ARTHUR J. BURKS “Death of the Flute.” Dorus Noel #1. Short story. First published in All Detective Magazine, April 1933. Collected in Grottos of Chinatown (Off Trail Publications, softcover, 2009).

   This is the first story that prolific pulp writer wrote about super sleuth Doris Noel. In a way it’s too bad that he didn’t write any of Noel’s earlier adventures that took place in China fighting the evil ways of Chu Chul, obviously a Fu Manchu wanna-be also known as The Cricket, because they do sound interesting. What we have here in “Death of the Flute” is a continuation of their mutual struggle against each other, ending, perhaps, in the death of one of the combatants, and it isn’t Dorus Noel.

   It may or may not be Chu Chul’s either, because the latter shows up in “The White Wasp,” Noel’s next adventure. I’ve not read that next tale yet, though, so it may only be an imposter that Noel has to face down.

   But not wishing to get ahead of ourselves, “Death of the Flute” begins with Noel under the firm belief that he saw Chu Chul die. He’s back in New York City now, and in Chinatown in particular, working for a unidentified benefactor with the charge to wipe out crime and corruption in that section of the big city.

   But of course Chu Chul is not dead, and before Noel can get to work on his real mission, he must deal with that particular evil genius and end his dream of world domination once and for all.

   This is no easy task, of course, but after some setbacks, including the agonizing death of his faithful servant at the hands of Noel’s archenemy, the latter does indeed prevail, in good pulpy fashion.
   

      The Dorus Noel series —

Death of the Flute (ss) All Detective Magazine Apr 1933
The White Wasp (ss) All Detective Magazine May 1933
Bells of Pell Street (ss) All Detective Magazine Jun 1933
Red Tassels (ss) All Detective Magazine Sep 1933
The Golden Cocoon (ss) All Detective Magazine Oct 1933
Cloisonne (ss) All Detective Magazine Dec 1933
Spheres of Cathay (ss) All Detective Magazine Jan 1934
Design for Murder (ss) All Detective Magazine Mar 1934
Tinkling Bells (ss) All Detective Magazine Jun 1934
Black Snow (ss) All Detective Magazine Sep 1934
The Blood Screen (ss) All Detective Magazine Dec 1934

ROBERT L. FISH РIsle of Snakes. Captain Jos̩ da Silva #2. Simon & Schuster, hardcover, 1963. Avon G1241, paperback, [1964?]; Ace, paperback, circa 1971.

   It was never merely that Robert L. Fish was an accomplished writer of suspense, a gifted purveyor of mystery plots, and had a wry sense of humor that ran through his work. He was always something more: a damn good writer who chose to work in the mystery genre.

   Isle of Snakes is in Fish’s best known series featuring Brazilian policeman Captain José ‘Zé’ de Silva, a charming, intelligent, and often swashbuckling adventurer liaison between the local police and Interpol (*), a swarthy pock faced figure in a red Jaguar who is often aided by American Wilson (just Wilson “He was a stocky, nondescript man…”) security officer at the Embassy who is also tied to Interpol, and who, while a valuable ally, always may have his own goals and motives (spelled CIA) in any collaboration with da Silva.

   The book opens with a man on the bus/truck above headed for the coast. He notices killers are after him, but manages to reach Rio before he is murdered. His body ends up in the morgue (the Instituto Medico-Legal in the Rua dos Invalidos), a case for Zé, and a weird one when a package shows up delivered by the dead man to an American hotel containing a stuffed coral snake.

   Nothing directly ties the case to Interpol and da Silva, but he is intrigued, as Wilson notes,“Speak of having imagination! You could start with a damp bar rag and build up a distillery!” He’s soon proved right though when it becomes clear someone is willing to kill for that deadly little stuffed snake and his beloved red Jaguar is blown up in the garage when the attendant starts it.

   Before it is over Wilson and Zé will realize why a man was murdered for a stuffed snake, smash a powerful criminal conspiracy, and of course find themselves on that island of snakes from the title before a rapid paced finale and chase.

