#10. OSCAR VAN DUYVEN & PIERRE LEMASSE, by Robert Brennan.

   Oscar van Duyven & Pierre Lemasse appeared in a short series of ten stories by Robert Brennan that were published in Flynn’s Weekly Detective Fiction between 1926 and 1927. The series involves the adventures of a pair of men who wander the French countryside looking for matters of interest. They usually find mysteries to solve.

   Oscar van Duyven is an American millionaire from New York, owner of an electric fan corporation. Pierre Lemasse is from Paris, France, and is the companion to the millionaire. Lemasse is younger than van Duyven and is the more mystery oriented person. He has a knack of finding clues and matters of interest in the various cases the two are involved in.

   Van Duyven usually goes along with what Lemasse wants, although Lemasse is described as his assistant and is the driver of van Duyven’s automobile.

   In the first story in the series, “The Maltese Cross,” the pair are on the French coast doing nothing in particular when a mystery arises. From an island just off the coast a man escapes from the prison on it, and from a French coast town opposite a wife disappeared the same day. Lemasse finds all sorts of interesting facts and clues about the events, and ties the two disappearances together. Still, a somewhat disappointing debut.

   The second story in the series, “Pierre Rides the Storm,” is a direct sequel of the first story and continues the story of the escaped convict, Bruneau. He is caught in the severe storm that hit the French coast, and van Duyven and Lemasse endeavour to rescue him from the stranded ship in which he tried to make his escape.

   The third story, “A Murderer’s Refuge,” continues the story of Bruneau the escaped convict. This time van Duyven and Lemasse are in Spain, and have brought Bruneau with them in order to ask the local church for sanctuary for him.

   The two men then go to Avignon in France to investigate the crime Bruneau supposedly committed. While there Lemasse quickly solves the case and clears Bruneau. A bit of an anti-climax with the solution literally falling into their laps.

   The fourth story, “The Changeling,” is a new story and self contained without any continuations. The two “investigators” are appealed to for help in locating a missing child. The child not only is missing, but a different child was substituted in his place. Lemasse tracks down the missing child and restores him to his mother.

   The following story is “Blind Lanneau,” which concerns the murder of a blind peddler. The two investigators are still in France. This story is anticlimactic, because Lemasse discovers the murderer early in the story, and a lot of space is taken up by the murderer telling his own story (which includes what happened years before).

   The next story, “The Crooked Star” is a sequel to the previous one. This one involves the two investigators looking for a hidden treasure using a cipher the murderer from the previous story had given them before he died.

   Blind Lanneau, who was mentioned and discussed in the previous story but not seen, shows up in this story to compete with them for the treasure. Some deductions and deciphering of the cipher sheet is performed by the two as the story progresses.

   â€œThe Highwayman” comes next, and is a sequel to the previous one. Having lost the treasure when their boat sank, the two investigators suddenly find themselves the target of a criminal who wants the treasure and thinks they have access to it. Suddenly Blind Lanneau pops up who also wants the treasure and is searching for it.

   â€œThe Little Angels” refers to a French street gang who are extremely vicious. When a newspaper editor named Maurice Duverne writes an editorial against the gang and is immediately attacked, there is public outrage against the gang. The police move in to the district and clean out the gangsters. However, Lemasse is not convinced the gang committed the attack, and induces van Duyven to help him investigate.

   â€œThe Fugitive Footman” is probably the best story in the series. The two investigators come across a man in distress. They agree to help him, learning that the man is Bernard, a footman at the Deauville mansion. Deauville has just been murdered, and the footman is running away because he is accused of the crime.

   The two investigators go to the Deauville mansion, where they find an inspector named Croissart in charge of the case. Croissart is an old friend of theirs, and relates the facts of the case. Lemasse sees more than meets the eye, and deduces the real murderer and the motive.

   â€œTwo Chests of Gold” is a direct sequel to the previous story, and involves the chests that were a part of that story. Now there is a search on for the missing chests, also involving a Scotland Yard man who asks van Duyven and Lemasse for their assistance.

   This is an average series, with some good stories, but mostly average. There is no element of humor in the stories. The series is of interest to those interested in simple detective stories.

   The problem I have with this series is that Lemasse makes all of his deductions and discoveries and clues seem overly simple. There is very little complexity to the series. The closest it comes is the cipher in “The Crooked Star.”

      The Oscar van Duyven & Pierre Lemasse series, by Robert Brennan:

The Maltese Cross     July 31, 1926
Pierre Rides the Storm     August 7, 1926
A Murderer’s Refuge     August 14, 1926
The Changeling     August 21, 1926
Blind Lanneau     September 4, 1926
The Crooked Star     September 11, 1926
The Highwayman     September 18, 1926
The Little Angels     December 18, 1926
The Fugitive Footman     January 1, 1927
Two Chests of Gold     January 15, 1927

    Previously in this series:

1. SHAMUS MAGUIRE, by Stanley Day.
2. HAPPY McGONIGLE, by Paul Allenby.
3. ARTY BEELE, by Ruth & Alexander Wilson.
4. COLIN HAIG, by H. Bedford-Jones.
5. SECRET AGENT GEORGE DEVRITE, by Tom Curry.
6. BATTLE McKIM, by Edward Parrish Ware.
7. TUG NORTON by Edward Parrish Ware.
8. CANDID JONES by Richard Sale.
9. THE PATENT LEATHER KID, by Erle Stanley Gardner.

   As a novice widower I find myself thinking of three other mystery writers who lost wives to Mister Death. The first name that springs to mind in this connection is Raymond Chandler (1888-1959), who was so devastated by the death of his wife Cissie that he tried to shoot himself in his bathroom.

   Being blind drunk at the time, he missed his target. “She was the music heard faintly at the edge of sound…” he said of Cissie. “She was the light of my life, my whole ambition. Anything else I did was just the fire for her to warm her hands at.”

   Next comes Harry Stephen Keeler (1890-1967), whom I never met but have been associated with for most of my life. He married the former Hazel Goodwin in 1919 and they were together until she died of cancer in May 1960.

   During the months of her final illness and after her death he was unable to write fiction, but he continued sending out his off-the-wall “Walter Keyhole” newsletters to just about everyone whose address he had.

   He called them polychromatic or multitinctorial cartularies since each page was printed on paper of a different color. We who have lived into the computer age recognize them as the functional equivalent of a blog. It cost him as much as $50 to have each installment prepared by a professional typing service and mailed out en masse.

   I have originals or photocopies of 188 of these, which a few years ago I organized and offered to a panting public as The Keeler Keyhole Companion (2005). Among the hundreds of topics he touched on was his life as a lonely widower in his early seventies, “a guy who lives on canned Campbell’s soups and canned Sultana pork and beans.”

   Here’s his account of the “long lonely Thanksgiving holiday” in 1962. “We [he often uses the royal we in these cartularies] had our choice of having 3 soft-boiled eggs (only thing we can cook) as a dinner, then seeing the Three Stooges conk each other over the heads [at the local movie house], or of having 3 soft-boiled eggs as a dinner and re-reading Keyser’s Mathematical Philosophy. You guess!”

   I now feel closer to that genuine mad genius than ever before. He was only a year or two older at his wife’s death than I at Patty’s. He sold the old house they had lived in for decades and moved into an apartment hotel, while I’ve recently bought a condo and put my own Toad Hall on the market. I’m no better at cheffery than Harry was but have the advantage of living in the age of that fantastic contraption known as the microwave.

   The third author in whose moccasins I now walk became a widower not once but twice. Fred Dannay (1905-1982), better known as Ellery Queen, married the former Mary Beck in 1926. She died of cancer on July 4, 1945, leaving Fred with two small children to raise.

   In 1947 he married the former Hilda Wiesenthal, who was ten or eleven years younger than he and was the daughter of a cousin of Nazi hunter Simon Wiesenthal. She died in 1972, also of cancer.

   By that time I had come to know Fred well and he had become the closest thing to a grandfather I had ever known. I went through this awful period of his life with him. There’s a photograph of him taken at this time which shows the empty devastated face of a man waiting for the dark to claim him.

   Just as Keeler had married again a few years after Hazel’s death, so did Fred a few years after Hilda’s. I got to know Thelma Keeler well and am convinced that she saved her husband’s life. I also have no doubt that Fred’s third marriage, to the former Rose Koppel, saved his. Will I luck out in my final years as they did?

