LUKE SHORT – The Whip. Bantam #1668, paperback original, 1957. Reprinted by Bantam several times. Also: Dell, paperback, 1992.  Previously published as a magazine serial; see below.

   A short note after the copyright page tells us the first two-thirds of this was serialized in Colliers until that magazine went out of business, then the remainder was picked up by The Saturday Evening Post  as a tribute to a fallen competitor. And to finish off a crackling fine yarn. (**)

   Said yarn is of Will Gannon, the kind of tough westerner best suited to books like this, who, as the story opens, commandeers a stagecoach from a drunken driver, gets it safely to town, and ends up appointed District Manager of a stretch of road rife with robbery, murder, slack discipline and bad food.

   The charm of this book is Luke Short’s ability to sketch out a tale of sudden violence against a background of the day-to-day work of running a business. He fills it in with a well-drawn cast of characters — mostly standard Western types, but well-drawn as such — and a convincing landscape for horses and men to travel and battle in.

   But as I say, what makes The Whip work is the balance Luke Short strikes between Gannon’s workaday chores and the escalating violence engineered by the ne’er-do-wells he’s replaced. Short builds carefully, effectively, to a prolonged chase and a grim conclusion that rings true.

   Definitely one for Western fans to check out!

      ___

(**) Steve and I have identified the first two parts of the three part serial:

     “Doom Cliff,” (serial) Collier’s Dec 21 1956, Jan 4 1957 [last issue]

   But the third and final installment supposedly published in The Saturday Evening Post has eluded us. Is the statement in the paperback edition incorrect? Have we missed something?

UPDATE: Mystery solved, thanks to the very kind assistance of pulp master Sai Shankar. See Comment #3.

CHANDLER: Stories & Early Novels and CHANDLER: Later Novels & Other Writings.  Two-volume set. Library of America, hardcover, 1995.

   If you, like me, think that any mystery collection is inadequate and incomplete without the works of Raymond Chandler; and you, like me, have acquired his books in mass paperback because you couldn’t afford them in hard covers; and you, like me, have harbored a forlorn wish to have them in a more permanent and respectable yet not outrageously expensive form; then here is what we’ve both been waiting for.

   Since 1982 the Library of America, “an award-winning, non-profit publishing program dedicated to publishing America’s greatest writers in handsome, enduring volumes,” has been doing just that, and the Chandler set makes up the 80th and 81st volumes they have issued.

   In the two volumes you’ll find all of Chandler’s novels, the thirteen short stories that he did not later incorporate into a novel, selected essays and letters, and the screenplay he wrote with Billy Wilder for Cain’s Double Indemnity. The 1199 and 1076 page  volumes also each include notes and an excellent updated chronology of Chandler’s life by Frank McShane.

   These are superbly produced books that bring the essence and essential works of Chandler together in an accessible and affordable form. At $35 the volume they represent as  fine a value as you’re likely to find in the field in these days of $24 first novels and $7 paperbacks.  If you don’t already own Chandler in hardcovers — and how many of us do? — you need to own these.

      Have a great day, everyone!

EDEN PHILLPOTTS – “Found Drowned”. Hutchinson, UK, hardcover, 1931. Macmillan, US, hardcover, 1931.

   When an itinerant musician is found dead in a cave near Daleham, the local police inspector and his friend, a retired doctor, differ  about the case, The medical man takes it on himself to investigate what appears to be a simple case of suicide.

   The search leads to the household of Sir Max Fordham, to a vanished dealer in antiques, and then to a serious question of identity. With a little help from Inspector Forbes, Dr. Meredith brings the case to a happy conclusion.

   If we suspect that he has more good luck attending his footsteps than most detectives can boast, well, it’s his first case and perhaps he’s entitled to beginner’s luck!

Bibliographic Note: In spite of Maryell’s hint that either Dr. Meredith and/or Inspector Forbes may have had further cases to investigate, there is nothing known to me to suggest they ever did. [Steve]

CRIME ON THE HILL. British International Pictures, UK, 1933. Sally Blane, Sir Nigel Playfair, Lewis Casson, Phyllis Dare, Anthony Bushell. Screenplay by Vera Allison, E. M. Delafield, Bernard Vorhaus, Michael Hankinson. Based on a play by Jack Celestin and Jack DeLeon. Directed by Bernard Vorhaus.

   This little sleeper does show its age, but is a handsomely shot and intelligent old fashioned Golden Age fair play mystery with several nice touches that add up to a fairly taut and effecting ending and a genuine Great Detective moment done as nicely as I have ever seen,  as a series of rapid flashbacks point out the things we may have missed or failed to properly give weight to, rather than a talky boring rehash of the case at a gathering of suspects.

   The fact that this is based on a play and not a book is probably to its great advantage, as the dialogue is fairly sharp, and all the cues are hit on time.

