It must have been sometime around ten years ago that I discovered Rosemary Herbert’s excellent encyclopaedic work The Oxford Companion to Crime & Mystery Writing (Oxford University Press, 1999), loaded with a myriad of cross-references and ‘see also’ footnotes. For me, this book opened numerous avenues of further exploration within genre literature as well as being something of a mini education in various genre elements and associations.

    With a child-like sense of wonder, perhaps, it also induced me to visualise a television Crime & Mystery genre version. An exploration of the TV genre shaped in the book’s fascinating cross-reference format and structure. Instead of author entries, overviews of genre TV series.

    I went on to spend months compiling an outline and a book proposal. During this time I indulged in an almost fanatical research programme (rather prematurely) which, ultimately, resulted in several large cartons of documentation. But it also enriched my life with marathon viewings (via VHS/DVD) of previously unseen genre series.

    When the book proposal and chapter outline were complete, I pursued various possible media publishers. However, I soon discovered that these ‘media’ publishers (at least the London-based ones) seemed to barely have a grip on aspects of cinema history. That Television — genre television, at that — was considered not even a footnote in the grand scheme of things exploitable.

    Fortunately, Steve has very graciously allowed me to put some of this research and enthusiasm to use as an occasional series of observations on popular cycles and phases in the history of the TV Crime & Mystery genre.

    I intend to call it Prime Time Suspects (Crime & Mystery Television). For this on-line format I have revised (and greatly shortened) the draft of my original Introduction:

    It is a dangerous — and perhaps insane — undertaking to attempt to compress into a series of installments the history of a television genre as prolific and for the most part as rewarding as the Crime & Mystery. A genre that has enjoyed viewer popularity for over 60 years.

    The only thing that may be possible here is something of a bird’s eye view of the various TV forms and phases. My interest here will be to share a discussion of the series and programmes in this history, both in their relationship to their sources (literature, of course, as well as radio and cinema) along with the general evolution of the medium and its developing culture.

    There was a time when the approach to genre television tended to be structuralist, often dismissive. For instance, Tom Ryan, writing in Sight & Sound in 1976, noted that “Kojak, Columbo, Police Woman, Joe Forrester, S.W.A.T., Streets of San Francisco, and the others are seen to merge into each other, distinguishable only in terms of the different stars in each of the series.”

    Rather uncomfortably, this crude opinion sounds somewhat like the once held, blinkered view of the “Hollywood production factory” of cinema — until it was noticed (originally by French Cahiers critics, later exemplified by Andrew Sarris) that there were significant differences within the genres.

    One of the earliest writers to observe and evaluate aspects of television was Jack Edmund Nolan in his pioneering TV column in the pages of Films in Review magazine (running from around the mid 1960s).

    Nolan was perhaps the first to apply Sarris’ auteur theory to television, observing and analysing the small-screen work of directors ranging from Stuart Heisler to Sam Wanamaker (and, in one instance, even considered Roger Moore’s directorial excursions during production of The Saint series, ITV 1962-69).

    There can be no doubt that, taken in bulk, the genre series which concern us regularly tend to perpetrate distortions and omissions which have proved extremely galling to this writer’s critical generation. My contention, ultimately, is that many of the short-run, lesser-known series can be richer in nuance, in tension, in character and intricacy of plot, than they have been given credit for in the past.

    For instance, Ralph Meeker’s laconic military police investigator in Not for Hire (syndicated, 1959) and Roddy McMillan’s Glasgow private eye in The View from Daniel Pike (BBC, 1971-73) are more than equal to the acclaimed NCIS (CBS, 2003- ) and Baretta (ABC, 1975-78), respectively.

    It may be easy enough to summarize an epoch by selecting the most distinguished series, and concentrating thereon. But the manifest conveniences of this process have confirmed one of the principal distortions of TV criticism. The impression is conveyed that run-of-the-mill series never say anything, that vivid or insightful remarks or situations are a monopoly of a few prestigious individuals (the Stephen Bochco or Lynda La Plante productions, for example).

    Ranging from world-wide counter-espionage to the mean streets of the private investigator, the television law keeper is impelled by an almost idealistic world-view and a belief in justice, a commitment to order, and, at times, a sense of chivalry. The quest for justice underlies all of these activities; the plots follow a pattern of murder, corruption, and the establishment of a governing system to solve a puzzle and to return a sense of order to its citizens.