   I apologize for devoting so much of this column to death but I really don’t have much choice at the moment. Less than a week before Christmas I learned that I’d lost one of my closest mystery-loving friends.

   Bob Briney was something of a universal genius. Physically he evoked Orson Welles or Nero Wolfe but was soft-spoken and totally without their irascibility and moved with a certain gingerliness as if he were afraid he’d crush something if his movements were more forceful.

   He was born near Benton Harbor, Michigan in December 1933 and spent most of his academic career in Massachusetts, at Salem State University. He earned a Ph.D. in mathematics and recovered from the ordeals of his dissertation and orals, so he told me, by reading most of the novels of John Dickson Carr in less than a month.

   Like the clever men of Oxford in The Wind in the Willows, he “knew all that was to be knowed”—about mystery fiction, fantasy, s-f, horror, Westerns, just about every form of popular fiction you can name, plus ballet and opera and movies and classical music and so much more.

   His ability to keep prodigious masses of data in perfectly organized form would have shamed many a computer. He wrote prolifically and with dry wit about books and authors, assiduously collected works in the genres he loved — every room in his large house including the bathroom was a library first and foremost — and corresponded with Sax Rohmer, P.G. Wodehouse, John Creasey and countless other authors.

   It was pure pleasure to read his commentary or listen to his conversation. We started corresponding in the late Sixties, thanks mainly to Al Hubin and The Armchair Detective, and met for the first time in 1970 when I took a bus from New Jersey to a science fiction convention in Manhattan that he was attending.

   Beginning in 1980 he followed in Keeler’s footsteps by putting out the pre-computer equivalent of a blog, which he called Contact Is Not a Verb (a famous line from one of Rex Stout’s Nero Wolfe novels) and kept going until September 2006, a grand total of 149 issues, of a copy of every one of which I am a proud possessor.

   Bob developed diabetes and in the fall of 1990, when I was a visiting professor in New Jersey, had to have some of his toes amputated. Unable to climb the stairs of his own house, he was sleeping in a hospital bed installed on the ground floor. I traveled to Salem by Amtrak and spent a long weekend playing housekeeper: schlepping cartons around so he could access the classical music he loved, taking his clothes to the laundry, even cooking us a few meals (for whose quality I will not vouch).

   Until a few years ago we would rendezvous every summer at the Pulpcon in Dayton, Ohio. Then unaccountably this shy but gregarious man dropped out of sight. Almost no one heard a word from him or knew anything about his health.

   Finally, just a few days before Christmas, I learned he’d been found dead in his house late in November. He had no immediate family. As of this writing I don’t know the cause, or what will happen to the vast library he had accumulated over the decades. All I know is that he was one of the most brilliant and memorable people in my life.

Bouchercon, Philadelphia, 1989. Me (Steve Lewis), Art Scott, Bob Briney, George Kelley, and Mike Nevins. Photo taken by Ellen Nehr.

Bouchercon, New York, 1983. Ellen Nehr and Bob Briney.

Bouchercon, Chicago, 1984. Marv Lachman, Bob Briney, Ellen Nehr and Steve Stilwell.

   Many thanks to Art Scott for providing the photos above.

   Within five months, five deaths: my wife, my youngest brother, my longtime agent, my editorial partner on the “Mystery Makers” series, and the secretary without whose gentle mentoring I’d still be batting out words on a manual typewriter. I’ll never remember this year fondly. But before it closes, and before next January 6 when I collide with my 69th birthday, I’d like to begin writing again.

   In a column that dates back to before any of those deaths, I mentioned that some of the music Bernard Herrmann wrote for the earliest episodes of the CBS Adventures of Ellery Queen radio series could be seen on the Herrmann Society website. Now it can be heard too. If you go to www.filmscorerundowns.net and then click on “CBS Audio Clips,” you’ll be able to listen to 21 Herrmann excerpts, most of them unavailable elsewhere.

   Two of the three earliest come from the 60-minute Ellery Queen episode “The Last Man Club” (June 25, 1939) and the third from “The Impossible Crime” (July 16, 1939), all three performed on a synthesizer by David Ledsam. Even without the original instrumentation, the 31-second Cue 1 from “The Last Man Club” is instantly recognizable as Herrmann, although the other two lack the uniquely ominous sound that he became famous for.

   But it’s hauntingly present in the vast majority of these 21 audio clips, and anyone who listens to all of them will perhaps understand why I’ve called Herrmann the Cornell Woolrich of music.

   You can listen to dozens more audio excerpts, many from legendary TV series like Perry Mason and Have Gun Will Travel and Gunsmoke, if you visit www.bernardherrmann.org and then click on “Herrmann CBS Legacy.” Both of these centenary tributes to perhaps the greatest of all film composers were prepared and arranged by Herrmann authority Bill Wrobel.

   As chance would have it, Herrmann and Queen interfaced again almost a quarter century after the Queen radio show debuted. “Terror in Northfield” (October 11, 1963), one of 17 episodes of The Alfred Hitchcock Hour with original Herrmann scores, was based on a non-series novelet by Queen.

   Herrmann’s music for that and eight other episodes of the series is available on three CDs in the recently released Varese Sarabande set The Alfred Hitchcock Hour, Volume Two, which I recommend highly.

   November 30 of this year marked the 104th birthday of the world-renowned historian of ideas Jacques Barzun, who in the early 1920s was a classmate of Woolrich at Columbia University and to whom we owe everything that is known about the young manhood of the Hitchcock of the written word.

   My first contact with Barzun was in the late Sixties when I arranged for his essay “Detection and the Literary Art” to be reprinted in my anthology The Mystery Writer’s Art.

   We met in 1970 when I was living in New Jersey and working on the Woolrich collection Nightwebs. Barzun invited me to his office in Columbia’s Low Library and spent the better part of an afternoon describing for me what the university was like in the years immediately after World War I and also, of course, what the young Woolrich was like.

   The factor that seems to have brought the two together was that they were the only members of their class who had spent most of their lives outside the United States, Barzun in France and Woolrich in Mexico with his father.

   Their friendship came to an end when Woolrich sold his first novel to a major publisher while in junior year and quit Columbia under the delusion that he was about to become the next F. Scott Fitzgerald. He wound up one of the founders and the supreme practitioner of the dark suspense genre we now call noir.

   Woolrich’s brand of desperate anguish was not Barzun’s cup of tea. His mammoth Catalogue of Crime (2nd ed. 1989) makes it clear that he much preferred humdrum English authors like John Rhode.

   I had read some Rhode and also another humdrum Brit signing himself Miles Burton, and had noticed something very strange about both sets of books. Whenever a character asks a question of another, the verb following the second character’s line of dialogue is always the same. Always.

   Hundreds of times in each book, hundreds of thousands of times in the complete works. “ABC?” asked Inspector Boothbridge. “XYZ,” Lord Wychthorpe replied. “One two three?” Dr. Coxcroft inquired. “Eight nine ten,” Mrs. Hornbeam replied.

   The obvious conclusion is that Rhode and Burton were the same man, but apparently no one had mentioned it before me (in The Armchair Detective for October 1968). At any rate Barzun in Catalogue of Crime credited me with the discovery.

   Among those who weren’t aware of the Rhode-Burton identity was Anthony Boucher. He thought most of the Rhode books dull but usually reviewed them soberly, while the Burton novels he ridiculed and detested. Here’s his complete review of Death at Ash House from the San Francisco Chronicle for December 6, 1942:

   Here’s what he had to say about Accidents Do Happen in the Chronicle for February 10, 1946:

   These and three more snarky reviews of Burton can be found in The Anthony Boucher Chronicles (2001). Burton’s American publisher dropped him before Boucher took over as mystery critic of the New York Times but they continued to appear in England until 1960.

   The Rhodes kept coming out on both sides of the Atlantic and Boucher reviewed all of them, perhaps because as a Catholic he thought he should do penance for his sins. I remember he called one of them “the dreariest Rhode I have yet traversed.” I can’t recall anything about the book of which he said it.

