I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to see both of these:

ANNE PERRY – Death in Focus. Elana Stanford #1. Ballantine, hardcover, September 2019. Setting: Europe, 1933.

First Sentence:   Elena narrowed her eyes against the dazzling sunlight reflected off the sea.

   On a vacation in Italy with her sister Margot, Elena Stanford meets Walter Mann and Ian Newton. An immediate attraction causes Elena to go with Ian to Berlin after a message compels him there. A shocking event and a request from Ian sends Elena on to Berlin, and into a danger from which she may not escape.

   Anne Perry masterfully sets the stage, lulling one into a sense of elegance, music and possible romance. How effectively she dispels one of that notion. She describes the emotional environment of the time, –“Fifteen years after the war, everyone still had their griefs: loss of someone, something, a hope or an innocence, if not more. And fear of the future.” –conveying the almost frenetic gaiety and desperation for emotional connection so well.

   Perry is such an evocative writer, and her characters are dimensional and interesting, but it’s her perspective which causes one to pause, consider and want to share what one has read with others. She also understands pacing; taking one seamlessly from tranquility into the threat of danger.

   The story is told from several POVs. One may smile at the timelessness and dismissiveness with which the younger generation considers the older one, and of Elena’s brother’s view of her talent and ambition. Elena’s resourcefulness, strength, and determination; a hallmark of Perry’s female characters, is impressive even though one may question the suddenness of Elena’s decisions.

   There is great lyricism to Perry’s writing, particularly in her descriptions of nature, yet there is also a touch of pathos. In 1933, one is witnessing the rise of Hitler, Mussolini’s move toward fascism. It is somewhat painful to realize how much of the 1930s are reflected in that which is happening today. The book does have a strong historical and political message. While some may object and possibly be offended, others may decide to learn from it –”Hitler is either assuming more power for himself or appointing bloody awful men to do it for him.”

   It is Perry’s description of those who have been in a war and suffer from what we now know as PTSD, and her portrait of the time’s events—”The violence is increasing, and the oppression. They’re building camps to put prisoners in, not people who’ve committed crimes, but people who are born guilty of being …” that truly brings to bear the reminder that the more things change, the more they stay the same.

   When Perry switches gears, it is sudden, surprising, and very effective. She triggers our suspicions and then makes us question them.

   The plot isn’t perfect. There are points of repetitiveness, a lack of focus, and what feels to be plot holes. The female characters are occasionally too trusting, but that’s part of the plot. On the other hand, there is excellent suspense and a very effective sense of danger. One has a real sense of the fear people experienced during this time. Elena’s determination to photograph the events she witnesses, and then to keep the film safe, were a strong element one hope to see continued. One must give Perry credit for making this time in Berlin painfully real and for teaching us details of history we’ve not known.

   Death in Focus is a somewhat painful, but highly relevant read. It does contain a well-done red herring, and a wicked twist leading to a very good ending.

Rating: Good Plus.

   The dictionary definition of “serendipity” describes it as the happy quality of finding desirable objects quite by accident. To give an example, here, reviewed below. are two works of detective fiction which I accidentally read back to back, a chance occurrence which may stretch the definition only a small amount, is as fine a double introduction into the parallel worlds of fine arts and antiques as you could find anywhere.

   As in most endeavors, involved here are levels of expertise and familiarity that those of us on the lower echelons are only vaguely aware of. It always comes with no little satisfaction, not to mention fascination, whenever we’re given the chance like this to pick the brains of even a fictional expert, no matter what field.

EDWIN LEATHER – The Duveen Letter. Robert Conway #3. Doubleday/Crime Club, hardcover, 1980. Pinnacle, paperback, 1981. Originally published in the UK by Macmillan London, hardcover, 1980.

   Take this book. In it the renown Viennese art dealer Robert Conway is flown all the way to New York City to assist in authenticating a priceless collection of Renaissance oils. Minute details, such as a given artist’s technique in painting ears and hands, or the texture of such objects in the background as trees are said to have exposed more forgeries than any ultra-modern laboratory technician has ever done.

   There is another puzzle for Conway to decipher, however, and that is why an apparently genuine painting should come with an entirely phony letter of authentication. The trail leads him back to Paris, where his diligence is responsible for uncovering yet another of those so many tragic tales still the European legacy of World War II.

   Another strand of the plot concerns the attempted defection of an East German SSD officer to the West. On a purely story level, the two halves of the tale run headlong together and are intermeshed only with a noticeably strong dose of coincidence. Too much of too little action seems also to occur offstage. The urbane Mr. Conway, who has appeared in both of Mr. Leather’s previous mysteries, gets his feathers ruffled only just a little this time.

  JONATHAN GASH – The Grail Tree. Lovejoy #3. Harper & Row, US, hardcover, 1980. Dell/Scene of the Crime, paperback, 1982. Originally published in the UK by Collins, hardcover, 1979.

