I was asked the following question by email a couple of days ago. I won’t include the name of the person asking in case he doesn’t want it circulating online without his knowing about it, but I thought it interesting enough to see how others besides myself might answer it:

    “I am a fan of old, rare books and I wonder if there is any mystery/crime/horror/suspense not widely known book from the past decades that hasn’t been turned into a feature film that deserves it?”

DASHIELL HAMMETT “$106,000 Blood Money.” First published in Black Mask, May 1927. Collected in The Big Nightmare (Random House, 1966).

   Sequel to “The Big Knockover.” The brother of a murdered gunman attempts to collect the reward money for bringing in Papadopolos. These two stories together vividly describe the underworld and its inhabitants, the temptation of crime, and its viciousness. (4)

HOLLYWOOD STORY. Universal International, 1951. Richard Conte, Julia Adams, Richard Egan, Henry Hull, Fred Clark, Jim Backus, with Francis X. Bushman, Betty Blythe, William Farnum, Helen Gibson & Joel McCrea. Director: William Castle.

   A movie about movies. A heartfelt tribute to the silent movie era with all its salaciousness and scandals, Hollywood Story follows film producer Larry O’Brien (Richard Conte) who becomes obsessed with the unsolved 1929 murder of silent film director Franklin Ferrara. So much so that he has decided to make a movie about Ferrara’s death. But to make the movie authentic, he realizes he needs to play PI and solve the crime. This, of course, puts a target on his back.

   There’s a wide range of characters who could all be suspects, including Sally Rousseau (Julia Adams), whose mother Amanda was an actress who worked with Ferrara. There’s also O’Brien’s friend, Sam Collyer (Fred Clark) whose gun was used in the killing. And then there’s a gaggle of former silent movie stars, all of whom may have had a reason to want Ferrara out of the way. Complicating matters is the longstanding rumor that Ferrara had an estranged brother who died in China.

   It’s just convoluted enough to work. At least that’s my opinion. With William Castle at the helm and with plenty of on-location shots in LA, the movie never stalls. It moves along at a solid clip and provides plenty of suspense about who or what may lie behind the Ferrara murder. While the ultimate resolution may be a bit of a letdown, it’s plausible enough to make Hollywood Story worth a casual watch should you find the premise intriguing. Just don’t go in with the highest of expectations. Sunset Boulevard (1950), this is not.

JANICE LAW “The Best Thing for the Liver.” Madame Selina #2 (?). First published in Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, July/August 2012.

   According to the evidence found in this, perhaps the second of the Madame Selina stories. they all take place in either New York City, or as in this particular case, fairly close by, in upstate New York in the spa area around Saratoga.

   Due to some notoriety caused in an earlier adventure in which the folks at Tammany Hall were sorely annoyed, Madame Selina and her young assistant, an orphan by the name of Nip Tompkins, decide to take a sudden “vacation” from the big city.

   This also places the time of the take as being (well, I’m guessing) perhaps the mid-1800’s. As a medium with quite a following, Madame Selina is doing quite well, and the seances she conducts are quite the rage. There are times, however, when discretion is quite the right route to take.

   The story is told by young Nip, and he is rather an observant lad. He notices a young girl, the heir to a large fortune, who appears paler and paler each times he sees her. He wonders, of course, if she is ill. Since this is a mystery story, we the reader are in sync with the rest of the story as it plays out. The even greater pleasure obtained from the tale. however, is in the telling, elaborately fashioned after the times, but without flowing into the excesses of an era now so long ago.

         ____

Note: The online Crime Fiction Index includes the Madame Selina tales, but at this point of time, it is unaware that this story is part of the series. Here’s the list of her adventures, as known so far, with this one inserted in bold as (for now) number two:

      The Madame Selina series —

Madame Selina, (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine June 2010
The Best Thing for the Liver (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine July/August 2012
A Political Issue, (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine September 2013
The Psychic Investigator, (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine December 2013
The Irish Boy, (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine January/February 2015
The Ghostly Fireman, (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine April 2015
The Spiritualist, (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine March 2016
The Organ Grinder’s Daughter, (ss) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine July/August 2016
A Fine Nest of Rascals, (nv) Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine July/August 2019

   As for the author herself, Janice Law is one of very few mystery writers still producing fiction who are older than I am. Her most recently published work is listed as “Up and Gone,” Alfred Hitchcock’s Mystery Magazine, July/August 2024.

GRIEF STREET. Chesterfield, 1931. Barbara Kent, John Holland, Dorothy Christy, Crauford Kent, Lillian Rich, James P. Burtis, Larry Steers. Screenplay: Arthur Hoerl. Director: Richard Thorpe.

