Dorothy L. Sayers, A Treasury of Sayers Stories
First published 1958 by Victor Gollancz Ltd.
This edition an ebook
Twenty-four mystery shorts published by Sayers at various times during her career. Sixteen of these feature Lord Peter Wimsey and six chronicle the detective career of a traveler n wine and spirits, Montague Egg. The other two (and the only ones I had not read at least once before) are one-offs. I have to say that these are far below the standard set in her mystery novels. In general, the plotting is looser, the characters--even Wimsey, as portrayed here--less interesting. I found the Egg stories to be clever, but fairly annoying (partly because of Egg's propensity for turning every experience into a slogan for a salesman), mostly because there was not a lot of detection--the solution tended to be obvious.
The Wimsey stories are less disappointing, but far below the novels in terms of plot and character. Too many of the stories deal with "mysteries" that are fairly trivial. "The Abominable Story of the Man With Copper Fingers" (presumably the earliest of the Wimsey stories) is more a horror story that a mystery. And, as it is being told, by Wimsey, long after the events in the story occurred, there's little suspense. "The Entertaining Episode of the Article in Question" might have been a "fair-play" mystery for a readership with a working knowledge of French; for the rest of us, both Wimsey's interest and the solution remain opaque.
Uncle Meleager's will involves solving an abstruse crossword puzzle in which the grid is the floor of an ornamental pool. The clues will be virtually meaningless to today's readers; whether their contemporary readers will find them less obscure is beyond me. (An example couplet-clue: Foolish or wise, yet one remains alone/'Twixt strength and Justice on a heavenly throne." (Virgo)
I could go on, I suppose, but I'm not sure it's worth it. As artifacts, they are of interest, and Sayers writes well (even when the matte is minimal). These are, I think, for completists only.
Friday, March 23, 2018
Wednesday, March 14, 2018
Jill Paton Walsh, A Piece of Justice
Jill Paton Walsh, A
Piece of Justice
St. Martin’s Press © 1995 Jill Paton Walsh
Out-of-print, but available from used booksellers
Out-of-print, but available from used booksellers
The second book featuring Imogen Quy, the resident nurse at
St. Agatha’s College at Cambridge University.
Her lodger, Frances Bullion, has been asked to ghost-write the biography
of a (dead) mathematician (Gideon Summerfield), whose career consists, really,
of one brilliant discovery. Fran badly
needs the job—she wants to finish her doctorate--and a new member of the
faculty at St. Agatha’s, Leo Maverack, has contracted to write it, but wants
not to. Fran gets the money, Maverack
gets his name on the book.
Meanwhile, Imogen and some friends are preparing to make a
quilt to be sold for charity, and we are treated to a discussion of their
process. (Later on, an art historian, whose
specialty deals with textiles, presents a rather remarkable lecture on the
subject, which might be worth the price of the book. Both the discussion of quilting and the
lecture made me wish for visuals (and this is something that might be possible
to do these days, by having a website associated with the book that would allow
us to see, as well as read about, these things).
Things quickly become complicated. Maverack is not the first to have been signed
to write the book. Or the second…he’s
the fourth, which is distinctly odd. And none of the other three seem to be
available for consultation; one has certainly died, and the other two are
nowhere to be found. However, it does
mean most of the research has been done.
But Fran discovered that, in the detailed chronology of Summerfield’s
life, there is a blank—there is no record of what he did in the summer of 1978,
and Fran id determined to fill in that blank.
I might note that Prof. Maverack is a biographer…but not in
the sense that he writes biographies. He
is a theorist of biographies, and his
exposition of his theory of biographies (pp. 31-34) might actually be worth the
price of the book.
And things get even more complicated. Summerfield’s widow gets a court order for
the return of all materials that she had provided when the biography was first
proposed.
Fran takes off for Wales, where she expects, or hopes, to
find an answer to the mystery of the summer of 1978.
Not surprisingly, as this is, after all, a mystery novel,
things are both more obscure, more dangerous, and more inter-connected than they
appeared at the beginning. Imogen, of course,
gets deeply involved, and in the course of her involvement makes discoveries
that are central to all the mysteries.