   In absolute contrast, there is Lovejoy, of Lovejoy Antiques, Inc., the scruffy hero of sorts of two previous detective novels written by Jonathan Gash. Here he is again, and somehow still managing to scrape by, both in business and his many and varied love affairs.

   Lovejoy has, nevertheless, an inborn instinct for the authentic antique — a little bell rings somewhere at the merest sniff of one — a handy knack to have, too, since England is apparently awash with myriads of fine imitations being merrily produced every minute of the day by scores of skilled, industrious craftsmen.

   In the guise of guiding a young apprentice-assistant named Lydia into the many intricacies of his profession, Lovejoyy casually tells us in passing all there is to know, and certainly more than we are ever likely appreciate, about Seraton wine tables, Hepplewhite elbow chairs, Regency silverware, and (as the ads would say) much, much more.

   Unfortunately, some endless hugger-mugger about some not-so-splendid Satsuma vases slows the tempo down considerably, and keeping track of our hero’s motley group of fellow dealers is a requirement that gradually becomes more and more of a chore.

   Lovejoy is a character of no great outward appeal, but he knows his business, and his zealous devotion to it is all but enough to make acceptable the rest of his warted personality. It should be noted, however, that it will strictly those of the male chauvinistic persuasion whom the ending, a mildly happy fantasy of sort, will please the most.

Steve, From the videos you choose to show us on your blog, you and I seem to have a lot of the same tastes in music. I wanted to know if you have ever listened to Kirsty Maccoll, and mainly her Tropical Brainstorm album. She’s an English girl singing Spanish tunes, and for some reason the whole album works. The most famous song from it is “In These Shoes.”

   Sad story, this album was released to great reviews and she ended up dying in a boating accident several months later.

   I just had a friend borrow my CD and tell me how much he enjoyed her music, so when I was listening to the Marianne Faithfull song you posted, I thought of you, and hope you enjoy it. The rest of the album is great, but I’m not sure if any or all of the other songs are online.

   I’ve not seen a James Bond movie since Casino Royale, the first one in which Daniel Craig had the starring role. I don’t see anything in this one that appeals to me, either, but there’s plenty of time for me to change my mind about that.

TOMBSTONE TERRITORY “Gunslinger from Galeville.” ABC, 16 Oct 1957. 30 min. Cast: Pat Conway (Sheriff Clay Hollister), Richard Eastham (Harris Claibourne of the Tombstone Epitaph / Narrator), Thomas B. Henry, Gilman Rankin. Guest Cast: Robert Foulk, Brett King, Carol Kelly. Writer: Andy White. Director: Eddie Davis.

   The first two seasons of Tombstone Territory aired on ABC; the third and final season were shown in syndication only (ZIV). Each episode was supposedly based on a true story published in the Tombstone Epitaph in the 1880s. Only Richard Eastham, the publisher, and Pat Conway as Sheriff Clay Hollister were in all 91 episodes. No one else appeared more than a handful of times.

   Even though the story itself is a rather fanciful one, the first episode, “Gunslinger from Galeville,” is a good one. Determined to collect taxes from everyone in the county, Hollister co-opts the services of outlaw Curly Bill Brocius (Robert Foulk) to help persuade certain recalcitrants to pay up.

   It’s not easy, of course. The members of Curly Bill’s gang don’t know what’s come over their boss. One in particular holds a personal grudge against the sheriff, and lots of gunplay is the result. Curly Bill Brocius returned for a couple more episodes, but this was the only time that Carol Kelly appeared, as the owner of a small store in outlaw territory.

   Pat Conway had a decent career in TV, mostly in westerns, but this series was his only steady job. He’s both tough and steady in this one, and he displays a small sense of humor along with the other two attributes — that plus being a fine hand with a gun. Richard Eastham was solid enough as the editor/publisher/narrator, but mostly he acts a well-established witness who is otherwise only along for the ride.

THE BRIDE AND THE BEAST. Allied Artists, 1958). Charlotte Austin, Lance Fuller, Johnny Roth, William Justine, and Ray “Crash” Corrigan as “Spanky.” Written by Adrian Weiss and Ed Wood Jr. 2nd Unit/Assistant director: Harry Fraser. Photographed by Roland Price. Directed by Adrian Weiss.

   A classic in the annals of bad movies, with screen creds to go with it.

   Readers here recognize Ed Wood’s name at once, but how many can recall Roland C. Price “the Vagabond Cameraman” who made Lash of the Penitentes (1936) at some risk to his life? Likewise, Ray Corrigan made his name in B Westerns and Jungle movies, but Harry Fraser wrote, produced and/or directed scores of them – all terrible.(See my reference to both gentlemen here. And speaking of credits, I just wish I could name the old tiger-hunt movie that died so this film could live.