   A noted Broadway actor is found strangled in his dressing room. There is only the one door, and it was under observation by the stage doorman from the time the man entered until his body was found. While the cops are quite visibly busy enough, most of the investigation follows a reporter around (stalwartly played by John Holland).

   The fellow’s nose for news primarily (and most notably) comes up with a young actress (saucily played by Barbara Kent) who has been let go from the current production but who seems strangely determined to keep hanging around.

   There are a lot of players in this aged pre-Code production, and a lot of romantic playing around has been going on, or so it turns out. It is difficult to keep all of this straight, but if you keep your eye on where it needs to be, you may well deduce how the deed was done. Nevertheless I have my doubts you will remember who the killer is when at last his or her identity is uncovered. It’s that kind of mystery, and one not particularly recommended.
   

   The writer William “Bill” Lindsay Gresham (1909-1962) is well-remembered for his 1946 novel Nightmare Alley, but not much is known about his life. He was a member of New York-based writers group the Witchdoctors Club, particularly close to Clayton Rawson and John Dickson Carr, and wrote what some consider “the first great Houdini biography.”

   Two of the few people today who can speak about Gresham from memory are his stepchildren, Bob Pierce and Rosemary Simmons. Bob and Rosemary moved with their mother, Renee Rodriguez (nee Pierce), to Staatsburg, New York, in 1952 to stay with Gresham’s family. Renee was a cousin of Gresham’s wife, Joy Davidman. As various books on Davidman have discussed, Renee was seeking a divorce from her husband, Claude Pierce, and she married Gresham after he divorced Davidman in 1954. Gresham helped raise Bob and Rosemary until his death in 1962.

   In our interview, Bob recalls growing up with Gresham, and some memories of spending time with Gresham’s sons, David and Douglas, in 1952-1953 before they moved away with Davidman.

         Interview:

Q. How old were you when you, your mother, and Rosemary came to stay with the Greshams in Staatsburg?

A. I was 5-6 years old. I remember riding the school bus, so I must have been in first grade.

Q. What is your first memory of Bill Gresham?

A. I don’t recall any first impressions. I do remember a large house with columns and a front yard that sloped down to a creek. The kitchen was large and came with a friendly cook.

Q. Did you relate well to Bill?

A. I did not. I was my daddy’s little boy who got taken everywhere with him, even to the bar. I gradually warmed up to [Bill] and somewhere around 13, I asked my mother if I could call him Dad instead of Cousin Bill. Unfortunately, I never got around to following through.

Q. Can you recall Bill saying anything about his writing – what he was working on, projects he liked or disliked, things like that?

A. While I was aware that he was a writer and made contributions to various magazines, the only project we ever discussed was his Book of Strength. We discussed the exercises in the book. I was aware of his keen interest in Houdini, but don’t remember discussing the book. I was also aware of his interest in magic.

   He also dabbled in something called I Ching (I think that is right), which was some sort of Oriental graphic with a set of horizontal lines. One day he sat down with me trying to explain that you could ask questions and I Ching would provide an answer. I tried asking a question about a girl I had a crush on. All this was spelled out on a yellow pad, which I later found out my mother found and had some questions about who this girl was that was on Bill’s pad.

Q. Any memories of his body-building exercises when he was working on The Book of Strength (1961)?

A. We did discuss his book and the illustrations he planned to use. Being rail thin, I had interest in the activities. My memory is vague, recalling that there may have been a homemade exercise bench and maybe some trips to a local gym. He taught me proper breathing techniques when exercising, which I employ to this day. He dedicated the book to his sons, David and Doug, and to me, giving me a first presentation copy that I still have.

Q. Any memories of the fire-eating and other tricks that Gresham would do?

A. I do remember him entertaining friends by eating a flaming banana. He would also juggle flaming cotton balls. He shared the secret of fire eating with me, which was to use isopropyl alcohol because it burns cool. He could also roll a quarter across his knuckles. I don’t remember any card tricks, but I suspect he knew a few.

Q. Any memories of him playing guitar or singing?

A. I do remember him doing both, but no specific memories.

Q. Any memories of what Gresham’s wife, Joy, was like?

A. I only have vague memories of her. I don’t recall her being friendly or warm and seemed to favor her oldest son, David, who was prevented from bullying my sister and I by his brother Douglas.

Q. If you can remember Joy, how did she and Gresham relate to each other—happy. Unhappy, any impressions from that period?