Dear Walker:

   My own collection is all but complete — meaning that I’ve almost acquired all of the items on my want list. Of course I’ll always be out there keeping my eye open for serendipitous books and magazines, but I only have a very few more such items that I’m actually looking for. Once I find those I’m essentially done. Then I’ll just give them all away to the Salvation Army thrift store and start over… Your advice, please!

Dear C.P.

   You have touched on a dangerous subject that all serious collectors must beware. I’ve seen many collectors fall into the dreaded trap of completing their collection. Usually once the collection is completed then many collectors lose interest and start thinking what next?

   This results in the selling off of many collections because the enthusiasm of the chase and the drive to collect is now finished. Collectors that limit themselves to a favorite author or magazine are prone to losing interest once their goal of completion has been achieved.

   Since collecting can be so much fun, how do we avoid falling into the abyss and losing interest in our collections after completion? The answer I have found is very simple, you do not allow yourself to complete your collection. You have to keep expanding your interests.

   For instance, in your case, if you are close to completing your SF wants, then you have to develop an interest in another genre, another subject, other magazines. Maybe detective fiction or adventure pulps or original art to go along with your SF collection. Something else!

   For instance in my own case, I started off in 1956, at the age of 13 collecting SF. This continued for around 10 years until I discovered detective pulps thanks to Ron Goulart’s Hardboiled Dicks anthology. This led me to collecting all sorts of mystery fiction like Raymond Chandler, Dashiell Hammett, Ross Macdonald. It led me to completing sets of such great magazines like Black Mask and Dime Detective.

   But then around 1980, I was faced again with the horrifying realization that I was nearing completion of the detective and mystery wants. I quickly expanded to adventure and western fiction and started to work on extensive sets of Western Story, West, Short Stories, Adventure, All Story, Argosy, Blue Book, Popular, Sea Stories and many others.

   As I started to complete these magazines and run out of reading matter, I decided my job was taking up too much of my time and interfering with my reading and collecting activities. So in 2000 I retired to concentrate on building up what may be the world’s largest collection of literary magazines.

   I’ve yet to meet another collector that is interested in these artifacts, but I love them, and I can fall into a trance looking and smelling the scent of rows and rows of literary quarterlies like the Hudson Review, The Criterion, Scrutiny, The London Magazine, Kenyon Review, Paris Review, and The Virginia Quarterly. I could go on and on forever but I’m sure you are all disgusted and fatigued reading about someone else’s collecting addictions. Hell, I actually read these things.

   But the end may be near, even for me. I’ve mentioned before about almost being crushed by the collapsing of one of my basement bookcases due to overloading. Then a year or so later several bookcases fell on top of me and my son. Then last month a bookcase of literary magazines showered me with more than a hundred issues of the Sewanee Review.

   It was heavenly. I just stood there as the magazines rained down on me and I felt at peace. Then I had to go to work picking them up off the floor and stacking them before my wife came to investigate the noise. She’s heard the sound of collapsing shelves and stacks falling, so she never asked me until a couple days later about the crashing noise that she chose to ignore.

   Probably, she was hoping that I had tempted fate once too often and had been pounded flat as a pancake by the old magazines that she now hates with a passion. But no, I survived once again, just like some pulp super hero!

   So I say to you, C.P., don’t stop collecting. There are unknown fields still to conquer. Don’t spend all your salary on your bills, your family, college fees for your children. You work hard for your money; spend some of it on collecting!

   Now I have to go back to a discussion I’ve been having with myself for 50 years. What is the greatest fiction magazine ever? Is it Adventure in the 1920’s, All Story in the teens, Black Mask and Weird Tales in the 1930’s, Astounding and Unknown in the 1940’s, Galaxy in the 1950’s and 1960’s?

   How about The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, which has to fit somewhere. How about the SF fiction in Playboy and Omni, or the mystery fiction in Manhunt or EQMM?

   Maybe I better fix up these bookcases so they don’t collapse; I need answers to the above questions!

Previously in this series:   Collecting Manhunt.

        #9. THE PATENT LEATHER KID, by Erle Stanley Gardner.

   The Patent Leather Kid is another leading character created by Erle Stanley Gardner. Someone with that identity first appeared in “The Gems of Tai Lee,” a story in the March 25, 1930, issue of Clues, but when the Kid showed up again, in the May 28, 1932, issue of Detective Fiction Weekly, he was a new character, the star of the first of a series of adventures that ended two years later.

   He had a dual identity in the DFW stories – normally rich Dan Seller most of the time, and The Patent Leather Kid when he is ready for one of his somewhat illegal adventures. The patent leather in the name comes from his wearing not only patent leather shoes but also a patent leather face mask to hide his identity.

   The Patent Leather Kid “was always on the lookout for adventure, and anything sufficiently out of the usual called him with an irresistible attraction.” (The Kid Stacks a Deck)

   There is a cast of regular characters for each of his identities. The stories usually start out with a scene of Dan Seller and his fellows at their club, discussing the latest criminal event or activity. The other club members are firstly Police Inspector Phil Brame, then Renfroe the bank president, and Bill Pope the explorer.

   Brame usually brings up a criminal event, which causes disagreement among the others and ends with Seller or Bill Pope often betting on the outcome with him. Brame always loses these bets, but that does not keep him from trying again. Renfroe agrees with the Inspector much of the time, but also tries to avoid antagonizing Seller because he is a large depositor in his bank. It is not revealed how well off Dan Seller is, or where his money comes from.

   In his identity of the Patent Leather Kid, he has another group of people. There is Bill Brakey, The Kid’s bodyguard and assistant. He is also called “A walking encyclopedia of the underworld,” and this comes in handy for The Kid’s adventures. Brakey usually knows the answer to any question about the underworld, or can get the information easily.

   Another person in this group is Gertie, the telephone operator in his apartment house. She keeps track of his messages and also keeps an eye on The Kid’s special elevator which was constructed for his own use. She also knows his identity as Dan Seller. Interestingly, Gertie is also the name of Perry Mason’s telephone operator.

   There are only three people in the apartment house hotel who know Dan Seller’s dual identity: Bill Brakey, Gertie, and the desk clerk who is never named.

   The Patent Leather Kid lived in an apartment house hotel penthouse, with his special security extras such as a steel door and alarms systems. According to one story (The Kid Clips a Coupon), with these security arrangements: “no one could get through the roof without a warning coming over the telephone, without an automatic alarm shrilling a strident warning should the only elevator which communicated with the penthouse start on its way without The Kid’s having first unlocked an electrical contact.”

   The stories involve various kinds of adventures. In “The Kid Clears a Crook,” a reformed criminal trying to go straight is framed and taken advantage of by underworld crooks, and the police don’t care. The Kid sets out to clear the ex-crook and set the blame where it belongs, thereby infuriating both the underworld and the police.

   Neither group likes interference from The Kid in their affairs, and try repeatedly to eliminate him. The police even (according to Inspector Brame) give the underworld the green light to eliminate The Kid, but this never happens. Brame even states that if they catch the Kid, they will frame criminal charges on him in order to keep him in jail for a long time.

   The Kid enjoys this, in his words: “In this game of matching wits with the law, The Patent Leather Kid found his most fascinating recreation. He gambled with life and liberty, and enjoyed the game.” (The Kid Stacks a Deck) So the acquisition of money or property gained illegally is definitely not the goal of The Kid.

   The first story to appear in DFW, “The Kid Stacks a Deck,” is a bit different than the others in the series. Bill Brakey does not appear in this story, and Gertie is present but not named. Inspector Brame is given the title of Commissioner, which he loses in later stories. Possibly the author thought the stories more effective with a lower ranking policeman.

   In the story, The Kid finds out that a criminal gang is out to kill him, so he sets a trap for them. He breaks into a jewelry store, steals a few items and mails them to Brame and his family. The gang is waiting outside to shoot and rob him as he leaves. However, The Kid alerts the police who attack and wipe out the gang as The Kid escapes.

   The story presents the image of The Kid as a master burglar without peer in the underworld and with a high reputation for those talents. However, he seems to have gained nothing from his burglary of the jewelry store. In fact, a point is made throughout the series that “The police had never been able to brand him specifically as a crook. He was a big shot, and his ways were the ways of the underworld, but they had never as yet pinned any definite crime upon him.” (The Kid Wins a Wager)

   Inspector Brame’s chief complaint about The Patent Leather Kid was that his activities damaged the dignity of the police and made them look bad and caused people (and The Kid) to laugh at them. That was a terrible offense to Brame. He seems to have cared more about the dignity of the police department than anything else.