   It must be mentioned that the very best of Fish’s books move so rapidly you can hardly catch your breath. The da Silva novels come in around sixty thousand words, this one only has seven chapters, and the action, repartee between Zé and Wilson, and unveiling mystery will leave you breathless.

   They are one of the best Holmes/Watson teams in the genre, only below Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin, their wry humor and fast paced action still a model of the perfect way to write a modern thriller.

   If you like your mystery novels clever, funny, fast moving, and delightful Fish is the right mix for you, and he goes perfectly with red or white wine.

      __

    (*) Interpol in these books is an entirely fictitious version of the real private police organization whose troubled past as a Nazi front organization who then helped Nazi War Criminals escape after the War and has since had a checkered history with many of its top officials charged and convicted of various crimes has never had active agents and was mostly useful for issuing information on Persons of Interest (Yellow Sheets) and wanted criminals (Red Sheets) to member organizations. Contrary to television and movies many Federal police agencies have never subscribed to Interpol here because of their history.

DAVID BALDACCI – One Good Deed. Aloysius Archer #1. Grand Central, hardcover, July 2019; paperback, September 2020.

   Best-selling author David Baldacci has written over 40 novels in nine different series, including this one, and several standalones. This is the first one of them I’ve tackled, using the verb advisedly, as it clocks in at 450 pages in the paperback edition.

   What attracted to me to this one was the setting: 1949 in a small town in the American west, Oklahoma perhaps; not Texas, but somewhere nearby. It opens with its leading character, Aloysius Archer having just been released from prison and heading on a bus to the small town of Poca City, where his parole officer is waiting for him to check in.

   To his surprise, the latter is female, a lady by the name of Ernestine Crabtree, and in spite of her sex, and the fact that she is, well, a looker, she knows how to lay down the law to Archer. One of the conditions of his parole is that Archer must have a job, and this he does, hiring himself out as a debt collector for a man who, as it turns out, owns a good chunk of the town and the business that’s done therein. Complicating matters is that the man’s choice of lady friends, other than his wife, is Jackie Tuttle, the daughter of the man whose loan has come due.

   Things being what they are, Archer soon finds himself in bed with Jackie and the man he is working for is found dead in the hotel room just down the hall from Archer’s. And as things continue being what they are, Archer finds himself the obvious suspect. And who best to clear his name? Himself, and finding that he kind of likes being a detective. A shamus, if you will.

   For about 90 percent of its length, this is a rootin’ tootin’ detective novel, and Balducci’s smooth quiet prose allows for the pages to, to coin a phrase, fly by, well into the small hours of the morning.

   What goes wrong, and very very wrong, as far as I was concerned, is that as the conclusion is seen coming in the horizon is that when Archer finds several letters and other documents, he reads them, smiles, shoves them into his pocket. Are we the reader allowed to know what’s in the several letters and other documents? In a word, no. Foul play, I say.

   Almost as bad is the trial that to all intents and purposes closes up the case, and any resemblance to a real trial is slim and none. Pure hearsay and other made up allowances for witnesses to say anything they wish. (I grew up reading Erle Stanley Gardner’s Perry Mason stories, and I know how real trials are conducted.)

   This, and an ending that in perspective is way far ahead of its time in terms of the culture of the time, and that’s all I’ll say about that. Overall then, a waste of a good story most of the way through, and several hours of reading time.

PAUL ADAM – Sleeper. Gianni Castiglione #1. Time Warner, UK, paperback, 2005. Published in the US as The Rainaldi Quartet (St. Martin’s, hardcover, 2006; Felony & Mayhem, paperback, 2007).

   Giovanni “Gianni” Castiglioni is a luthier – a violin maker – at whose home his friends – a policeman, Guastafeste, a priest, Father Arrigh, and a fellow luthier, Rainaldi – gather each month as an informal string quartet. After one of their sessions, Guastafeste and Gianni find Rainaldi murdered in his studio nearby. His widow tells them he was searching for “The Messiah’s Sister,” the twin to a perfect, unplayed, priceless violin made by Stradivari. Gianni is asked by Guastafeste to help in the investigation.