A. I have no recollections of their interactions.

Q. Any memories of the Gresham boys, Douglas and David?

A. As referenced above, my relationship with David was strained although I can’t cite any specifics. Douglas was seen as our protector from David and we enjoyed a positive relationship with him. An example would be the Halloween we shared. My mother made costumes for all four kids. Douglas was Robin Hood, Rosemary was Maid Marion, I was Will Scarlett, and David was the Sheriff of Nottingham. We were perfectly role-cast.

[Interviewer’s Note: Rosemary recalled in an interview for Fellowship & Fairydust that David refused to dress as the Sheriff of Nottingham and asked for a Julius Caesar costume instead. They both described David as picking a role that fit him well.]

Q. When did your parents, Claude and Renee, divorce?

A. I have always believed that I was five at the time. I remember leaving for the airport (I think) and my father ran into a ditch. (Only later did I learn he was drinking). A passerby picked us up and drove us to the airport. I remember being aware that something traumatic was occurring, but no details. I don’t know when the divorce was officially granted.

Q. How much was your father Claude involved in your life after the divorce?

A. Mostly absent. I only remember one time when we were living in the Miami area that he came to visit with his girlfriend and they took Rosemary and I to visit my grandfather in Mobile. At some point, maybe I was 10-12, Claude got a job as a pipefitter, I believe, and lived in Queens, NYC. On occasion, he would come to New Rochelle, and pick us up and take us back to Queens for the weekend. I would guess I didn’t see him more than a dozen times. It was during this time that I realized that my father was an alcoholic and asked my mother for confirmation. To my mother’s credit she never once said negative things about my father.

   After he moved back to Mobile, I never saw him again. I think that had a psychological impact on me that I suppressed and shaped my adolescent personality, but he became a non-entity. There were no phone calls or letters or birthday cards that I can remember. I only found about his death several years after he passed through an aunt who eventually contacted my mother. My sister and I contributed to a headstone for him, but I don’t know where he is buried and have had no contact with my father’s side of the family.

Q. I know Gresham’s friend in Mamaroneck, Clayton Rawson, had children near your and Rosemary’s ages. Any memories of hanging out with Clayton Jr. or the other children?

A. We never hung out with the Rawson kids. However, I do remember the family being invited over to the Rawsons one weekend. Rawson had constructed a wooden stage that rose about one foot off of his backyard. He put on a magic show for us, the highlight of which was a levitation trick in which he elevated his daughter from a standing position to a horizontal floating position with her elbow on a broomstick. He did the usual display of passing a hoop around her body to prove there were no wires. I was truly amazed because this done on a makeshift backyard stage. Bill would never tell me how the trick was done.

Q. I know that your family moved to Florida after 1953 and lived there for a few years. What was it like living there?

A. Before Bill came down to marry my mother (a ceremony I have no recollection of), we lived in a converted detached garage that had no hot water (showers consisted of a mad dash under the shower head) and we fondly called it Scorpion Hall. So named because my sister and I would capture the scorpions that ran around outside under a glass. I had no sense of being poor and economically lower-class because although we had little my mother dressed up in Easter finery: a suit for me and dress, hat and purse for Rosemary. I have the picture to attest to it.

   When Bill joined us, we first moved to an apartment over a blacksmith shop and then to a duplex in Hialeah and led a normal childhood: learning to ride my first bike, performing circuses in the yard with my acrobatic sister and a blowup wading pool, hanging out and drinking Yoo-Hooo, and all the things kids in the 50s did. I was only vaguely aware of Bill’s drinking, but too young to make much of it and it didn’t spill over to disrupt the family peace.

   The next stop was Ocala where we lived in a big old house on the outskirts of town. I remember going to school in some converted army trailers (I don’t know why). We then moved for some reason into town into a second-floor apartment. I have fond memories of getting up early to ride my bike to school to play in the daily pickup baseball game.

   It was also here that I received my first taste of racial reality in the South, being completely naïve at the time. Rosemary and I had made friends with a pair of sisters who lived across the street that were near out age. The younger sister had some sort of disability (possibly polio) but was sweet and friendly and the older sister was not. For some reason, we disclosed that our mother was born in Havana. The next day the older sister informed us they couldn’t be our friends because everyone knows that Cubans are niggers.

   The younger sister tried to stay friendly with us but we parted ways. I don’t remember being traumatized by this and race was never a topic in our household. Our stay in Ocala was short-lived as Bill thought he would secure more writing assignments if he lived closer to the literary agents in New York.