   The squire of a tidy little English village dies leaving his estate to his American ward Sylvia Kennett (Sally Blane), but from the start things start to go bad. Sylvia’s boyfriend Tony Fields (Anthony Bushell) won’t marry her because she is now rich, and then attractive middle aged friend Claire Winslow (Phyllis Dare) shows up with evidence she and the Squire were married, making her the heir.

   That’s no problem for Sylvia who can now marry Tony, but he still seems reluctant and is hiding something to do with the attractive maid.

   Worse yet, the villagers are gossiping suggesting murder even though the Squire was being treated by Dr. Moody (Sir Nigel Playfair) for a terminal heart condition, and eventually the gossip gets bad enough Scotland Yard shows up with an exhumation order, the result of which shows the Squire was poisoned, the doctor missing it because his heart medicine had a small amount of cyanide in it.

   Now unpleasant truths start coming out, and in short order Tony Fields finds himself arrested, tried, and convicted of murdering the old man, and as for the maid who was going to tell the police something when she was killed, it turns out she had his baby before he went off to University.

   Detective work here is in the hands of Vicar David Grey (Lewis Casson), hunting and fishing buddy of Dr. Moody, and an old friend of the family. Upset that his little demi Paradise is concealing murder and other darker sins, the Vicar finds himself playing reluctant sleuth when a passing remark by a visitor at the Manor during a local open house accompanying a yearly charity affair puts him on the path to the shocking and unsettling truth about the Squire and his murder.

   Replete with red herrings, colorful characters, alcoholic reporters, sensational headlines, flustered Scotland Yard men, dark secrets, darker revelations, a not too intrusive romance with a more interesting than usual couple, and a fine final set piece and beautifully shot little coda at the end this is an outstanding example of the form, and frankly works better and holds the interest better than many a better known mystery adaptation.

   Bernard Vorhaus’s direction and cinematography by Claude Friese-Greene are both outstanding. A nightmarish fair ground is a particularly good set piece.

   Only running an hour and three minutes, this one is well made with imaginative use of camera angles, camera tricks, and shadows to heighten the effect and dramatize the proceedings. The acting is better than usual and Casson as the unworldly but canny Vicar and Playfair his cynical medical friend are outstanding in what could easily have been merely comedy relief or preachy roles.

   The final scene has real power, is imaginatively shot, and will hold the attention of even the most jaded mystery viewer.

   You might find yourself comparing it to Marjorie Allingham’s Tiger in the Smoke in its portrayal of a truly good, but still interesting man confronted by human evil without losing his faith. I would have loved to have seen a Father Brown movie this well done.

MAX BRAND “The Flaming Finish.” Short story. First published in Blue Book, August 1938. Not known if ever reprinted.

   Even though I’d have to say that Max Brand is my favorite western writer, I haven’t read anything by him in quite a while. That’s why when I was going through some old pulp magazines last week, it really caught my eye when I saw that he had the lead story in the August 1938 issue of Blue Book.

   It turns out that “The Flaming Finish” is of note because while Max Brand under his many pen names had already written hundreds of thousands of words for the pulp magazines, this was the first story he wrote for Blue Book. And while he was most noted for his western stories (see above), this is the first I’ve come across that’s been an aviation story.

   It takes place during the Spanish Civil War (1936-39), but it’s really a nostalgic tribute to those air pilots who fought during World War I, when aviators (true or false) had a certain camaraderie, if not outright chivalry or a code of honor used as the basis for their battles in the air against each other. When one such pilot in this story crashes to the ground and is captured, his opposite partner in the air returns him to his home base instead of killing him on sight, as he had every reason to.

   I don’t know enough about the aviation pulps to know how long in time that stories celebrating this code of honor lasted, but I’d like to think this one was one of the final ones, and Brand made its length of only seven pages fly by. Pun intended.

PostScript: A blurb on the cover of the magazine announces this as the first of a “new series of air adventures” under the overall title of “Knights of the Sky.” I don’t know if the following all fall into that category, but here’s a list of the next few followup stories Max Brand did for the magazine:

      Last Flight, The Blue Book Magazine September 1938.
      The Return of the Man Who Was Killed,  The Blue Book Magazine October 1938.
      True Steel,  The Blue Book Magazine February 1939.
      Half a Partner, The Blue Book Magazine March 1939.

DONALD CLOUGH CAMERON – Death at Her Elbow. Henry Holt & Co., hardcover, 1940. Green Dragon #20, digest paperback, circa 1945-46, abridged.

   After the suicide death of her New York City roommate, Ann Porter fled to the West Coast to get away from the memories. Returning after a year’s absence, she thinks the memories have faded, but not only is she wrong about that, but the body of the man who at the root of Jenny’s death is found murdered in Ann’s bedroom, hit over the head by a heavy statue in the shape of a cat.

   Investigating the murder is homicide detective Peter Gore, whose only appearance in print this seems to be. The story does not follow Gore’s footsteps through the case, but Ann’s, who fears that her former boy friend, who has waited faithfully for her, committed the crime, whereas – you guessed – he thinks she did it.