    Even though the genre has a strong tradition of unique conventions and the programmes themselves have been popular from the early days of broadcast television (the mid 1930s) to the present, a lack of attention may be the result of a certain confusion over precisely what comprises the TV genre. It has been described so narrowly as to include the police detective procedural exclusively, and so broadly as to encompass virtually any TV series featuring a crime.

    I would like to think that the occasional chapters that follow will take steps toward what may be an original definition of TV Crime & Mystery, emphasising the importance of the formal TV crime puzzle and its attendant characterisations and codes of behaviour.

    The TV genre includes not only police detectives but also similar related crime and mystery forms, such as adventurers, spies and investigative science experts. One of my central aims will be to demonstrate just how rich and rewarding these programmes can be in their own sub-divisions. I concluded eventually that only a mapping of the various sub-genres existing within the larger field could provide the overview I was looking for.

    Future installments will have me looking at, for example, the late 1950s Private Eye cycle (Peter Gunn, 77 Sunset Strip, etc.), the Prohibition Era Mob (The Untouchables, The Lawless Years, etc.), the New Age of Agatha Christie (UK television period 1980 to 1992), among many other genre cycles and forms.

       — Tise Vahimagi is currently the TV Database Editor for the British Film Institute.

WALTER TYRER – Such Friends Are Dangerous. Staples Press, UK, hardcover, 1954. 1st US publication: Garland Publishing, hardcover, 1983. Paperback reprint: Perennial, 1984.

   Recently while perusing Barzun & Taylor’s Catalogue of Crime I came across quite serendipitously the title of this book. I was tantalized by Barzun’s brief write-up, which promised something along the lines of an early Ruth Rendell or Minette Walters book.

   It also happened to be one of the starred titles indicating that Barzun reissued it in one of his two sets of “Top 50 Mystery Novels.” I immediately went looking for the book and was lucky to discover there was a copy at my local branch of the Chicago Public Library.

   The story deals with the investigation of the drowning death of Kitty Pinnock, the town tramp, who inveigled her way into the lives of nearly every man in town, taking from them what she wanted and discarding them when she found a new conquest.

   There are plenty of secrets uncovered from a multitude of characters and there are several suspects found among the discarded men Kitty left in her wake of seductive destruction. However, lingering in the background of the involved investigation is Helen Luton, a mousy housewife whose husband is one of Kitty’s abandoned projects, and Vera Sylvaine, Helen’s ultra-hip writer friend who constantly reminds Helen that she is undervalued and underappreciated by her husband.

   Mrs. Luton is painted as a buffoon by Tyrer, and the reader may wonder (as I did) why several chapters are devoted to her conversations with Vera who seems to be quite a bad influence despite her supposed good intentions. A clever reader may begin to glean the author’s intent, but I challenge anyone to come up with the genuine and fully accurate solution. For me it came as a jaw-dropping surprise.

   It’s been a long time since I audibly gasped when the solution was presented. I never saw it coming. That, I think, makes for an excellent writer who knows exactly what he is doing.

   Even if the surprise may be a trick used many times by modern writers, in the context of Tyrer’s story it still felt like the rug was pulled out from under me. Up till the final pages the book is a scathing satire on village life, so the reader is paying attention to all the gossip, all the deceit, the facades being ripped away by the police inspector and his accidental Watson, an intrusive reporter looking for his “big break.”

   There is quite a bit of legitimate detective work on the part of both the police inspector and the reporter, who at one point seems determined to solve the crime himself and who comes up with some very unusual ideas about how and why the crime was committed.

   While all this is going on Tyrer has something hidden up his sleeve which he presents almost on the final page when the murderer is unmasked and a horrifying secret is finally revealed.

   This is an excellent book by a man who spent his early career writing school boy adventures, moved on to short stories and novels, with the latter portion of his career split between magazine story writing and contributing several thrillers for the Amalgamated Press “Sexton Blake Library” series.

   Barzun in his intro to the reissue of Such Friends Are Dangerous disparagingly refers to Tyrer as a “writer of primarily juvenile adventures” and then goes on to insult that audience by calling the readers of such books “the simple minded.” (I take he didn’t think much of children as readers. Or am I misinterpreting that?)

   I find much of what Barzun has to say about the genre to be condescending or arrogant, often extremely shallow. For instance, he often misses obvious humor and modern sarcasm, and he definitely shows a limited spectrum of tastes in detective fiction.

   But those two potshots make me think that he was not only a snob but just plain old mean. In any case, I like to think that this book was a personal triumph for Walter Tyrer, as it appears to be his only foray in writing for a truly adult audience.