   In “The Kid Throws a Stone,” The Kid is involved in a case where someone is impersonating him. The impersonator has already pulled one robbery before the real Patent Leather Kid starts his complex counter-offensive.

   In another case of impersonation told in “The Kid Wins a Wager”, a criminal burglarizes a jewelry story and leave a note supposedly signed by The Patent Leather Kid. Fortunately, The Kid catches him in the act and clears that up.

   One of The Kid’s favorite tactics was to get criminals, who are after him, into confrontations with the police, where they invariably wind up shot. Rarely does The Kid have to use a gun on the criminals themselves, but this does occur in the story “The Kid Cooks a Goose,” where he and Bill Brakey are trying to protect a woman from a gang of killers. They shoot it out with the three killers and wipe out the gang.

   This is a fun series, and Gardner is obviously enjoying himself writing these improbable situations. On a “Writer’s Almanac” episode on NPR (National Public Radio), Garrison Keillor quotes Gardner as saying about his pulp work: “I write to make money, and I write to give the reader sheer fun.”

      The Patent Leather Kid series by Erle Stanley Gardner:

The Gems of Tai Lee     Clues, 25 March 25 1930     [This story features a different “Patent Leather Kid,” as it turns out. See comment #12.]

   The Patent Leather Kid discussed above appeared as a character only in Detective Fiction Weekly:

The Kid Stacks a Deck     May 28, 1932
The Kid Passes the Sugar     July 16, 1932
The Kid Wins a Wager     September 10, 1932
The Kid Throws a Stone     October 22, 1932
The Kid Makes a Bid     February 18, 1933
The Kid Muscles In     April 15, 1933
The Kid Takes a Cut     May 20, 1933
The Kid Beats the Gun     August 5, 1933
The Kid Covers a Kill     November 4, 1933
The Kid Clears a Crook     February 3, 1934
The Kid Clips a Coupon     April 21, 1934
The Kid Cooks a Goose     July 14, 1934
The Kid Steals a Star     November 17, 1934

NOTE: The 13 stories that appeared in Detective Fiction Weekly have been collected in The Exploits of the Patent Leather Kid, edited by Bill Pronzini (Crippen & Landru, 2011).

    Previously in this series:

1. SHAMUS MAGUIRE, by Stanley Day.
2. HAPPY McGONIGLE, by Paul Allenby.
3. ARTY BEELE, by Ruth & Alexander Wilson.
4. COLIN HAIG, by H. Bedford-Jones.
5. SECRET AGENT GEORGE DEVRITE, by Tom Curry.
6. BATTLE McKIM, by Edward Parrish Ware.
7. TUG NORTON by Edward Parrish Ware.
8. CANDID JONES by Richard Sale.

        #8. CANDID JONES, by Richard Sale.

   The series discussed this time is the Candid Jones series, created by Richard B. Sale and running from 1937-41. Sale had five other series running in Detective Fiction Weekly at one time or another: Daffy Dill, Captain McGrail, Casey Mason, John the Cobra, and Owl-Eye Venner. So Sale’s stories, from this evidence, seem to have been popular with the readers.

   The Daffy Dill and Candid Jones stories often were given covers for their issues. The very first Candid Jones story rated a special cover featuring Jones himself with his camera and gun. Daffy Dill describes Candid Jones in a later story: “He was a pretty big fellow, kind of homely, his face filled with freckles, his hair shiny as bright copper. … He had a strong jaw and clean eyes. … There was an air about him that meant Business with a capital B.” (Flash!)

   The stories give a little background about Candid Jones and how he wound up as a photographer. His real first name is Terrence, and the Candid nickname was given to him because of his candid personality. He is a hardboiled character, and had quite a fearsome reputation as an investigator.

   Jones started out being an investigator for an unnamed private detective firm, then after a year of learning the ropes, got a job with the Apex Insurance Company, on “the gumshoe trail of stolen gems and insurance chiselers.” (Make Way for a Dagger)

   Photography was his hobby at that time, and he began selling some of his pictures. He eventually decided to make a business of his hobby and went into business for himself, after resigning in 1932 from his insurance job of thirteen years. His background as an investigator helps him when he gets involved in mysteries, and his success brings more cases.

   His beginnings as a private investigator are seen in a flashback in the story “One Herring — Very Red”, in which he investigates the murder of a friend and mentor of his from that time period. At the end of this story he agrees to work for Apex Insurance Company on special assignments, otherwise he works on his photography jobs. And in another story, we learn of a previous marriage when he investigates a homicide and clears his ex-wife.

   Regarding his hardboiled reputation, Jones admits that maybe he was: “I was never afraid of any man, and I always figured that if a guy was going to get rough with you, the best thing to do was to get rough with him first.” (Long Shot) He also notes that “Bluff is great stuff and so is a front. It goes a long way.” (Murder on the Film)

   However, he noted, eventually you have to use your fists or bullets if it becomes necessary. Another of Sales’ characters, on the other hand, Daffy Dill, is not really a hardboiled character but always carries a gun because he deals with criminals and crimes regularly. Dill is a much easier going person.

   Many series have a policeman as friend or antagonist to the main character, and this series has one. Inspector Harry Rentano is a friend of Candid Jones, and sometimes invites him along on his official investigations. Rentano is also available for any assistance Candid Jones may need on investigations he starts.

   Rentano first met Candid Jones during the time Jones worked as an insurance investigator. He used to be on the police Bomb Squad, and worked on some Mafia cases. He is currently head of the Homicide bureau, and was known as a policeman more interested in knowing the truth about a case than in making an important arrest to impress people. He is married with four children.

   The third member of the cast in the stories is Jones’ girlfriend, Claire Crossman. She is a model from the Frazier Agency, “and outside of being my favorite model, she’s about my favorite girl-friend too.” (Banshee) She often does not appear in a very prominent role in the stories, unlike Dinah Mason in the Daffy Dill series.

   Candid Jones has two items he seems to carry with him everywhere. One is a camera, often a Leica, Model G. The other is his gun, a German 9mm Luger. He does not say where he picked up this weapon, but it is possible he is a war veteran.

   One occasion where Jones used a different camera is in the story “You Can’t Print That!” where he takes an entire strip of twenty-four exposures with a robot camera that automatically takes the photographs and advances the film for the next exposure. It came in handy for the murder he witnessed, and left his other hand free to use his gun on the murderer.

   Jones uses his gun frequently in the stories, and in his own words, “I’ve got to admit I never had any scruples about killing a man. … I don’t like to kill … But when it’s my life against a rat’s.” (Murder on the Film) His camera saved his life on one occasion, when a bullet struck it rather than him. (The Big Top Murders)

   To get an idea of the sort of crimes that Candid Jones becomes involved in investigating, a short survey of some of the stories is in order. “Long Shot”, the first story, involves an attempt to fix a horse race. It is a very violent story, and probably the most hardboiled of the series.

   In “You Can’t Print That!” Jones witnesses a murder that is connected to the trial of a racketeer, and takes some photographs for his first newspaper job. In “Backstage” Jones makes a bet with Inspector Rentano that he can catch a double murderer by the next day. This one takes place at the local zoological park.

   In “Banshee” Inspector Rentano asks Jones for help on the question of a banshee at the city aquarium, and gets involved with some criminals. In “Make Way for a Dagger” Inspector Rentano asks Jones along on a murder investigation aboard a yacht in the Hudson River, where the weapon is a harpoon.

   In two of the stories Daffy Dill costars with Candid Jones: “Flash!” and “Death of a Glamor Girl.” Both characters appeared on the cover of “Flash!”, thus promoting both series. Daffy Dill also makes a brief appearance in “You Can’t Print That!”

   At the time of the story “You Can’t Print That!” Jones had acquired a staff photographer position on the Chronicle newspaper at the salary of a thousand dollars a month, but he stated in “Banshee” that he had given up that position because there was “Too much of a sameness. I was getting rich without working. I’m on my own again.”

   Photographs play an important part in the stories in the series, often revealing clues and serving as evidence of crimes. Jones’ photograph studio is on Fifth near Forty-Fifth Street. The studio is evidently well-equipped, having been set up for modeling sessions that Jones photographs, plus an excellent darkroom for developing film.