Q. What were your mother and Gresham like as a couple?  

A. I think they were very loving to each other, and I can’t recall ever witnessing a fight or argument. They were affectionate in our presence and the family always ate together and watched TV together (TV dramas like Masterpiece Theater and concessions to younger tastes such as trying to outdraw Matt Dillon on Gunsmoke). I remember that when my mother noticed a few gray hairs, Bill dubbed her Princess Dark Cloud With Silver Lining.

   I think I was aware that he found my mother very attractive although I was too young to understand what that meant. Proof and realization of their bond came to me after his death as my mother exhibited a belief that he was irreplaceable.

Q. Gresham served as a medic in the Spanish Civil War. Do you remember him ever mentioning Spain, anything about his war experience?

A. I have no recollection of him ever mentioning his experiences and only learned after his death that he was a participant. You state he was a medic, a fact I just learned.

Q. Any memories from when Gresham passed away in 1962?

A. My memories of that time are of people coming to the apartment to console my mother and I was assigned the task of answering the telephone and informing callers that he had passed away. I don’t recollect that I knew how he died, but I think I must have been told.

   One male visitor, I don’t know who, took me aside and told me it was my role to take care of my mother and sister as the male of the house, right out of a movie. That summer I did not go to summer camp, as was my usual practice and stayed home to fulfill my expected role.

   At some point I was told he was suffering from incurable cancer and took his life to spare the family the burdens of dealing with the disease. Sometime afterwards, I don’t remember how long, my mother asked me to accompany her to the pier in New Rochelle where the ferry to Fort Slocum docked and we distributed his ashes into Long Island Sound.

Q. Did you reconnect with Douglas or David as adults?

A. I never had any connection with David since my childhood. I had in-person contact with Douglas twice. Once when he was in Florida on business and he took time to visit with my mother, Rosemary, and I. Douglas arrived with his wife Merrie, all his kids, and a nanny. Douglas was dressed in boots and safari clothes. I thought I was meeting Crocodile Dundee of movie fame. The second time was when he came to visit my mother in hospice in 2005. All other contact was secondhand through my sister who maintained contact with Douglas and his family.

   Several years ago, I sent a letter to Douglas thanking him for his generosity towards Renee and my sister and I. I also said that I was grateful to have a stepbrother who protected Rosemary and I from David. Douglas responded to my letter that he was glad to have a brother who wasn’t crazy.

[Interviewer’s Note: Rosemary recalls this first visit to Florida occurred in 1980. David passed away in 2014, and Douglas reported in a 2020 interview with First Things that their uncle, Howard Davidman, diagnosed David with paranoid schizophrenia when David was 11.]

Q. Have you explored any of Gresham’s writing? If so, what do you like? Or dislike for that matter?

A. I have read Nightmare Alley, which I found somewhat difficult to read. I found it to be a deep dive into a psychological world that I found unsettling and unlike any other book I have read. Of course, I read The Book of Strength which is straightforward. I attempted Limbo Tower but never got through it and I know I read numerous magazine pieces but can’t recall any of them now.

Q. Did you get to meet any of Gresham’s friends – fellow writers like John Dickson Carr, people he knew through magician groups – during or after his death?

A. John Dickson Carr is a familiar name, but I can’t remember any details about him. The most frequent visitor was The Amazing Randi. I remember him as diminutive in stature with a dark goatee and recall seeing him on TV also.

   There were others, but I don’t recall them except one who invited the family, and others, to his estate, on the New Jersey shore. For some reason, I believe the host was a well-known Civil War historian. The highlight of the party was Bill and the host staging a séance that evoked some shrieks when a ghost appeared and laughter when the ghost’s identity was revealed and the prank exposed.

[Interviewer’s Note: I asked Bob in a follow-up email if this was writer Fletcher Pratt and he immediately recognized the name. Bill Mullins has noted that Gresham’s brother Henry listed Pratt as his employer on his 1940 draft card. Frederik Pohl’s blog The Way the Future Was included a story about Gresham visiting Pratt’s New Jersey home, a writing commune dubbed the Ipsy-Whipsy Institute.]

Q. Nightmare Alley has been adapted twice – into a 1947 movie and again in 2021. Have you seen either film? Any thoughts on them?

A. I have seen them both. The 1947 version had an easily followed story line of descent into alcoholic depravity fostered by hubris and guilt. The 2021 version featured a more stylized script that I thought was lacking in character development and interaction. Neither of them captured the dark psychological tone of the book.

Q. Looking back now, what’s your impression of Gresham?

A. I have learned more about Bill Gresham after his death than when he was alive. I regret not interacting with him more closely as I have come to understand that he was a very interesting and talented person from whom I could have learned much. I find no fault with him in the development our relationship, but I look back on those years as a typical adolescent too engrossed in finding himself and the social situation into which he fit.