I enjoyed the first book in this series (The Wyndham Case) quite a lot; this is,
I think, even better. The resolution,
when we get there (and this is not a long book) seems almost inevitable, but
also almost shocking. Not only are all
the mysteries resolved, but a real injustice is righted. So I will move on to Book 3 in the series (A Debt of Dishonour) with great
anticipation.
Monday, March 12, 2018
Michael Innes, Death At the President’s Lodging
Michael Innes, Death
At the President’s Lodging
House of Stratus reprint 2001
© Estate of JIM Stewart 1936 (and renewed)
ISBN this edition: 1-84232-732-1
House of Stratus reprint 2001
© Estate of JIM Stewart 1936 (and renewed)
ISBN this edition: 1-84232-732-1
I’ve read several of Michael Innes’s mysteries featuring
John Appleby, but never this one, which was the first to appear. I don’t recall what brought it to my
attention, and I remembered almost nothing of the ones I have read, but good
series are hard to find. And so I bought
it and read it.
And I’m not entirely sure.
Appleby is an appealing character, polished, erudite, and just
introspective enough to have some depth.
In this, his first case, he is summoned to a small college, St. Anthony’s
(not a part of Oxford or Cambridge; Innes, under his own name John Innes Mackintosh
Stewart, taught literature at the University of Leeds, the University of
Adelaide, and Queen’s University in Belfast before becoming a “fellow” of
Christ Church College at Oxford). There,
the President of the College, Dr. Josiah Umpleby, has been murdered; his
personal servant/butler (Mr. Slotwiner) and one of the faculty at the college
(Mr. Titlow) heard a gunshot from inside Umpleby’s lodgings at about 11
PM. Upon obtaining a key, they found him
on the floor, with a bullet hole in his forehead, and his body encircled by old
bones (quite obviously from some archeological expedition).
Umpleby’s relations with his faculty, we discover, are not
as cordial as one would like. And things
are complicated by the fact that the murderer apparently entered through the
College gardens, access to which was quite limited at night. It was closes off by gates and only 9 people
(the head porter; Umpeyby; and 7 of the faculty) had keys. And new locks had just been installed, with
the keys distributed that day. So we
have a sort-of locked room mystery, but that’s not really the focus of the
investigation.
The book proceeds at a very leisurely pace, including what
seemed to me to be a wholly unnecessary sub-plot involving a small group of undergraduates
(the only students, really, who appear in the book). Appleby is the only person sent from London
to investigate the murder (in this respect, Ngaio Marsh’s Roderick Alleyn books
seem much more authentic, as they usually involve a full investigative team);
he proceeds by conversing at length with each of the members of the faculty who
feature in the book. (I should note that
one of the faculty involved is a mystery novelist writing under a
pseudonym.) The conclusion is, it seems
to me, somewhat forced, and not really grounded (as far as I can tell) in
anything Appleby has discovered. And the
denouement seems to go on forever.
For all that, it’s well written, and Appleby, as I have
said, is an engaging character. I’ll
probably read more of these, but it won’t be a priority.
Friday, March 9, 2018
Jill Paton Walsh, The Wyndham Case
Jill Paton Walsh, The
Wyndham Case
St. Martin’s Press
© 1993 Jill Paton Walsh
Available from used booksellers
St. Martin’s Press
© 1993 Jill Paton Walsh
Available from used booksellers
There’s been a lively discussion on the Lord Peter Wimsey
Appreciation Society Facebook page which has touched on the quality of Jill
Paton Walsh’s continuation of Dorothy L. Sayers’s series of novels about
Wimsey. Having read one of Paton Walsh’s
mystery novels (The Bad Quarto) some
years ago, I acquired all four of them to see how well they have held up.[1] Having finished The Wyndham Case, I can say that at least the first in the series is
quite good.