Editorial Comment:   I am somewhat surprised and even more chagrined to discover that I do not own a copy of this book. It can be obtained cheaply enough, but if you were to search it out, in all likelihood you would have to settle for the Perennial Library edition. There are 10 copies of the latter on ABE under $10 at the moment, but none of either hardcover.

JAMES CRUMLEY – The Mexican Tree Duck. C. W. Sughrue #2. Mysterious Press, hardcover, September 1993; reprint paperback, October 1994.

   What can you say about James Crumley that hasn’t been said before? No writer in the field has garnered so much critical attention for just three books, and a respectable number of respectable critics have lauded him as the best of the private eye writers.

   While considering him to be a powerful writer, I never shared that opinion, and in fact found it ludicrous. Nevertheless, I looked forward to reading this. I thought the first C. W. Sughrue book, The Last Good Kiss, was the best of his first three.

   C. W. hasn’t changed a whole lot, other than being middle-aged, now. He’s still rough as pine bark, and he’ll still have a drink or do a line with you, or whip your ass if it needs it. He’s hired by twins who own a fish store, overweight weapons freaks, to get their fish back from an outlaw biker that’s stiffed them on a check.

   In the process of doing that, he gets hired by the biker to find his mother. At least he thinks she’s his mother. Sound humorous? Not really. She’s a Mexican national married to a Texas oilman, and she’s been kidnapped.

   Before it’s over it’s turned to politics, drugs, and money, and Sughrue has hooked up with some Viet Nam buddies, taken on two or three governments, waged his own private war, fallen in love, and been in on the spilling of more blood than you could wipe up with a bale of tissues.

   Crumley’s prose is powerful, though I think not so much as in his earlier books. The characters are mostly of a type: the women crude, loving. tough, and ready, and the men cut from the same cloth as Sughrue himself — tough, violent, and abusers of any substance that’s inert enough to be abused.

   The improbable plot was just a framework, not terribly important to Crumley in comparison to what he had to say. Plotting never was his thing.

   This isn’t a detective novel. It’s a war story, or perhaps a paean to the brotherhood of warriors. It seems to me a book written by a man frozen in time, one not able to leave behind the world of war, drugs, and whiskey.

   There’s little here that speaks to me. To someone tortured by Crumley’s own demons it may be a fine novel, but to me it was just a sad waste of talent, not redeemed by the prose.

   The only message I got was that whiskey, drugs, and fighting are good, government and business are bad, and a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. In the end, I tired of the macho posturing and the gunfire, and there wasn’t much else to it.

      The “Milo” Milodragovitch series —

The Wrong Case (1975)

Dancing Bear (1983)
Bordersnakes (1996) [with C. W. Sughrue]
The Final Country (2001)

      The C. W. Sughrue series —

The Last Good Kiss (1978)
The Mexican Tree Duck (1993)
Bordersnakes (1996) [with Milo Milodragovitch]

The Right Madness (2005)

   Posted by me last Friday on this blog was an advance announcement of an essay by Paul Collins in today’s New York Times Book Review section, in which he revealed the identity of the hitherto unknown author of The Notting Hill Mystery, described as the world’s first detective novel. The book version was published in 1865, but before that, the novel had appeared in serialized form in Once a Week magazine, beginning with the November 29, 1862, issue.

   The identification of “Charles Felix” as Mr. Charles Warren Adams seems solid enough. It’s the characterization of The Notting Hill Mystery as the first detective novel that no longer is valid. When I reported the news on Yahoo’s FictionMags group, I received the following reply from well-known science fiction writer and historian Brian Stableford:

   My reply, somewhat shortened, was: Just to sure, if I may ask — definitions may be important here. Even though Jean Diable had a character who was a detective, it sounds as though the novel may have been a thriller rather than a detective story. The distinction may be more important to some than to others, I know.

   Brian’s response:

[UPDATE] 01-10-11.   I’ve been away from the computer most of the day, and I’m still in the process of going through the email this post has brought forth. Many of these emails, as well as the comments that have already been left, plus suggestions I have have seen elsewhere, have included other books that ought be be in the running as “the world’s first detective novel.”

   On the Yahoo FictionMags list, for example, Doug Greene said (and this is a very small excerpt from a longer post), “Many of the sensation novels from the early 1860’s come close to detection. A strong argument can be made that Mary Elizabeth Braddon’s The Trail of the Serpent (1861) is a detective story — perhaps the first full-length one.”

