyed character known as the “Cajun” who I always pictured as a cross between Dale Robertson and Zachary Scott.

    Gold Medal’s other series icons all looked a good deal like the characters within — Matt Helm, Joe Gall, Shell Scott, Travis McGee, Chester Drum, even Earl Drake’s “Man with No Face” — but Aaron’s “Cajun” was this blonde pale eyed guy in a fedora, and as late as 1962’s Assignment Karachi Durell is portrayed on the cover as a blonde.

    I think the original portrait is by Barye Phillips who did most of the early Aarons covers and Karachi looks like it might be the work of Harry Bennett.

    You would think in all the years the series ran and considering it always had steady sales that someone would have noticed the cover portrait was nothing like the character described in the book. Anyone know what was going on?

          >>>>

    Steve again. David and I have been batting this question around for a while, each providing the other with cover images. My problem with his question is that when I think of blond (or blonde), I think of Marilyn Monroe.

    Obviously there are different shades of blond, including very light browns, but I think that there always has to be some yellow in it before hair can be considered blond. I just didn’t remember ever seeing Sam Durell with hair that fit what David was saying.

    What’s more, when I came across one of the covers that David specifically referred to, Durell’s hair looked dark brown if not black, and nothing like blond to me. See above.

    But David then supplied me with a closer look at the cover of Gold Medal GM k1505, which is not the 1962 printing above, but one that would have come out in 1964 or ’65 . See below:

    It’s out of focus and lighter than the image I’d found, but yes, this time I saw what David was talking about. He’s not as blond as the lady standing next to him, but there are blond highlights in his light brown hair I hadn’t seen before. In any case, if the question was phrased as “Does Durell look like a dark-haired Cajun in this picture?” I’d have to agree that he does not.

    I challenged David’s suggestion that the painting was done by Harry Bennett. I disagreed, seeing nothing of the latter’s stylized art in the cover, and suggested Ron Lesser instead. David agreed, saying “You are likely right about Lesser. As you said, Bennett usually signed his work. I thought of him because he did a lot of work for Fawcett and the background looked like his work.”

    Here is the second cover that David sent me, one of the ones he believed was done by Barye Phillips:

    I agree that Phillips is likely the artist. With the hat on the fellow whose face is at the top, though, it is difficult to determine what color is hair is, except that it is not black, more likely brown, and to me he looks more like an Irish pug than a dark-haired Cajun.

    The one in the cover scene itself David calls “a fair-haired pale-eyed ‘Cajun’,” and he continues: “I’m curious if this was an editorial decision, an attempt to make him look more like Shell Scott, or just an artist’s interpretation that the editors and Aarons never bothered to correct. The novels describe Durrell as dark with black hair and eyes, a bit over six feet tall and lean, and resembling a Mississippi river boat gambler.”

    To end the discussion between David and me, but to open it up to others to jump in if they wish, here’s a cover, probably published in the late 1970s or even the 80s, in which Durell, to me, finally looks something like the author, Edward S. Aarons, might actually had in mind:

    The cover was obviously done by Robert McGinnis, but whether he did the small insert close-up of Sam Durell, I’m not sure. I’d need a closer look to be positive. Whoever it was, I think he finally got it right.

   Here’s David again. It’s his question, and he deserves the last word:

    “No doubt you are right about the question not getting answered, I just thought I would put it out there and hope one of the Gold Medal experts might have an idea. I can’t think of another series where the covers consistently went out of their way to portray the character as looking almost completely different than the one described in the book.”

From today’s emails:

    Hi, I have a query….Hope you may be able to help me out… On which Edgar Wallace story / novel was the 1960 Vernon Sewell movie The Man in the Back Seat based? I would appreciate any responses. Thanks. Regards, Ashish Pandey.

Me again:

    No online resource seems to say. Or to clarify, Edgar Wallace is always given as the author, but the name of the specific short story or novel the 1961 film’s based on is never stated. It was part of a series of 46 films entitled The Edgar Wallace Mysteries produced by Merton Park Productions.

    From http://www.britmovie.co.uk/, here’s a list of the cast members along with the longest recap of the storyline that I’ve found anywhere, in case anyone recognizes it. The director was Vernon Sewell. And believe it or not, I’ve even found a photo from the film that I can show you, but — nothing more re Wallace.

   Derren Nesbitt – Tony
   Keith Faulkner – Frank
   Carol White – Jean
   Harry Locke – Joe Carter

Plot Synopsis

   Taut B-movie adapted from an Edgar Wallace mystery with an intriguing premise that’s ingeniously executed by director Vernon Sewell. Sewell outdoes himself with this well-plotted and haunting story of two incompetent crooks and an unwanted passenger which obviously has its roots in the Banquo’s ghost segment of Macbeth.

   Two youthful crooks, cold-hearted Tony (Darren Nesbitt) and his compliant best mate Frank (Keith Faulkner), try to rob bookie Joe Carter (Harry Locke) as he is leaving the dog track with his daily winnings. Unfortunately, the two discover that he’s chained the case to his wrist and consequently they are forced to take him along with them as they try to find a way to salvage the money. They drive through the London night looking for an opportunity to break the chain but wind up back at Frank’s house – much to the chagrin of his nagging wife Jean (Carol White). Having beaten the bookie unconscious, the pair douse him in alcohol and dump him near a hospital in the expectation of a passer-by discovering him, but the pair have to retrieve the lifeless bookie when they realise they’ve left fingerprints behind. They return to Jean’s with the body, where a neighbouring back-street doctor declares the bookie practically dead, Tony and Frank drive north to Birmingham to dispose of the body, but on the North Circular the pair encounter a eerie experience.

    In reply to Bill Pronzini’s post on Stephen Marlowe at the the time of his death, David L. Vineyard said —

   To which Monica responded and asked the following questions:

   To which David has responded —

   The following email from Monica closed the discussion, at least for now —