   This book is being released in hardcover by St. Martin’s as The Rainaldi Quartet in February 2006. No matter the title, I thoroughly enjoyed this book. The character of Gianni, the supporting characters and the settings in Italy were well done. The killer, and the motive, weren’t ones I anticipated. But it was the history of violins and violin making I found fascinating. The information enhanced, rather than detracted, from the story. If this is an example of Mr. Adam’s writing, I should definitely read another book by him.

Rating: Good Plus

      The Gianni Castiglione series —

1. Sleeper (2004) aka The Rainaldi Quartet
2. Paganini’s Ghost (2010)
3. The Hardanger Riddle (2019)The Gianni Castiglione series —

THE TOWN. Warner Bros., 2010. Ben Affleck, Rebecca Hall, Jon Hamm, Jeremy Renner, Blake Lively, Pete Postlethwaite. Adapted from Chuck Hogan’s 2004 novel Prince of Thieves. Director: Ben Affleck. Currently streaming on Amazon Prime.

   It begins with a bank heist in Boston. Well-choreographed, with director Ben Affleck in full control of a fluid situation, The Town starts off with unbridled action. It sparks and sizzles with furious electricity, reminiscent of other bank robbery/heist films, most notably Michael Mann’s Heat (1995). And with a few exchanged glances between robber and captive, the plot becomes clear. This is primarily to be a movie about the relationship between a bank robber and the female assistant bank manager whom he forced into opening the vault at gunpoint. That will form the core of the tale yet to unfold.

   Ben Affleck, who stars as well directs, portrays “Doug” MacRay, a long-term resident of the Charlestown section of north Boston, with the city almost becoming a fundamental character in the list of players. He, along with his friend Jem Coughlin (Jeremy Renner), were raised in near poverty in the townie Irish neighborhood and now lead a crew of thieves. Reporting to local kingpin Fergie Colm (Pete Postlethwaite), they are skilled professionals who are willing to use threats of violence to achieve their objectives.

   All this begins to change when Doug begins to fall for his former hostage Claire Keesey (Rebecca Hall). Although he initially follows her around to see what she knows about the bank robbery he took part in, Doug slowly begins to imagine getting out of his life of crime and creating a new one with her. Complicating matters is Doug’s former flame, oxycontin addict Kris Coughlin (an underutilized Blake Lively), who also happens to be Jem’s sister. Not to mention the two persistent local FBI agents on his trail.

   Overall, this is a solid crime drama – with the emphasis on drama. Although there are action sequences, including a suspenseful third act robbery sequence filmed on location near Fenway Park, the film’s primary focus is on the relationships between the characters. While the complicated relationship between Doug and Claire is the central focus of the story, Doug’s decidedly mixed feelings toward his father also plays a prominent role in the narrative.

   Unfortunately, what prevents this heist film from being anything overly exceptional is the film’s reliance on too many outworn tropes. The forced sentimentalism designed to make the viewer feel sympathy for Doug occasionally feels cheap.

   Without giving anything away, let’s just say that the final ten minutes or so of the movie in particular feels artificial. It’s not that what you see couldn’t have happened; rather, it’s the way that it’s visually presented that could feel grating, especially to crime film aficionados. The ending feels at once tragically inevitable and completely out of left field. Similarly, it’s somehow off-putting to have such an ambiguously tidy ending to an emotionally messy and nuanced film.

   Affleck is a skillful director who gets the most out of his exceptionally talented cast, including Victor Garber (Alias), who has a brief cameo as a hostage, and veteran character actor Chris Cooper who portrays his incarcerated father. There are some flourishes that I found distracting, such as his tendency to repeatedly use drone footage of Boston to remind the viewer where the film was set (as if anyone would forget?) and his decision to employ grimy black and white cinematography for flashbacks.

   But don’t let that stop you from watching this one. Affleck’s immersion in his character, Boston accent and all, is near complete. Directing oneself is not always the humblest of tasks. He pulls it off with sincerity.