   Last October on this blog, in the midst of a flurry of lists of favorite and significant books from various eras, David Vineyard submitted “100 Important Books From Before the Golden Age,” a list of titles not all of which were intended to be Detective Novels, but each of which he felt were progenitors of the form in one way or another. It’s very much worth your going back to re-read it.

   While it’s awfully fun to try, attempts to name the first of almost anything historically are almost always doomed to failure, not in terms of obtaining universal agreement. I’m not convinced that anyone can say that any one book is a detective novel, and this other one, which came before it, is not, even if you have a definition everyone agrees with, an event which I suggest is next to impossible in and of itself.

   Literary history proceeds in incremental fashion, building on what came before, not quantum jumps.

[UPDATE #2.] 01-11-11. I received the following email from Paul Collins before I added the update above, but after he had seen Brian Stableford’s comments about Jean Diable, by Paul Féval:

Dear Steve:

    Many thanks for the links, and for the kind attention to the article!

    I first became interested in tracing The Notting Hill Mystery last spring, after a footnote in the OUP edition of The Moonstone got me curious about the mysterious Charles Felix.

    I am, perhaps, too quick to accept Symons’ snub of Féval, who seemed to regard Féval as a writer of “criminal romances.” Mr. Stableford’s perspective on this is certainly of interest, and I do hope that he may note Féval’s work in a letter to the editors.

    If I may hazard one potential line of inquiry: regardless of how these things are categorized, if Féval and Adams were indeed published just three months apart, that may be suggestive. Adams is also known to lived in France in the early 1860s, so perhaps he was reading Féval. Or maybe it was “in the air” — interesting timing, in any case!

          Best,

             Paul

ROCKY KING, DETECTIVE. (Original title: Inside Detective.) DuMont Television Network, January 14, 1950 – December 26, 1954. Cast: Inspector Rocky King: Roscoe Karns; Mabel King: voice of Grace Carney; Announcer: Ken Roberts; Sergeant Lane: Earl Hammer, 1950-1953; Sergeant Hart: Todd Karns (Roscoe’s son), 1953-1954.

   There once was a TV series about a befuddled homicide detective who wore an old raincoat he refused to replace and had a wife the audience never saw; that detective was Rocky King.

   Rocky King, Detective was a live half hour police mystery series on the DuMont network. Few remember DuMont, one of the original four TV networks (1946 to 1955 (or 1956)). Its lack of stations to reach enough viewers and a radio network to draw talent and dollars doomed the network to producing low budget, little seen programs.

   Perhaps the network’s most popular series, only a few episodes still exist on kinescope copies. The four episodes reviewed here are available to view for free at various websites such as Classic TV Archives. (See below.)

   Roscoe Karns, a veteran movie co-star, finally got his chance to play the lead. Rocky’s never seen wife Mabel was the scatterbrained female type. Each episode would feature a scene with Rocky at home talking to Mabel, often about their never seen or heard son, Junior. The show always ended with Rocky in his office calling Mabel. He hang up the phone and say, “Wonderful girl, that Mabel.”

   The domestic scenes were played for laughs and reportedly written by Karns who received a screen credit for “additional dialog”.

   The music by Jack Ward is a major distraction with over the top organ music more fitting for a bad melodrama.

   Considering its network limitations, Rocky King is a far better show than it should have been. The live broadcasts had the expected number of mistakes, but it didn’t stop the talent from taking risks and having fun.

   Live in the camera tricks such as split screen and creative dissolves between scenes were common. While the mystery and suspense was played straight, the writers and cast occasionally let less serious moments slip in, even breaking the fourth wall.

   In “One Minute For Murder,” Karns was sick and Earl Hammer as Sergeant Lane took over the mystery and scenes with Mabel. At the end Sergeant Lane reassured the viewers Rocky would be OK and would be back next week.

   The episodes reviewed:

● “Murder Scores a Knockout.” Aired July 13, 1952. Written: Carl Abrams. Directed: Lee Polk. Guest cast: Pete: Kem Dibbs; Edward: William Sharon; Viola: Henrietta Moore/ A magician is murdered as the three suspects search for a missing object.

● “The Hermit’s Cat.” Aired August 31, 1952. Written: Ed Morris. Directed: Wesley Kenney. Guest cast: Mark: Ed Peck; Norton: Frank Campanella; Mildred: Virginia Low. Millionaire who had refused to leave his home is found dead on a nearby highway.