DASHIELL HAMMETT “The Big Knockover.” First published in The Black Mask, February 1927. Collected in The Big Nightmare (Random House, 1966).

   Hoods from all over the country are imported into San Francisco to pull off a multimillion dollar double bank robbery, As the Continental Op investigates, most of the gunmen are found murdered, victims of a vicious double-cross. Papadopoulos, the headman, fools the OP and escapes. (4)

PEKING EXPRESS. Paramount Pictures, 1951. Joseph Cotten, Corinne Calvet, Edmund Gwenn, Marvin Miller, Benson Fong, Soo Yong. Director: William Dieterle.

   A remake of Shanghai Express (1932), William Dieterle’s Peking Express (1951) was apparently the first studio film to be set in Communist China. The plot follows humanitarian doctor Michael Bachlin (Joseph Cotton) as he attempts to make his way to Peking on a train to tend to an ill Chinese general. His traveling companions include his ex-lover, nightclub singer Danielle Grenier (Corrine Colvert), a priest (Edmund Gwenn), and Kwon (Marvin Miller), a seemingly mild-manner Westernized man attuned to world politics.

   Little does Bachlin know that Kwon is actually a ruthless bandit who deals in stolen pharmaceuticals in the supposedly non-existent black market.

   The movie has its fair share of action, but it’s extremely preachy as well and takes its good time to get going. It’s at least twenty to thirty minutes into the film before the viewer has some idea of who is important to the main thrust of the story and who isn’t.

   There’s also something very old fashioned about Peking Express that’s difficult to put into words, but easy to feel when watching. It almost feels like a silent film that came to full “talkie” life, if that makes any sense. Still, the train sequences are very well done and those who like movies set on trains will find a lot to appreciate here.

   Overall, a solid adventure film that benefits from a professional cast who took their roles seriously. But it’s nothing you’re going to want to watch a second time. It just doesn’t have enough energy for that.

TWISTED. Paramount Pictures, 2004. Ashley Judd, Samuel L. Jackson, Andy García. Director: Philip Kaufman.

   Apparently people don’t like this movie very much. In fact, it currently has a 2% positive – that’s right two percent positive – rating on Rotten Tomatoes. The question then becomes: is it really that bad? My resounding answer is no. Not at all.

   Directed by Philip Kaufman, whose work I generally admire, Twisted is a paranoid thriller in which newly minted San Francisco detective Jessica Shepard (Ashley Judd) finds herself in a precarious position. Her lovers and one-night stands alike are turning up dead with cigarette burns on their hands.

   This is especially traumatic, given her parents’ death in a murder-suicide years ago. Luckily, she has a mentor in Police Commissioner John Mills (Samuel L. Jackson). But whom can she really trust? Her new partner (Andy Garcia), her psychiatrist (David Strathairn), and her ex-boyfriend (Mark Pellegrino) all seem like viable suspects. Eventually, Shepard (Judd) begins to doubt her own sanity and casts suspicion on herself.

   The main problem – and it’s a glaring one – with Twisted is that its resolution really doesn’t make a lot of sense. It’s cheap and tawdry and strains credulity to the nth degree. But that doesn’t mean the rest of the movie is worthless. It’s an extremely watchable lowbrow sleazefest with a coterie of great character actors and a director who did his best with the deeply flawed source material.

   How’s that for a recommendation?
   

DAVID GOODIS – Somebody’s Done For. Banner B60-111, paperback original, 1967. Reprinted several times, including Stark House Press, softcover, 2023.

   Jander’s an ad man. For fun, he takes a dingy out the New Jersey coast.

   Only it capsizes. And he just about drowns.

   Ends up on some forgotten stretch of beach.

   And a girl. A strange and beautiful creature, pulls him up the shore, to save him from drowning in the tide.

   She takes him to a shack, warms him and feeds him.

   But don’t follow me and don’t ask questions.

   But he can’t help it. Like Orpheus descending.

   So he finds out where she’s from. And where she’s going.

   Thing is, her daddy is an escaped convict. Who lives in an abandoned house, with a couple of buddies from the clink. And his wife.

   And daddy’s crazy as a moon. I would say loon, but it’s overused. So moon. Crazy as a moon. And gun crazy.

   And Vera, the daughter. She brings home the bread. (Almost said bacon. All we’re missing is a tomato and some lettuce.) She’s the featured attraction at a gentleman’s club. Only she ain’t available. Which doubles her attraction. She’s belongs to one man and one man alone.

   Her daddy.

   Odd little book. And Goodis’s last.

   As unfulfilling as life itself.