ELLERY QUEEN – The Fourth Side of the Triangle. Random House, hardcover, 1965. Paperback reprints include: Pocket, 1967; Ballantine, 1975, 1979. Actually written by Avram Davidson, from detailed story outline by Fred Dannay. TV pilot: 23 March 1975, as Ellery Queen: Too Many Suspects (screenwriters: Richard Levinson & William Link; Jim Hutton as EQ & David Wayne as Inspector Queen).

   Ellery, confined to bed with two broken legs, is involved with a strange love triangle consisting of Ashton and Lutetia McKell, their son Dane, and Ashton’s “mistress,” Sheila Gray. Upon learning his father’s secret, Dane tries to interfere and becomes Sheila’s lover himself.

   When Sheila is murdered, the police arrest each member of the family in turn. After two dramatically ending trials, Dane’s parent are cleared, but a blackmailer implicates Dane, and he also is accused. Ellery’s deductions point to Ramon, the chauffeur, but he is only the blackmailer. It is Inspector Queen who discovers the final clue proving [the killer’s] guilt, one of his few triumphs over his son.

   Maybe Perry Mason can do it once in each of his stories, but [two trials are] a bit far-fetched. The second in particular is concluded with a million-in-one accident providing a surprise witness, hardly believable.

   The plot is rather clumsily handled through pages 80-83. Dane supposedly tells everything except his (first) attack, but the lack of reaction from his listeners makes it unclear if everything was told. But yet he must have disclosed both his father’s secret and his involvement, for both are implied later.

   In fact, they confront his father with the story a few pages later, yet again he also has a surprising lack of reaction, even though the complete story has not come out at the trial. Confusing indeed, though not vitally affecting the mystery, the solution to which can at least be partially guessed.

   Entertaining, but not completely satisfying.

Rating: 3½ stars.

SEAN DOOLITTLE “Summa Mathematica.” First published in Crime Spree (*). Reprinted in The Best American Mystery Stories, 2002, edited by James Ellroy & Otto Penzler (Houghton Mifflin, softcover, 2002).

   There are stories, depending on who starts to read them, simply cannot be put down. This particular story may not appeal to you, I understand that, but having spent well over half my life teaching mathematics, this is one that, well, I simply could not be put down.

   It’s the story of a math professor whose mind, in the middle of teaching a calculus class, goes blank. All of a sudden, numbers no longer make sense to him any more. All the medical profession can tell him is that he has “nonspecific acalculia.” Which translated, means “beats us, chum.”

   Later on, working the late shift at a burger barn, a customer makes him an offer he can’t refuse: pay up his gambling debts, or else. One of the “for else”s is to work for the boss as his financial accountant, which ordinarily wouldn’t turn out so bad, but under the circumstances, wouldn’t you just know?

   I don’t know just how this short but effective tale fits in as a “mystery” story, but I guess “mystery” covers a lot of territory as a subgenre of general overall fiction. (*) The real mystery comes in when it comes to trying to discover where this story was first published. Google fails me. And if you were thinking of Crimespree magazine, as I was, that particular magazine didn’t start up until 2004. What am I missing?

RICHARD HULL My Own Murderer. Julian Messner, US, hardcover, 1940. Penguin, US, paperback, [date?]. Also published as Murder by Invitation, Mystery Novel of the Month, paperback, 1941. First published by Collins, UK, hardcover, 1940.

   I’ve said this before but I like the sound of it, so I’ll say it again: We read mysteries to see clues come together; we read crime novels to watch plans fall apart. In My Own Murderer, things fall apart very nicely indeed.

   Narrator Richard Sampson is a London solicitor whose evening is disrupted when an old friend and client drops by his flat and confesses to murder. Alan Renwick is brash, domineering and somewhat of a boor, but Sampson decides to hide him out and help him escape — for reasons of his own.

   What follows is the sort of thing you might expect if Georges Simenon wrote The Odd Couple. Richard and Alan bicker, make plans, cook, clean, cover their tracks, quarrel over domestic duties, and finally arrange a dash for freedom. Or so it would seem.

   Along the way, Sampson learns more and more about his old chum, none of it very nice, but he doesn’t tell us much about himself until Renwick’s escape plan is launched, and things start coming apart. When he does it’s with an engaging and very readable candor that moves the story nicely along.