● “Murder, Ph.D.” Aired December 14, 1953. Written: Frank Phares. Directed: Wesley Kenney. Guest Cast: Gerhart: Somer Alberg; Bartender: John Anderson; Alice: Anne Roberts. Mysterious phone caller repeatedly taunts Rocky that he is the real killer not the man about to be executed at midnight.

● “One Minute for Murder.” Air date unknown. Written: Carl Abrams. Directed: Wesley Kenney. Guest cast: Nora: Barbara Joyce; Mike: Steven Gethers; Helen: Mary Jackson. Blackmailing columnist is murdered in the leading lady’s dressing room during a performance.

   All four are included on one DVD easily available from Amazon, Oldies.com and other well-known online outlets.

   For those interested to learn more about Rocky King, Detective or the DuMont Television Network, I recommend two websites:

Classic TV Archives: http://ctva.biz.

Charles Ingram’s DuMont Television Network Historical website: http://www.dumonthistory.tv/index.html

    A few weeks ago on this blog I posted a review/essay by J. F. Norris of The Notting Hill Mystery (1865), a book considered by many to be the first detective novel ever written. When it was serialized in one of the magazines of the day, the author was noted as “Anonymous.” When it appeared later in hardcover, someone named Charles Felix was given credit.

    Who was Charles Felix? It’s been a mystery. “Felix” has long been known as a pen name, but who was the person behind the pseudonym? His was a name lost over the years, if it was ever known, and if so, forgotten by everyone since.

    But no longer. We now know who done it. In this Sunday’s New York Times Book Review section will be an essay by Paul Collins, who explains all:

   http://www.nytimes.com/2011/01/09/books/review/Collins-t.html?pagewanted=2&_r=1

    I won’t go into all of the detective work that Collins has done — you’ll have to read the full article to do that — but here’s the key paragraph:

    “I’d almost given up when I stumbled upon a Literary Gossip column in The Manchester Times for May 14, 1864. The sole identification of Charles Felix had lain there for 146 years, hidden in this single sentence: ‘It is understood that Velvet Lawn, [another book known to have been written by] by Charles Felix, the new novel announced by Messrs. Saunders, Otley & Co., is by Mr. Charles Warren Adams, now the sole representative of that firm.’”

   The entry for The Notting Hill Mystery on Wikipedia has been updated to include this information. A link to John’s review on this blog appears at the bottom of the Wiki page.

MARJORIE ALAN – Dark Prophecy. M.S. Mill, hardcover, 1945. Hardcover reprint: Detective Book Club, 3-in-1 edition, December 1945. Originally published in the UK as Masked Murder (Hale, hc, 1945).

   Chapter 1:   “Of course, Valerie thought, as she laid it [the letter] down, she wouldn’t go.”

   Chapter 2:   “Directly she got into the train at Paddington she knew that she ought not to go to Wayfarers. Knew in a clear, definite premonitory flash, as unmistakably as though someone had spoken the words…”

   Had I but known, I wouldn’t have begun the book. But unlike our heroine, I at least was wise enough not to undertake this perilous journey.

       Bibliography:     [Adapted from the Revised Crime Fiction IV, by Allen J. Hubin.]

MARJORIE ALAN.   Pseudonym of Doris Marjorie Bumpus, 1905- .

    Masked Murder. Hale 1945. US edition: Dark Prophecy, Mill 1945.
    Murder in November. Hale 1946. US edition: Rue the Day, Mill 1946.
    Murder Next Door. Hale 1950.
    The Ivory Locket. Hale 1951.

    Murder at Puck’s Cottage. Hale 1951.
    Dark Legacy. Hale 1953.
    Murder Looks Back. Hale 1955.
    Murder in a Maze. Hale 1956.

Editorial Comments:   This is essentially all I have learned about the author. One online source adds a birthplace (in England), but no one seems to have even a year of death for her.

    Confession time. I have not been posting all of Bill Deeck’s fanzine reviews I come across, generally choosing not to use any that are as short and dismissive as this one is. I’ve made an exception this time. Even though it’s short and dismissive, it’s also one (in my opinion) that gives a honest description and evaluation of the book.

    If you can’t get an idea of what the novel’s about in these 150 words or so, and whether you’d like it or not, I don’t think another thousand would help. You be the judge!

TESS GERRITSEN – Ice Cold. Ballantine Books, hardcover, June 2010; reprint paperback: April 2011.

Genre:   Police procedural. Leading characters:   Rizzoli & Isles; 8th in series. Setting:   Wyoming.

First Sentence:   She was the chosen one.