The title is itself interesting, as the death at the center
of the book takes place in a rather special library at Cambridge known as the
Wyndham Case, and the investigation into that death is, of course, the Wyndham
case. A young student (Philip Skellow) at
St. Agatha’s College, from a decidedly working class background (and as a
result treated by many of his fellow students as something of a lesser being)
is found one morning on the floor of the Wyndham case, with a serious injury to
his skull, having bled to death. Imogen
Quy, the College’s resident nurse, is asked to come to the library; she calls
the police, as it is obviously a death by violence, A friend of hers, Mike Parsons, is a detective
on the Cambridge police; he is a member of the team that arrives to investigate
the death.
As it happens, this library was founded by a (very large)
donation some 300 years earlier. The
books are to remain in the library; they can be read or examined only there; no
volume may be loaned out or sold. And
once every 100 years a complete audit of the library must be performed. If anything is missing, the College loses the
endowment and all the books are to be sold.
Also, as it happens, Skellow left a party in the suite of rooms he
shares with Jack Taverham (who is from a wealthy family) the night before, and
was next seen dead. (Taverham and Skellow
got along very badly.) And none of the
people at the party are willing to talk about it.
Meanwhile, one of Quy’s lodgers, Professor Wylie, returns
from a trip to Italy and discovers, or at least thinks, that a very valuable
book has been taken from his room. And
apparently one of her other lodgers left the rear door unlocked around the same
time. Or someone picked the lock.
One thing leads to another, and a second death—definitely murder—occurs;
a third year pre-med student is found in an ornamental fountain late at night,
drowned. And Taverham has disappeared.
The investigations into all of this are handled well, and
the resolution is both intellectually and emotionally satisfying (at least I
thought so). For a first mystery (Paton
Walsh had written a number of children’s books and “straight” novels prior),
this is a very satisfying read. The
setting is well done, the college atmosphere rings true (as well as one who
have never been to Cambridge can tell), and the characters—while not uniformly
quite so nice as they might originally appear—are sharply drawn. Both the Master of St. Agatha’s and his wife
are especially well done.
And if you think setting a mystery series in a college of
Cambridge University named St. Agatha’s is extremely appropriate, well, all I
can say is “You are right.”
[1] Her four books with Imogen Quy
are The Wyndham Case (1993); A Piece of Justice (1997)’ Debts of Dishonor (2006; and The Bad Quarto (2007).
Sunday, March 4, 2018
Copycat photoblogging, war memorial edition
Chris has a dyptich of a British war memorial which is stark in its beauty
(http://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/04/sunday-photoblogging-liverpool-cenotaph/#comments). I have a small memorial plaque in a small town in France.
(http://crookedtimber.org/2018/03/04/sunday-photoblogging-liverpool-cenotaph/#comments). I have a small memorial plaque in a small town in France.
Friday, March 2, 2018
Rex Stout, Homicide Trinity
Rex Stout, Homicide TrinityViking Press, 1962; Bantam reprint, 1993
Three of the stronger of the short mysteries, and Hattie Annis, Wolfe's client in "Counterfeit for Murder" is a magnificent achievement. One thing I liked especially was, when she was asked what she would like for luncheon, she responds: "How about some lamb kidneys bourguignonne?" As if, or course, lamb kidneys would be available...and, of course, they are. A truly nice bit involves the efforts of a U.S. Treasury agent and Inspector Cramer to gain possession of $10,000 in brand new (in every sense of the word) $20s. The identity of the murderer is not hard to figrue out, though.
In "Eeny, AMeeny, Murder, Mo," the least of these three, Wolfe gets a spot of barbecue sauce on his tie at lunch, and leaves it on his desk when he leaves for the afternoon orchid session. While he's up on the roof, a legal secretary at a prestigious law firm arrives with an interesting legal problem--but it involves a divorce case. Wolfe, on principal, refuses to handle anything dealing with divorce. But Archie undertakes to talk him into it, and ascends to the greenhouse. While he's upstairs, the potential client is murdered--strangled with the tie. There is one aspect of the plot that strikes me as extraordinarily unlikely.
And in "Death of a Demon," a PR "expert" is murdered and an identical gun winds up in his wife's possession (and, through her, Wolfe's). The twists with the guns provides the main interest in the plot; the evidence Wolfe can provide about the murderer is somewhat speculative. But Archie shines as a tough-guy detective.