   Jones works not only in black-and-white film but also does color prints, which is “a technical sort of job, involving separation of color values in the negatives and then dyes.” (Backstage)

   There was an extended gap between the last two stories. The last story, “Delayed Action” in 1941, explained that some changes had taken place since the previous group of stories. Jones noted that it had been almost a year since he had been involved in any crime cases, and he intended to continue that way.

   However, in this story he becomes involved in a crime case, and willingly so. He also notes that Claire Crossman has married someone else, so that romance is off. Candid Jones’ ex-wife plays a part in the story, and he protects her from the criminals. Inspector Rentano is mentioned in this story, but does not appear in it.

   The series is worthy of being reprinted. Although not quite as numerous and popular as the Daffy Dill series, it is a good hardboiled detective series worth reading. One advantage to writing these series overviews is being able to reread the stories, especially the better ones like Candid Jones.

      The Candid Jones series by Richard Sale:

Long Shot     January 9, 1937
Neat But Not Gaudy     January 30, 1937
Murder on the Film     April 3, 1937
One Herring — Very Red     May 1, 1937
Flash!     May 29, 1937
The Camera Kills     July 31, 1937
You Can’t Print That!     August 21, 1937
Gaff!     October 30, 1937
The Big Top Murders     November 13, 1937
Back Stage     January 15, 1938
Banshee     April 9, 1938
Make Way for a Dagger     August 27, 1938
Pictures in the Dark     December 10, 1938
Torio Had a Friend     March 25, 1939
Death of a Glamor Girl     April 8, 1939
The Mother Goose Murders     May 27, 1939

Tip Your Hat     August 26, 1939
Someday I’ll Get You     November 18, 1939
Delayed Action     June 14, 1941

    Previously in this series:

1. SHAMUS MAGUIRE, by Stanley Day.
2. HAPPY McGONIGLE, by Paul Allenby.
3. ARTY BEELE, by Ruth & Alexander Wilson.
4. COLIN HAIG, by H. Bedford-Jones.
5. SECRET AGENT GEORGE DEVRITE, by Tom Curry.
6. BATTLE McKIM, by Edward Parrish Ware.
7. TUG NORTON by Edward Parrish Ware.

        #7. TUG NORTON, by Edward Parrish Ware.

   Tug Norton is a private detective and creation of prolific author Edward Parrish Ware (1884-1967?). These stories are told first hand by Tug Norton:

   Norton notes that when business is dull, he entertains and instructs himself by studying his casebook (The Devil Winks). This is how some of the Norton stories begin, with him reliving the case he has looked up in his files.

   Tug Norton is a former cowboy and policeman. He formerly served in the police department in Kansas City, but lost his position there when new police commissioners came into office and fired “all those politically off-colored,” including him. (Lost Lake)

   His past as a cowboy is brought out in the story “The Sow’s Ear”, in which Lafe Spear, a friend of his from Oklahoma, shows up at the agency to hire him. Lafe Spear and Norton had worked together as cowboys some twelve years previously. This story is written as a contemporary Western: horses are used, and the principals dress as cowboys (including Tug Norton). The setting is rural Oklahoma.

   The Kaw Valley Detective Bureau is based in Kansas City, Missouri, but the cases are also spread out in numerous other locations. Norton states in one story that he was not interested in out-of-town cases, and that he was “confining my practice—what there is of it—to the city.” (The Tomahawk)

   However, contrary to this declaration, Norton does take cases outside Kansas City. In the Norton series there are some stories in an urban setting, but the series is a wide-ranging one and has quite a few stories in rural settings. For example, one story, “The Silent Partner”, begins in Kansas City but most of the action takes place in the wilds of Arkansas.

    “Empty Pouches” takes place in Arkansas, “The Trackless Trail” and “The Tomahawk” cases are in Kansas, “The Queen’s Patteran” in and around Joplin, Missouri, and so forth for many other cases. “The Devil Winks” is mostly in Kansas City, but the climax and finish take place in rural Arkansas.

   In “A Dead Man in the Cast,” Norton discusses an early case in his career, before he had any assistants. At that time the agency consisted of just himself and his secretary-receptionist Mary Malloy. The offices at that time were in suite 606 (sixth floor), Gateway Building.

   Norton never used the front entrance to his offices, instead using as the entrance another door along the hall that showed the words: Andrew Harper, Stocks & Bonds, Private. This suite masked an entrance to his real offices next door.

   In another early story from his career as a private detective, “The Wheels Turn,” shows a client hiring him at his hotel. Norton mentions that a year after this case his offices were in the Sandstone Building. In his early cases Norton seems to have been aided by having cases referred to him by Chief Enger, his former boss at the Kansas City Police Department.

   He does use other operatives in his work, and they show up in the stories from time to time. As of the early 1927 stories, Jim Steel was his chief assistant, and worked with him on “The Queen’s Patteran” case among others. Other unnamed detective operatives also show up in stories such as “When Fate Wants a Man.”

   Norton has an office boy named Spec, who announces visitors and would-be clients. Spec is noted as being “something of a mimic.” (A Game With Death) No doubt he is also a detective in training.

   Norton on occasion is called in to help various law enforcement officials in Missouri. The story “A Game With Death” features one of those cases. A sheriff named Hap Craker calls on Tug Norton in his Kansas City office and asks for help against a gang of criminals infesting his county.

   In another case, Sheriff Sam Sneed from Arkansas, an old acquaintance of Norton’s, comes to him for help in solving a series of robberies and murders. (Empty Pouches) In a third case, Sheriff Rube Wallace of Cold Springs County called for Norton’s assistance in a multiple arson and murder case. So it appears that Tug Norton had gained a good reputation for solving difficult cases.

   The Kaw Valley Detective Bureau is also on retainer with various clients, or in other words paid at regular intervals in case their services are needed. “The Dumb Spot” is an example where one of these clients calls them in to help solve a bank robbery and murder.

   The agency has connections with other detective agencies around the country, and they could call in for help on a case if necessary. This is the case in “Dynamite and Six-Guns,” where a friend from a Chicago detective agency has a case that is taking him to Kansas City. He calls Norton and asks for his agency’s assistance in the matter. It turns out to be an exceedingly violent case for Norton, but he wins a big fee.

   Some of his cases are just downright offbeat and strange. The first is “The Seven Coffins”, a story late in the series. Norton’s agency is hired to guard six empty coffins in a deceased millionaire’s mansion, but the mystery of the seventh coffin causes murder. The mortician and his assistant are involved, and one scene takes place at the funeral home.

   In another case, “The Tomahawk,” a rich man has suddenly become a hermit in his own mansion, and Norton has to find out why. In this case, an old Gypsy curse from a nearby tribe is the reason for the man’s behavior.

   Even though there is plenty of violence in the series, with numerous gunfights, Norton is not a big believer in using guns to solve every problem. In the story “Hell’s Backyard,” he puts forth his philosophy upon the use of guns. He says that any sleuth, either police or private detective, who is overly fond of using guns to solve problems is asking for trouble. He either gets shot or fired for using his gun.

   This attitude is interesting for that time, considering that the pulps are filled with violence, and gunfights are common in this series. In fact, Ware’s own Ranger Calhoun series are probably some of the most violent in the magazine, and rarely does a story end without the criminal being shot. However, even this series couldn’t compete with Judson Philips’ series about the Park Avenue Hunt Club when it comes to violence.

   Norton is a bit of a philosopher, and begins many of the stories with some of his philosophy (based on experience and observation). Here is an example:

   Norton’s idea of a vacation from work is to go fishing. In “Trouble Up the Stream,” he and his assistant Jim Steel go on a week-long fishing trip. However, as expected, they run into trouble and have to solve a murder.

   This series was begun during the formative period of the hard-boiled private detective type of story, but still uses features of the more formal detective story, such as the use of logic and deduction to solve crimes. It does have some features of the hard-boiled story; the stories are still very violent in the private detective way, with the conclusion often resolved with gunshots.

   Tug Norton is definitely a tough, hard-boiled detective with plenty of experience, and his speech and behavior show this. He doesn’t act like the stereotypical lone wolf private detective. He is more of a descendant of the older detective characters of the dime novels type. Many, but not all, of the new private detective stories are primarily urban in setting.