    Medical Examiner Maura Isles, in Wyoming for a medical conference, takes off on an impromptu ski weekend with a former college friend, his daughter and another couple. Faulty GPS directions and a blizzard, leaves them lost, stranded and one of the group with a life-threatening injury.

    Seeking shelter, they find the village of Kingdom Come where, in spite of signs that people lived there very recently, everyone has disappeared. Her friend, who leaves to seek help, disappears and it’s up to Maura to brave the winter.

    In Boston, Det. Jane Rizzoli is informed her friend, Maura, died in a car accident and fire. Jane travels to Wyoming with her FBI-agent husband and finds the more they learn, the more things seem wrong. What has really happened and just who are the bad guys?

    I must remember the lesson of never starting a Tess Gerritsen book in the evening as I did not put this book down until I’d finished it at 4 a.m. So I write this review being sleep deprived.

    By the eighth book in a series, some authors forget a reader may be picking this up as a first book. Not true here. The essential background information for each character is incorporated into the flow of the story. We know who these characters are and understand their relationships.

    The only character for whom that is not true is the rather mysterious and enigmatic Anthony Sansone, introduced in The Mephisto Club, yet that lack of definition felt deliberate and didn’t bother me.

    Both Jane and Maura are smart, strong, capable women while having a more vulnerable side making their portrayals realistic. Gerritsen’s ability to convey setting and conditions not only provide a strong sense of place but add to the tension of her books. When it’s cold, you reach for a blanket; when you’re in an autopsy, you want to look away but can’t.

    She also expresses emotion incredibly well; anger, fear, uncertainty, being overwhelmed by fatigue — they are all made tangible. The plot touches on many issues relevant to recent news. Those issues are handled factually and informatively. As always, Ms. Gerritsen’s medical and forensic knowledge is apparent. If find myself fascinated but admit it is not always for the weak of stomach.

    Her ability to create a feeling of danger and suspense keeps you turning the pages. I was certainly never able to predict the “who” and “why” behind the events.

    I do have one criticism. I kept having the feel Ms. Gerritsen’s original book was much longer and she was forced to trim it down. Whether this was the reason, it had a choppy feel to many of the transitions between scenes. The flow I would like to have seen just wasn’t there.

    While I personally prefer Ms. Gerritsen’s standalone thrillers, this was a book I very much enjoyed. It’s the perfect weekend or airplane read and I look forward to the next case of Rizzoli and Isles.

Rating:   Good Plus.

Editorial Comments:   For a list of all of Tess Gerritsen’s suspense novels, complete with covers for most of them, check out the Fantastic Fiction website.

   I watched the first two episodes of the Rizzoli & Isles TV show on TNT, and was favorably impressed. Not enough to put up with logos, commercials and the constant clutter on the screen while you’re trying to watch, but enough so that I plan on buying the first season on DVD as soon as it comes out. Did anyone else keep up with the series?

   Here’s my contribution to the lists that are popping up now that 2010 is over. I read nearly 100 books last year but not even half of them were vintage detective novels. I’ll have to rectify that this year.

   The list is in chronological order and not ranked because I can’t ever put my likes in numerical order or even apply letter grades. I did, however, add some highly opinionated comments after most of the titles to give you an idea of how much I liked or disliked a book.

   Titles in BOLD were excellent and entertaining on all levels. All of those titles are well worth seeking out. Good luck with finding them though, as nearly all are out of print and scarce in the used book trade. The stinker books (and there were quite a few) are at the bottom of the list after the row of asterisks.

   â— The Red Lady – Anthony Wynne. (Impossible crime with a clever gimmick that fooled me. How could I not see that one coming?)

   â— The Chinese Orange Mystery – Ellery Queen. (A re-read for me.)

   â— The Curse of the Bronze Lamp – Carter Dickson.

   â— The House Without a Key – Earl Derr Biggers. (First ever time I read a Charlie Chan book. Rather surprisingly good.)

   â— The Emperor’s Snuff Box – John Dickson Carr. (Brilliant! Why has it never been filmed? Would work beautifully on screen. Very Rear Window like, plus many cinematic sequences.)     [FOOTNOTE.]

   â— The Horseman of Death – Anthony Wynne. (One of his dull ones. Went on and on and on. Ugh.)

   â— About the Murder of a Man Afraid of Women – Anthony Abbot. (One of the better Thatcher Colt books, heavy on action in the last third. You learn a lot about ballistics in his one. Truly a surprising ending. I gasped, believe it or not.)