   This complicates matters, of course, at least as far as Ann and Alec are concerned. Gore – and this is rather surprising – looks kindly upon the pair of lovers and does his best not to suspect either one. But what this means is that are two major themes to Death at Her Elbow. One, the romance, and secondly, the mystery.

   Luckily the mystery does not take a total second shrift. The problem is, as far as solving the murder is concerned, is that there are just a few too many suspects (although at least one is an out-and-out ringer) and not quite enough clues. As for me, I could have done with less romance, but Cameron was a decent writer, describing the characters and capturing the setting well, and I enjoyed this one.

   Cameron wrote a total of six mysteries between 1939 and 1947, three of them starring a chap named Abelard Voss, about whom Wikipedia says was a “young criminologist and detective … who liked to take philosophical reflections during his investigations.” He also wrote extensively for the comic books. I found this interesting enough that I’m going to quote liberally from his Wikipedia page:

NO CLUE. Alliance, Canada, 2013. Brent Butt, Amy Smart, David Koechner, David Cubitt, Dan Payne, Kirsten Prout. Screenplay: Brent Butt. Director: Carl Bessai. Currently streaming on Amazon Prime Video.

   I wonder which mystery writer it was who was the first to open one of his books with a beautiful blonde babe walking into a PI’s office wanting him to do a job for her.

   As I say, I don’t know who it was, but the guy ought to have copyright the whole bit. If he had (were it possible), he’d have made a fortune by now.

   The problem in this case, for such an opening is the case, is that Leo Falloon is not a PI. His is the office down the hall, and the girl has made a mistake. He’s really a novelty pen salesman, the kind of pen that companies put their logos and slogans on, but when he hears the girl out – and she really is a beautiful blonde babe, so wouldn’t you? – and when she offers him real money – hell, yes, he takes the case.

   Her brother is missing, she says. He’s created a video game that’s brought in tons of money, and she thinks something is seriously wrong. Which of course it is, and equally of course is that Leo Falloon, a slightly overweight schlub of a man, discovers that he’s seriously in over his head, but in most comedic fashion.

   Luckily his best buddy Ernie (David Koechner, a long time regular on Saturday Night Live) is a devout aficionado of video games and is thus able to give Leo some pointers in the right direction. Of course all is not what it seems, and thus the heart of the tale that follows

   Brent Butt is a well-known standup Canadian comedian and the star of Corner Gas, a Canadian TV comedy about a small gas station slash convenience store in Dog River, smack dab in the middle of nowhere (Saskatchewan), if you have never seen, I recommend to you most heartily.

   On the other hand, as I’ve often said, humor is a funny thing. Most of the people who have written online reviews don’t get Butt’s kind of semi-sarcastic self-deprecating take on the world. Well, so be it. You can’t make people laugh if they their minds don’t work the way Brett Butts’ does, and mine, too, for that matter.

   What’s strange, though, is that many of the very same people thought the mystery was terrific – at least those of them who made it through to the end. The mystery’s OK, with all kinds of clues and things, but are they all tied up at the end? Not to me, they weren’t, but then again I didn’t mind. I had lots of everything else to keep me happy all the way through.
   

HUGH PENTECOST – The Fourteen Dilemma.  Pierre Chambrun #12.  Dodd Mead, hardcover, 1976. Worldwide, paperback, April 1990.

   It’s been quite a while since I read either a Judson Philips or a Hugh Pentecost mystery, and I find that I’d completely forgotten how much passion he used to put into a story. Not passion in a sexual sense, but pure, unadulterated emotion. Rage, hate, love, joy, the works.

   What disturbed me at first was the fact that this adventure of Pierre Chambrun centers around the death of a beautiful young 12 year old girl who also happens to be a deaf mute. She and her parents are staying at the Hotel Beaumont as the result of a winning lottery ticket in a $250,000 lottery, They’ve been given a luxury apartment on the exclusive 14th floor, along with assorted diplomats, movie stars, professional killers, including one working for the State Department, and some of the wealthiest people in the world.

   And thus the number of possible suspects is limited, even though the hotel is otherwise very much like a city unto itself. But young innocent girls are not supposed to be murder victims, and — if this makes sense — while I know it happens in real life, there is no real reason I have to read about it in fiction as well, is there?

   But the fact that she cannot hear or speak is an essential part of the plot, and that she is an innocent victim is part of what spurs Chambrun into taking some of the actions he does. The story builds, as it often does in Pentecost’s books, into a story of black power politics, Arab nationalism, corporate greed, and of course, national security. In other words, a full-fledged international crisis.

   As the years [have gone] by, some of the fervent emotion seems to have ebbed away from what seemed so important a decade or so ago. On the other hand, it’s still oil that makes the world go around, or haven’t you noticed?

   Overall,  this us a decent mystery, told in Pentecost’s straightforward, often blunt style of writing, but in the end the death of the small girl  is all but forgotten.  With all the other events going on, it’s not surprising, but I somehow still found it more than a minor annoyance to me.