   I have to say none of it surprised me much, but it’s done with charm and a sense of pace that had me sitting up and turning the pages long, long after my bedtime.

COLIN WATSON – Broomsticks over Flaxborough. Inspector Walter Purbright #7. Eyre Methuen, UK, hardcover, 1972. Published in the US as Kissing Covens, Putnam, 1972. Berkley N2675, paperback, 1974.

   Who else would give his police constables names such as Pook, Palethorp, Brevitt, call the high priestess of an amateur witches’ coven Mrs. Pentatuke, describe the ultimate degradation of ladies as “being trapped in their hostess’s lavatory with an unsinkable turd.”

   Yes, we’re undoubtedly back in Flaxborough again, where that most urbane of policemen, Inspector Purbright, with his faithful henchman, Sergeant Love, investigates the strange disappearance of one of the handmaidens of this particular Satanic master.

   Throw in a strange murder by stabbing (with the horn of a ritual fertility mask no less), crafty Miss Lucilla Teatime, currently treasurer of the Edith Cavell Psychical Research Foundation, a hilarious promotional campaign for Lucillite, a brand new detergent, and we have a typical Flaxborough milieu.

   Grand stuff, neatly clued, beautifully observed, wittily written. Personally I can’t get enough of Colin Watson.

C. S. HARRIS – Who Speaks for the Damned. Sebastian St. Cyr #15. Berkley, hardcover, April 2020. Paperback, March 2021. Setting: England, 1814.

First Sentence: Alone and trying desperately not to be afraid, the child wandered the narrow, winding paths of the tea gardens.

   Nicholas Hayes, a son to the late Earl of Seaford, had been convicted of murder, transported to Botany Bay, and assumed dead. Instead, he returned to London and was murdered. An Asian child who had been with Hayes, finds the body and goes to Hayes’ former friend James Calhoun, valet to St. Cyr. After which, the child disappears. It is now up to St. Cyr to find the child and uncover the murderer.

   There is nothing better than a book that captivates your attention from the very beginning. One is introduced to several of the main and recurring characters, learns about their backgrounds, and is taken straight into the story.

   Harris sets the story up beautifully, providing multiple motives and suspects. Nothing here is obvious. She also effectively conveys the fear felt by young Jai, alone in a foreign country. He is a character who touches the heart but also allows for an interesting look at China during this period. The historical information woven into the story is both informative and harshly factual. Harris makes no attempt to soften the image of this time and confirms that bigotry has always existed.

   Honorable characters have great appeal. When asked why Sebastian, a Viscount, after all, spends his time chasing murders, especially when the victims are despicable characters themselves, he responds: “Making certain a killer doesn’t get away with what he has done is an obligation we the living owe to the dead — no matter how unsavory we consider them to be.” … “Am I not my brother’s keeper?” …”And because I believe we are all connected, every living thing one to the other, so that I owe to each what I would owe to myself.” What a perfect definition of equal justice under the law.

   The relationship between Devlin and his wife Hero is so well done. The intimacy is neither gratuitous nor salacious, and dialogue is very natural. Harris does involve Hero in the investigation, but in a way that makes sense for a woman of her time and rank.

   The story is well-plotted. It moves along at a good pace and presents twists at just the right points although one might wish authors weren’t quite so predictable in their timing. That said, it is nice when one is surprised by a plot twist. The story grows with one revelation upon another. Rather than confusing, this adds to the intrigue of the story. The inclusion of information on the forensics of the time adds veracity and interest.

   Good dialogue makes all the difference, particularly when twinged with humor— “How precisely does one go about accosting a man in the middle of a ball in order to discuss the murder of someone who once ran off with his wife.” “I don’t know,” said Sebastian. “But I’ll think of something.”

   Who Speaks for the Damned is an excellent read. The mystery is solved with an ending that speaks to humanity and puts paid to all the ugliness caused by man. It draws one in from the start and keeps one engaged to the very end.

Rating: Excellent.
   

         Happy Reading,

            LJ