   Ware had many stories published in Flynn’s/Detective Fiction Weekly in the 1920s-1930s. The Tug Norton series numbered 40 stories from 1926-1934, including two in Dime Detective. The Ranger Jack Calhoun series, also by Ware, numbered at least 59 stories from 1926-1936.

   A third series by Ware was the Buck Harris series of 12 stories 1930-1934. Battle McKim was another series by Ware, counting 12 stories 1934-1935. Ware’s character Sheriff Bob Stratton appeared in 2 stories in 1929.

   So Ware was very busy writing for this one pulp title. His Calhoun stories seemed to be the most popular, and the character appeared on the magazine’s cover a number of times. Tug Norton, although seemingly not as popular, was in my opinion the better written series.

      The Tug Norton series by Edward Parrish Ware:

    From Detective Fiction Weekly:

The Tree-Top Trail     January 30, 1926
The Fifth Gate     March 13, 1926
The Queen’s Patteran     January 1, 1927
Hell’s Backyard     March 26, 1927
The Silent Partner     April 2, 1927
Lost Lake     May 14, 1927
The Hole in the Hill     October 1, 1927
Empty Pouches     December 3, 1927
The Tomahawk     February 18, 1928
The Devil’s Pocket     February 25, 1928
The Devil Winks     March 3, 1928
Hitched to the Wind     April 14, 1928
The Wheels Turn     April 28, 1928
When Fate Wants a Man     October 20, 1928
When Thief Catches Thief     December 1, 1928
Signed With Lead     December 15, 1928
The Death Stone     November 2, 1929
The Trackless Trail     November 30, 1929
The Locomotive Mystery     February 22, 1930
Hot Eyes     July 5, 1930
A Game With Death     May 24, 1930
The Sow’s Ear     October 18, 1930
Prison Shoes     November 22, 1930
The Jade Boomerang     December 6, 1930
Snow Camp     December 13, 1930
A Background of Vendetta     April 11, 1931
Consider the Sphinx     October 24, 1931
Trouble Up the Stream     November 28, 1931
The Yellow Demon     July 16, 1932
The Devil’s Do-All     July 23, 1932
The Pole-Axe Problem     October 1, 1932
Behind the Green Mask     November 12, 1932
Monkey Blood     February 25, 1933
Red Skies     May 27, 1933
A Dead Man in the Cast     August 12, 1933
Dynamite and Six-Guns     January 20, 1934
The Seven Coffins     February 17, 1934
The Dumb Spot     June 9, 1934

    From Dime Detective Magazine:

The Skull of Judgment     March, 1932
The Gallows Clue     July 15, 1933

    Previously in this series:

1. SHAMUS MAGUIRE, by Stanley Day.
2. HAPPY McGONIGLE, by Paul Allenby.
3. ARTY BEELE, by Ruth & Alexander Wilson.
4. COLIN HAIG, by H. Bedford-Jones.
5. SECRET AGENT GEORGE DEVRITE, by Tom Curry.
6. BATTLE McKIM, by Edward Parrish Ware.

   The chances are that the 1957 to 1961 TV phase of the American Private Eye will be remembered as the most slickest in the TV genre. (“Slick,” as in the sense of smooth and efficient, streamlined.) There had been nothing else like before and nothing since has managed to equal the quintessence of its visual style.

   In short, it was a curious phenomenon seemingly belonging to time, by way of inspiration, aided and abetted by style. This unique time period ranges from, say, Richard Diamond, Private Detective (CBS, 1957-59; NBC, 1959-60) to Michael Shayne (NBC, 1960-61). Fortunately, the phase didn’t last long enough to become a parody of itself (unlike the later TV Spy cycle) and remains therefore a largely unblemished sub-genre.

   Hollywood films of the 1940s such as the obvious contenders The Maltese Falcon (1941), the 20th Fox “Michael Shayne” films with Lloyd Nolan (1940 to 1942), Murder My Sweet (1944) and The Big Sleep (1946), featuring private detectives, and fashionably now termed as film noir, had as their inspiration the modern literary genre: from early hard-boiled works by Hammett and Carroll John Daly to more contemporary authors such as Jonathan Latimer, Brett Halliday [Davis Dresser] and Chandler. All except Latimer had been contributors to the pulp magazines (Black Mask, Dime Detective, Spicy Mystery, Thrilling Detective, etc.).

   This Hollywood studio period embodied the on-screen noir tough guy, epitomized by a Humphrey Bogart or by an unlikely Dick Powell (Cornered, 1945). They were tense and tight-lipped, yet agile. Men of a cynical disbelief that slipped easily into bemused irony. Their film world was often corpse-littered and bafflingly plotted.

   The early period of TV Private Eyes (around 1949 to 1954) tended to stem from radio or were under the executive thumb of proprietorial sponsors. One of the earliest series was Martin Kane, Private Eye (NBC, 1949-54), which seemed to change its leading actor with each season. Charlie Wild, Private Detective (CBS, 1950-51; ABC, 1951-52; DuMont, 1952) was an extension of sponsor Wildroot Cream’s The Adventures of Sam Spade, Detective radio series (Howard Duff).

   The Cases of Eddie Drake (DuMont, 1952) was followed by The Files of Jeffrey Jones (syndicated 1954-55); Don Haggerty played the featured PI in each. Disappointingly, these on-screen characters and their milieu belonged strictly to 1940s Hollywood.

   The TV Private Eye phase of the late 1950s, on the other hand, appeared to be the result of several exciting events. Primarily, the advent of paperback priginals led by Fawcett’s line of Gold Medal books in 1950 (previously, paperback books had been reprints of hard cover editions). Genre authors published by Gold Medal in the 1950s or its companion imprint, Crest, included Richard S. Prather (with the Shell Scott novels), William Campbell Gault (Joe Puma novels), Stephen Marlowe (Chester Drum novels), Curt Cannon [Evan Hunter] (Cannon/Matt Cordell stories).

   Additionally, Henry Kane for Avon & Signet Signet & Avon (Peter Chambers), Thomas B. Dewey for Dell (Pete Scofield) and Frank Kane also for Dell (Johnny Liddell). Reprinted from hardcover were Mickey Spillane for Dutton then Signet (Mike Hammer, of course), a publishing phenomenon, and Brett Halliday for Dodd Mead and Dell (Mike Shayne). Hard-boiled private eye stories seemed to be flavor of the month (or should I say, decade?).

   Another strong influence appeared to be the increasing sophistication of jazz music and the contemporary jazz musicians’ sartorial inclination toward what was known as the Ivy League Look (think jazz saxophonist Gerry Mulligan or Craig Stevens in the 1958-61 Peter Gunn or even Dick Van Dyke in the 1961-66 sitcom The Dick Van Dyke Show).

   Collegiate, soft-shouldered suits with button-down shirts and slim ties. Rather timely, for four albums which are now considered seminal jazz records (Dave Brubeck’s Time Out, Miles Davis’s Kind of Blue, Charles Mingus’s Mingus Ah Um and Ornette Coleman’s The Shape of Jazz to Come) were all released in 1959.

   I remember reading somewhere that the tough-as-nails TV Western hero evolved from his place on the prairie to the mean streets of the TV Private Eye. Interestingly, the Private Eye phase was active during the time of the TV Western stampede (where kiddie actioners like The Lone Ranger and The Gene Autry Show gave way to “adult” Westerns like Cheyenne, Rawhide and Gunsmoke in the mid-1950s).

   For me, Scott Brady’s Shotgun Slade (syndicated 1959-61) may have been enjoyable for its account of a gun-toting investigator in the Old West — complete with jazz score! — but I am not at all sure about the theory that Jim Hardie (Tales of Wells Fargo), for instance, might have become someone like Stuart Bailey (77 Sunset Strip).

   A listing of relevant TV Private Eye series during this period would include The Investigator (NBC, 1958), Markham (CBS, 1959-60), 21 Beacon Street (NBC, 1959; ABC, 1959-60), Coronado 9 (syndicated 1960-61), Bourbon Street Beat (ABC, 1959-60), Hawaiian Eye (ABC, 1959-63), Philip Marlowe (ABC, 1959-60), Johnny Midnight (syndicated 1960), Surfside 6 (ABC, 1960-62), The Brothers Brannagan (sic) (syndicated 1960-61) and Michael Shayne (NBC, 1960-61).