   â— The Ghost Hunters – Gordon Meyrick. (Short stories about an occult detective, all supernatural elements with the exception of one story are rationalized. Mediocre. One story was like a “Scooby Doo” cartoon in print.).

   â— The Greek Coffin Mystery – Ellery Queen. (Another re-read. Ellery’s lectures and overall pedanticism are annoying to me now. I think I loved them when I read them as a teenager.)

   â— The Witness at the Window – Charles Barry. (Silly, but entertaining in a Gun in Cheek kind of way. Has a secondary, French-speaking detective who appears in the last half of the book who is obviously a Poirot parody.)

   â— Poison Unknown – Charles Dutton. (More of an action thriller. From Dutton’s later period when he abandoned his scientific detective John Bartley in favor of the youthful Harley Manners who tended to resort to traps and gimmicks when unmasking the killer.)

   â— The Cleverness of Mr. Budd – Gerald Verner.

   â— All Fall Down – L.A. G. Strong. (Trenchant wit, good plot, forgotten writer whether as a mainstream novelist, short story writer or detective story writer. Well worth tracking down all of his detective novels. Also his supernatural short stories.)

   â— Murder of a Chemist – Miles Burton. (Extremely rare book. I read it then sold it online for an outrageous sum. Email me for details if you’re curious about the sale. The book is not really worth reading though.)

   â— Tragedy on the Line – John Rhode. (The early Rhode’s are surprisingly good, IMO. Rhode gets a bad rap as one of the dreary writers, but he often is entertaining. Sometimes ingenious.)

   â— The Claverton Mystery – John Rhode. (Surely one of his best, near brilliant.).

   â— Into the Void – Florence Converse. (Odd little book about bootlegging in a New England village, has a quasi impossible crime plot, more interesting as a study in the American village as microcosm than as a detective story.)

   â— Death on Tiptoe – R.C. Ashby. (I loved this! But I have a penchant for Gothic elements in the detective novel. My review for this book can be found here.)

   â— Out of the Darkness – Charles Dutton. (Author’s first book, underrated writer. He wrote a handful of books that deal with the psychopathology of multiple murderers long before anyone was writing about demented serial killers. This one deals remarkably well with the after effects of shell shock.)

   â— The Crooked Cross – Charles Dutton. (Once again emphasis on the psychopathology of murder. Fundamentalist Christian beliefs lead to mania.)

   â— The Lava Flow Murders – Max Long. (See my review here for more on this book.)

   â— Cue for Murder – Helen McCloy. (Near brilliant. Title serves as a huge clue. Basil Willing and McCloy never really get their due when discussing the cream of the crop of the Golden Age. She is definitely overlooked, IMO. Also book is spot on with the theater background — one of the best theater mysteries of any era. Really understands the actor mentality.)

   â— Streaked with Crimson – Charles Dutton. (Yet another crazed serial killer with an interesting motive.)

   â— Murder, M.D. – Miles Burton. (Overrated; most of book is dull, surprise ending is not really much a surprise for a savvy contemporary reader.)

   â— He Arrived at Dusk – R.C. Ashby. (Her best detective novel. Gripping with a Du Maurier like mastery of misdirection in the narration. Read my full review here.)

   â— The Joss – Richard Marsh. (More a supernatural thriller but with a smidgen of a detective plot that recurs throughout.)

   â— The Shade of Time – David Duncan. (Impossible crime novel, not one of my favorites due to an insulting misunderstanding of what a transvestite is in the latter portion of the book.)

   â— Murder Takes the Veil – Margaret Ann Hubbard. (Great setting: a convent school in the Louisiana bayou; story was like a bad Phyllis Whitney plot though.)

   â— The Notting Hill Mystery – Anonymous or Charles Felix. (Innovative, clever and thoroughly original – especially since it was published in 1863! My critical essay appears here earlier on this blog.)

   â— Death at Swaythling Court – J. J. Connington. (His first detective novel. Much of it seems like a parody of the genre in the first half. Entertaining, lively with an intricate and satisfying plot.)

   â— Such Friends Are Dangerous – Walter Tyrer . (Whopper of an ending. Took me completely by surprise. A little masterpiece. Succeeds as both a scathing satire of British village life circa 1955 and as a devilish detective novel. By a writer who mainly wrote adventure thrillers for the Amalgamated Press syndicate.)

   â— Candidate for Lilies – Roger East. (Underrated writer, excellent plotter, literate style. This one has a truly poignant ending for a detective novel. Borders on true tragedy in the classic Greek sense.)