   Let’s get the plot out of the way first — which is more than the movie does. As the story opens, newlyweds Laura (Charlotte Austin) and Dan (Lance Fuller) indulge in some circular, pointless dialogue (a trademark of Ed Wood’s prose style.) en route to his castle/menagerie where the only animal seems to be a gorilla (Ray “Crash” Corrigan”) kept in a cage in a dungeon-like room — there’s a refrigerator, but it’s lit by torches; architecture for Ed Wood was more about mood than function.

   Anyway, Laura finds herself strangely attracted to the ape, and he to her. So much so that he breaks out of his cage, invades the nuptial chamber (with its twin beds) and is quickly shot dead by Dan.

   The next day, Dan calls in his Psychologist-buddy (named Dr Carl Reiner, and yes, her name is Laura, but the Dick Van Dyke show was still a few years away.) to see why his bride is so upset (!), and the Doc immediately suspects it has something to do with a past life. Before you can say “Bridey Murphy,” he hypnotizes Laura and regresses her to a past life where she was a gorilla running through scenes from old jungle movies.

   Next thing we know, Dan & Laura are on their Honeymoon, on safari in Africa (“Get some rest. Tomorrow we’ll be in Gorilla country.”) and….

   â€¦And then the Gorillas go on sabbatical or something so we can watch another movie. Producer Weiss, an old hand with stock footage, throws in a line about tigers escaping from a shipwreck, the extras start wearing turbans and saris, and we spend the next half hour with Dan hunting tigers and trying to look like the guy in the other movie. Getting back to this movie, the gorillas don’t return till the last ten minutes, when they abduct Laura and carry her off to Bronson Canyon, that elephant’s graveyard of cheap movies, where Dan catches up and….

   â€¦and I don’t want to spoil it for you. But I will say that Charlotte Austin is a much better actress than one should expect in a mess like this. There are times she even convinces me that she’s haunted by her inner ape, just like it says there in the script. I’m not saying she’s another Ethel Barrymore, but I will observe that it’s easier to be convincing amid the splendor at MGM than in the squalor of Bronson Canyon.

   Maybe Ms Austin’s to blame for it, but Bride/Beast just misses slipping easily into the so-bad-it’s-good bracket. Or perhaps I expected too much from a film with this pedigree. At any rate, Bride is firmly in the fun-if-you’re-in-the-mood rankings, and on that level I can recommend it highly.

FLETCHER FLORA “Loose Ends.” Novelette. Percival ‘Percy’ Hand. First published in Manhunt, August 1958. Reprinted in The Second Pulp Crime Megapack (Wildside Pres, Kindle edition, 2016).

   Fletcher Flora had one only series character in a long career of crime fiction writing, a policeman by the name of Lt Joseph Marcus, who appeared in six stories for the digest mystery magazines of the 1950s. He missed a bet, though, in not writing another story about Percy Hand. “Loose Ends” is a good one.

   He’s hired In this one by Faith Salem, a very good looking woman, especially while tanning herself outside on her terrace. It seems as though he’s thinking of becoming wife number four to man with whom she presently has an understanding. She is wondering, though, why wife number three just suddenly disappeared without a trace. The police didn’t work very hard on the case, though, since the man she presumably was having an affair with disappeared at exactly the same time.

   What Faith Salem wants Percy Hand to do is the obvious. Find out what really happened. And so he does, with adeptness and efficiency. Roots in the past are involved, as is true for a good percentage of all good PI stories.

   And not only is Hand very good at his job, but author Fletcher Flora is also very impressive as a wordsmith whose words I ought to have reading all this time, and I’m sorry to say that I haven’t.

   Some examples:

   And:

   One more. Percy has gone to see the missing man’s brother, a high class gangster. In the room is Robin Robbins (not her real name):

THREE CAME TO KILL. United Artists, 1960. Cameron Mitchell, John Lupton, Steve Brodie, Lyn Thomas. Director: Edward L. Cahn.

   The benchmark for movies such as this — a family being held hostage by a gang of killers planning to assassinate some high government official — is probably Suddenly, the film released in 1954 in which Frank Sinatra’s target is the President of the US. [My review of that film can be found here.]

   Even though that earlier film is much more well-known, I found myself enjoying this one a whole lot more. The target is the head of some small (fictitious) Middle-Eastern country who is about to fly out of the US from the Los Angeles airport> The reason this film is a lot more believable and suspenseful (if those two qualities are not one and the same) is that Cameron Mitchell and Steve Brodie look exactly like the kind of guys who might be hired could carry out such an assignment. Tough and professional all the way.

   It goes without saying– doesn’t it? — that they do get tripped up, but their plan is a good one, and they do come awfully close to carrying it out. This is a low budget film, but it’s still an enjoyable one, with one caveat I can’t help but mention. Whoever had the final say on this film must have thought the viewership was going to consist of folks with movie IQ’s of less than 80. All the ever present voice-over narration managed to do is to repeat in detail what was plain as day to see on the screen.