   Some interesting-sounding pilot shows from the decade include “The Girl from Kansas” (1952) with Barry Sullivan as sleuth Nemo Grey (I can’t tell if the would-be series, to be called Nemo Grey, would be about a police or private detective); “Death the Hard Way” (1954) had William Gargan as PI Barry Craig (directed by Blake Edwards); “Mike Hammer” (1954) was an early try-out starring Brian Keith (written and directed by Blake Edwards); “The Bigger They Come” (1955) from A.A. Fair/Erle Stanley Gardner’s first Cool and Lam novel; “Man On a Raft” (1958) had Mark Stevens as Michael Shayne in an early attempt for a series; “The Silent Kill” (1959) was based on author William Campbell Gault’s Brock Callahan p.i. character.

   I left my personal favorites until last. The phase included also the bloodthirsty Mickey Spillane’s Mike Hammer (syndicated 1958-59) with a suitably brutal, street-fighting, crew-cutted Darren McGavin (and yes, the author’s and character’s names together is the full title). The enterprising (answering service/car phone) Richard Diamond, Private Detective (CBS, 1957-59; NBC, 1959-60) with the always-watchable David Janssen (his first series) and an outstanding jazz score by Pete Rugolo.

   Perhaps the best of the Warner Brothers TV private eye shows of the time, 77 Sunset Strip (ABC, 1958-64) was the first to offer an agency-based ensemble private detective team as well as a snappy signature tune. Blake Edwards’ Peter Gunn (NBC, 1958-60; ABC, 1960-61) stands as the epitome of late 1950s TV Private Eyes for me, dealing out action and sophistication in equal doses, along with Henry Mancini’s entirely jazz-based score.

   The latter presentation went on to influence many other TV shows, most notably Staccato (aka Johnny Staccato; NBC, 1959-60; ABC, 1960), John Cassavetes’ gift to the small-screen as jazz pianist/private eye working out of a small Greenwich Village jazz club, often accompanying house band musicians Barney Kessel, Shelly Manne, Red Norvo and Red Mitchell.

   They were all were taut crime dramas which if anything improved as they went on. The writing and direction was efficient, being vigorous and well-staged despite some unavoidable weaknesses in plotting and performance. The 1950s private eyes were indeed masterful but mannered heroes. By contrast, later makers of TV Private Eye series seemed to suffer from that garish and nervous over-sophistication which bedevilled so many producers in the age of color television.

   A significant TV phase of the past that was sadly brought to a halt by two unrelated forces — the Federal Communications Commission (FCC) and the 1960s TV Spy craze — was the TV Gangster period, led by Quinn Martin’s The Untouchables (ABC, 1959-63). It’ll be my next project.

Note:   The introduction to this series of columns by Tise Vahimagi on TV mysteries and crime shows may be found here, followed by:

Part 1: Basic Characteristics (A Swift Overview)
Part 2.0: Evolution of the TV Genre (UK)
Part 2.1: Evolution of the TV Genre (US)
Part 3.0: Cold War Adventurers (The First Spy Cycle)
Part 3.1: Adventurers (Sleuths Without Portfolio).
Part 4.0: Themes and Strands (1950s Police Dramas).
Part 4.1: Themes and Strands (Durbridge Cliffhangers)
Part 5.0: Theatre of Crime (US).
Part 5.1: Theatre of Crime (Hours of Suspense Revisited).
Part 5.2: Theatre of Crime (UK)

        #6. BATTLE McKIM, by Edward Parrish Ware.

   The Battle McKim stories by Edward Parrish Ware were a short series of at least thirteen tales published in Detective Fiction Weekly between 1934 through 1937. The stories are about a detective who works for Sheriff Calloway in Zinc City, near the Ozark Mountains in what appears to be Missouri.

   Zinc City has a population of something over fifty thousand residents. “Brutus McKim, nicknamed ‘Battle,’ . . . stood five feet and five inches in his low-heeled shoes, and weighed one hundred and thirty pounds. His age was somewhat under forty, and his nature was as mild as milk. But this small, mild-mannered man had, on more than one occasion, proved his right to the nickname which had been bestowed on him originally in fun.” (The Clue of the Broken Chimney)

   In fact, in the first story McKim has to shoot two criminals who tried to kill him. However, Battle McKim “hated to use his gun. It was against his nature to kill. When he just had to do it, he did.” In one story, it was revealed that McKim was especially fond of circuses and circus people, and thought that circus bands “made the finest music of any other bands whatever.” (Clue of the Elephant’s Ear) McKim is never without his Stetson hat nor his gun.

   The stories mostly have titles that involve a clue which is important to the solution of the story. Ware had other series which were published in DFW: the Ranger Jack Calhoun series (1926-1938), Tug Norton (1926-1934), and Buck Harris (1930-1934). So Ware wrote many stories for the magazine, but nothing after 1938.

   The first known story in the Battle McKim series is “The Clue of the Broken Chimney” which sets forth some background facts and in its plot shows what the series was going to be like. McKim sees in the death of a mining owner by a fall from a height to be murder, when everyone else disagrees and claims either accident or suicide.

   McKim’s investigation into the matter causes some trouble for him with criminals, but he is not deterred. The sheriff seems to have great confidence in McKim’s abilities and will go along with whatever he says.

   â€œClue of the Bandit’s Beard” involves the false beard one of the criminals wears. The story involves the holdup and murder at a mining encampment. In this story Battle McKim shows his sleuthing and tracking abilities by tracking down the criminals.

   As seems to be usual in this series, he has gunfights with the criminals. However, he takes such a long time tracking down the criminals that Sheriff Calloway becomes angry at his absence. It seems that the sheriff depends a bit too much upon his resident detective.

   â€œThe Clue of the Animal Crackers” actually involves the contents of a box of animal crackers. These crackers seem to have been around a long time; I assume they are still available nowadays. The scene is the county fair, where a carnival is taking place. One of the carnival people has been murdered, and McKim must figure out who committed the crime. The animal crackers play a significant role in the solution of the mystery. For a change, there is no gunfight between McKim and the criminal.

   â€œClue of the Battered Bullets” involves a mysterious case of murder and a kidnapping of a banker. Upon investigation, Battle McKim also finds plenty of clues leading in various directions. He suspects that there is more to the case than first appears, and by the end, he has to gunfight with a criminal who was behind it all. A number of the stories in this series involve gunfights with the criminals. Occasionally McKim does capture the criminals alive.

   â€œClue of the Elephant’s Ear” takes place at the Moseby’s Marvelous Circus, which is visiting Zinc City. The headliner of the circus and its greatest attraction is the intelligent elephant Bong the Great, or Bong, the Elephant with the Human Brain as he is billed on advertisements. Battle McKim investigates after the elephant kills its trainer during a performance.

   The killing by the elephant was due to a sudden rage that came over the elephant, and McKim wants to know if there are reasons for this behavior. Sheriff Calloway objects to this, saying that he has already decided to kill the elephant as a dangerous beast. McKim doesn’t pay any attention to this and investigates anyway.

   â€œClue of the Persian Cat” involves two Persian cats and a murder mystery at a roadhouse. One of the two owners has been mysteriously killed, and the first thing Battle McKim must decide is whether it was suicide or murder. There aren’t very many suspects, so the mystery angle is a bit slim. The cats’ involvement turns out to be important in the mystery, and leads McKim to the solution.

   â€œClue of the Poisoned Dog” presents Battle McKim with a murder mystery that has taken place at a rich man house where several people are guests. It also takes place in the midst of a snowstorm, which shows that no on entered or left the house at the time of the murder. In addition, unset diamonds valued at a hundred thousand dollars have been stolen from the dead man. McKim cleverly solves the crimes and recovers the diamonds.

   â€œClue of the Hard-Boiled Eggs” has a slim clue for Battle McKim to work on. A local farmer had sold some land for $10,000 and decided to hide the money on his property rather than putting it in the bank. McKim becomes involved after the man supposedly died accidentally, leaving his money still hidden.

   After investigating, McKim deduces that the farmer was actually murdered and his money stolen. McKim has to resort to trickery to force the criminal to give himself away as the guilty man.