   â— The Case of the Constant Suicides – John Dickson Carr. (This makes many “Best of Carr” lists. I found it to be more farce than detective novel, even with its gimmicky plot. The character of the staunch Catholic Scottish woman had me laughing out loud on the subway train several evenings.)

   â— Rough Cider – Peter Lovesey. (Brilliant! Surely one of Lovesey’s best if not his best of all time.)

   â— Murder Rehearsal – Roger East. (Mystery novelist’s plot idea seems to be the model for a real killer’s handiwork. Gets a bit convoluted in the middle, but worth seeking out. He can write!)

   â— The Lord of Misrule – Paul Halter. (Disappointing. I figured out how the killer left no footprints because the main clue was obviously planted and is also a blatant anachronism for the Victorian era in which the book is supposedly set. Also bothered by servants who were treated as members of the family — talk about lack of verisimilitude! They were allowed to take part in the seance? Never! I wanted to be surprised and delighted, but was not. I guess he’s hit and miss. For me this was a big miss.)

       Books You Would Be Wise to Avoid:

   â— The Watcher – Gerald Verner. (Pedestrian plot, lackluster writing, stock characters.)

   â— The River House Mystery – Gerald Verner. (I have no problem revealing to you that the butler did it in this one. Seriously! Utterly dreadful.)

   â— The Screaming Portrait – Ferrin Fraser. (Absurd and contrived from beginning to end. On the first page we are told that the narrator had been tiger hunting — in South Africa! I should’ve thrown the book in the trash then and there.)

   â— The Case of the Scared Rabbits – George Bellairs. (Very scarce book, but one of his worst plots. Not worth seeking out)

   â— Red Rhapsody – Cortland Fitzsimmons. (My first and probably last Fitzsimmons book. Ludicrous plot, high body count and laughable solution. Also, another insulting treatment of a gay man from the 1930s. Blecch.)

FOOTNOTE / Editorial Comment:   After John’s list appeared first on Yahoo’s Golden Age of Detection list, Bob Houk pointed out that:

    “The Emperor’s Snuff Box was made into a movie in 1957, called The Woman Opposite or City after Midnight. Here’s the IMDB entry:

    “http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0051071/.”

   Apparently a British production, the film’s two stars were Phyllis Kirk and Dan O’Herlihy, and it was released in the US by RKO Radio Pictures. It has come out commercially on VHS but (so far) not on DVD. It should be findable, but (after a quick search), I haven’t yet.

    For Part Four of this series, go here.

13. “Winter Run.” Originally appeared in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, January 1965. Reprinted in Alfred Hitchcock: The Best of Mystery, Galahad Books, hardcover, no editor stated, 1980.

   Johnny Kendell is on the run — from himself. After he has tragically gunned down an old bum, Johnny quits the force instead of facing a departmental inquest and leaves town with his fiancée, Sandy. Anywhere will do.

   Within a week, they settle in a new town, and Johnny, seeking work but finding none, reluctantly accepts the job of deputy sheriff. At first, things go well — until he runs afoul of Milt Woodmann, the former deputy and a real womanizer. When Woodman begins making moves on Sandy, Johnny’s trigger finger starts getting itchy again ….

    “Winter Run” was filmed (as “Off Season”) for The Alfred Hitchcock Hour (first aired 10 May 1965, the last show of the series), and is available here on Hulu.

14. “Warrior’s Farewell.” Originally appeared in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, August 1967. Reprinted in Alfred Hitchcock: The Best of Mystery (see above).

   The unnamed narrator reads in the newspaper about the death of an old Korean War buddy and flashes back to the war and what his pal did, executing summary justice on an enemy POW — no trial, just gunning him down.

   After the war, their lives intersect several times, and the narrator gradually comes to understand that his old buddy is still meting out justice — one bullet at a time ….

15. “A Melee of Diamonds.” Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, April 1972. Reprinted in Alfred Hitchcock: The Best of Mystery (see above).

   It has all the earmarks of a classic smash-and-grab: break the glass, ignore the alarms, and scoop up as many precious stones as possible before security gets there. In the middle of all this confusion, a policeman gets clubbed to the pavement, but a Concerned Citizen manages to pursue and capture the thief anyway.

   The kicker in this scenario, however, is that the malefactor doesn’t have the diamonds, worth $58,000, anywhere on him or in him — yes, they actually X-ray the guy — or anywhere along his escape route. Even the Concerned Citizen gets searched: no joy.

   Captain Leopold is baffled, a condition he thoroughly hates, when he gets an unexpected break while he’s buying a can of coffee ….