   â€œClue of the Pekin Ducks” is another good story. The clue of the ducks involves their reputation as a night alarm, alerting their owner as to trespassers. The crime here is of the murder and robbery of their owner, a stingy, miserly, person who is disliked by virtually everyone. Plenty of suspects in a case of this nature. But the duck clue led Battle McKim to the only person who could have committed the crime.

   â€œClue of the Crawling Cows” deals with a different kind of crime. A train baggage car of the Missouri Central Railroad has been robbed, one of the car workers tied up and the other man missing as well as fifty thousand dollars gone.

   Battle McKim must find out where the missing train worker went as well as find the missing money. The story is clever, and McKim finds the definitive clue in the behavior of some cattle next to the train tracks.

   â€œClue of the Second Death” involves a murder by somewhat improbable means, but the author seems to make it work in the story, although it is a bit far-fetched that Battle McKim should be able to figure it out. The murder victim is Colonel Shel Allen, who is stricken dead by aconite poisoning while driving his car.

   Because Allen was the county prosecutor, suspicion comes down on a crooked judge and his friends, but McKim tends to believe in a different group of suspects and devotes his investigation to them. The second death clue gives McKim the evidence he needs to figure out who committed the first murder.

   â€œClue of the Tallow Candle” was the last story in the series, and much of it takes place underground in some caves near Zinc City. A noted judge has been killed in one of the caves, and Battle McKim must first prove it was deliberate murder rather than an accident.

   As usual, hidden clues contribute to the story, and a second death makes the mystery more difficult to solve. However, McKim draws the suspects around with the addition of others in the sheriff’s department, and proves who committed the murder and why. As often happens, McKim shoots it out with the killer.

   This is an average series, with very good stories. There is not any humor in the stories, just a basic storytelling technique that does a decent job of the adventures of Battle McKim in his quest for the truth.

   The stories are at least a change from the sameness that had crept into Ware’s series about Ranger Jack Calhoun. Interestingly, Ware must have disliked veterinarians, as he makes them the villain in two of the stories.

      The Battle McKim series by Edward Parrish Ware:

The Clue of the Broken Chimney     October 27, 1934
Clue of the Bandit’s Beard     November 10, 1934
The Clue of the Animal Crackers     November 24, 1934
Clue of the Battered Bullets     March 16, 1935
Clue of the Elephant’s Ear     April 20, 1935
Clue of the Persian Cat     May 4, 1935
Clue of the Poisoned Dog     August 3, 1935
Clue of the Hard-Boiled Eggs     August 10, 1935
Clue of the Pekin Ducks     September 21, 1935
Clue of the Putty Paper     November 2, 1935    *
Clue of the Crawling Cows     December 21, 1935
Clue of the Second Death     March 21, 1936
Clue of the Tallow Candle     October 9, 1937

* I don’t have this story, but the title indicates it might be part of the series. [And so it is. See Comment #1.]

    Previously in this series:

1. SHAMUS MAGUIRE, by Stanley Day.
2. HAPPY McGONIGLE, by Paul Allenby.
3. ARTY BEELE, by Ruth & Alexander Wilson.
4. COLIN HAIG, by H. Bedford-Jones.
5. SECRET AGENT GEORGE DEVRITE, by Tom Curry.

   Recently, I was walking through my house trying to find a set of magazines on the bookshelves. I wasn’t having too much luck because I must have double stacked another set of magazines in front of them. Then I started wondering, how did I get to the point that I have so many books and magazines that I can’t find them? It’s not as if I have them hidden in boxes or storage units, they are mostly on bookshelves, though I do see some stacks on the floors.

   I started collecting magazines in 1956 and I still have the very first one that I bought off the newsstand: the February 1956 issue of Galaxy. I keep intending to frame it and hang it on the wall. So I’ve been at it now for 55 years and I guess that is how I now have so many magazines that I cannot find some of them. Each year I pick up more or start collecting another title that I’ve been thinking about reading. It all adds up as the years march on.

   When I bought the Galaxy I was hooked for life on science fiction. I was 13 and my allowance was $1.50 each week. Doesn’t sound like much but that’s $6.00 a month which enabled me to buy all the SF digests and paperbacks. I also had a job on Saturdays which paid me another $1.50 per week, cleaning a barbershop (sweeping floors, dusting bottles, cleaning the mirrors).

   Since the SF digests only cost 25 cents I was within my budget. But then in the summer of 1956 I discovered Manhunt and all of a sudden I had a cash flow problem. Manhunt had a lot of hardboiled crime competition from such titles as Pursuit, Hunted, Two Fisted, Offbeat, etc.

   This was the age of the digest revolution and the newsstands were full of the small fiction magazines. If you try and find the digests nowadays, you will realize we are at the end of the digest era and perhaps entering the days of the electronic magazine or e-book.

   As a lover of the physical books and magazines, this makes me very unhappy. The e-book looks pretty sorry next to the beautiful artifacts that I have been collecting for so many years. The feel of the physical book, the dust jacket, the smell of the pulp paper or digest, might soon disappear and be replaced by the humming of a electronic gadget.

   No e-book could have ever made me fall in love like I did when I saw my first Galaxy or Manhunt. We all know about the attractions of the SF covers but the Manhunt covers struck a deep sexual chord within my body. The brassy blondes, the shameless hussies, the girls about to be beaten, or something worse.

   Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough money to buy SF and crime digests, so after reading a few Manhunt’s, I had to reluctantly stop buying them. Fast forward about 20 years and now I have a job with more money to spend on collecting. But I also have the usual things like a wife, kids, mortgage, etc.

   Somehow I managed to squeeze out enough to put together a complete set of Manhunt, all 114 issues. By the way, the magazine is well known as just about the best of the hardboiled crime digests, lasting from 1953 to 1967, so this fact makes collecting the title a prime objective.

   For about 25 years I read many of the stories by Ed McBain, William Campbell Gault, Richard Prather, Ross Macdonald, etc. But then around the year 2000, I started to get annoyed by the amount of hours I was spending each day working at my job. I figured if I took early retirement, I could read and watch film noir movies all day long! I must have been wasting 10 hours a day working.

   So in order to make all this happen, I did some downsizing and made the mistake of selling my set of Manhunt’s. To make matters even worse, I sold it for only $500, which included the 12 very rare large sized issues.

   Now I began to question my sanity and judgment as a serious collector. I missed the magazine terribly and spend many years whining and complaining about my stupid decision to sell.

   A few years ago at Pulpcon I stumbled across an art dealer who had two of the 1956 original cover paintings used on Manhunt. I immediately bought both and hung them in my living room, despite the nervous complaints from my wife about the scenes showing women being strangled.

   The copies of the magazine came along with the paintings and I rapidly reread both, meanwhile muttering under my breath about mentally defective collectors who sell favorite magazines.

   So for over 10 years, I felt this regret eating away at me until finally this year at the Windy City pulp convention, my desire to rebuild the set burst forth. In a mere two hours, I had gone through 140 dealer’s tables like a buzzsaw and found 39 issues of Manhunt, or about 1/3 of the run.

   The price averaged about $11 or $12 each, some higher, some lower. Now, you would think that this would make me feel relieved and happy. No, not at all. I wanted the complete set of 114 issues. 39 issues were not enough, a mere drop in the bucket.

   Another blog that I follow, hosted by a collector like Steve Lewis who also loves books and magazines, was having to downsize his collection because he was selling his house. Normally he would never consider selling what he also thought was the greatest hardboiled crime digest.

   I made a good offer and he quickly accepted. Also included were the Manhunt companion digests such as Verdict, Murder, Menace, and Mantrap. He also threw in several Giant Manhunt’s, which rebound leftover issues, and the British version titled, Bloodhound.

   The condition was nice, especially the 12 large sized issues which are so rare. One problem was how to smuggle three large boxes into the house without my wife detecting the arrival of over 100 more magazines. The house is already sinking under the weight of thousands of books and magazines(I won’t even go into the subject of the thousands of DVDs).

   When the mailman delivered the boxes I quickly put them into the trunk of my car, giggling insanely at my clever actions. Then I slowly introduced them into the house and no one noticed because I’m always walking around with stacks of books or magazines.

   So ends another successful Adventure in Collecting. Welcome home Manhunt!