© 1962 Rex Stout
Three novellas: "Eeny, Meeny, Murder, Mo;" "Death of a Demon; "Counterfeit for Murder." Three of the stronger of the short mysteries, and Hattie Annis, Wolfe's client in "Counterfeit for Murder" is a magnificent achievement. One thing I liked especially was, when she was asked what she would like for luncheon, she responds: "How about some lamb kidneys bourguignonne?" As if, or course, lamb kidneys would be available...and, of course, they are. A truly nice bit involves the efforts of a U.S. Treasury agent and Inspector Cramer to gain possession of $10,000 in brand new (in every sense of the word) $20s. The identity of the murderer is not hard to figrue out, though.
In "Eeny, AMeeny, Murder, Mo," the least of these three, Wolfe gets a spot of barbecue sauce on his tie at lunch, and leaves it on his desk when he leaves for the afternoon orchid session. While he's up on the roof, a legal secretary at a prestigious law firm arrives with an interesting legal problem--but it involves a divorce case. Wolfe, on principal, refuses to handle anything dealing with divorce. But Archie undertakes to talk him into it, and ascends to the greenhouse. While he's upstairs, the potential client is murdered--strangled with the tie. There is one aspect of the plot that strikes me as extraordinarily unlikely.
And in "Death of a Demon," a PR "expert" is murdered and an identical gun winds up in his wife's possession (and, through her, Wolfe's). The twists with the guns provides the main interest in the plot; the evidence Wolfe can provide about the murderer is somewhat speculative. But Archie shines as a tough-guy detective.
Rex Stout, Three at Wolfe's Door
Rex Stout, Three at
Wolfe’s Door
Viking Press, 1960. Bantam reprint 1995.
© Rex Stout 1960
Viking Press, 1960. Bantam reprint 1995.
© Rex Stout 1960
Theree novellas, all originally published in 1960: "Poison ala Carte," "Method
Three for Murder," and "The Rodeo Murder." All three are excellent, but there was one
thing about "The Rodeo Murder" that made me wonder. As Wolfe is about to disclose the murderer,
he deals with motive, and addresses Harvey Greve (one of the cowboys in town as
a performer for the rodeo; Harvey will return in Death of a Dude):
“Mr. Greve, you told
Mr. Panzer that in the past two years you have purchased some three hundred
horses, two hundred steers, and a hundred and fifty calves. In behalf of my
Dunning. Is that correct?”
Harvey didn’t look happy either. “That’s about right, He said. “That’s just rough figures.”
“From how many people did you buy them?”
“Maybe a hundred maybe more. I scouted around.”
…
“You are exposing a man who made you a party to a swindle and who is almost certainly a murderer. Did he tell you not to divulge the amounts?”
…
“…and I have the names of three other men who made similar purchases under similar arrangements…”
Harvey didn’t look happy either. “That’s about right, He said. “That’s just rough figures.”
“From how many people did you buy them?”
“Maybe a hundred maybe more. I scouted around.”
…
“You are exposing a man who made you a party to a swindle and who is almost certainly a murderer. Did he tell you not to divulge the amounts?”
…
“…and I have the names of three other men who made similar purchases under similar arrangements…”
Now, I know next to nothing about professional rodeos. But if
four men were buying livestock in that quantity, we have over 1,000 horses and
nearly 1,000 steers and around 600 calves in two years. Based on a little google research, I’m coming
up with around $200-$300 for the steers, $50-75 for the calves, and $100 - $200
for the horses. So (taking the mid-range
values), Greve paid $150,000 for horses, $250,000 for the steers, and $37,500
for the calves—over $400,000 in a 2 year period. With 3 others presumably doing the same, that’s
about $1.2 million in livestock purchases.
Presumably these guys got paid for this (let’s say a 10% commission,
around $120,000 in total). And the
promoter presumably marked the animals up enough not just to make a reasonable
profit, but an unreasonable one.
All of that’s well and good.
But we have 4,000 horses, 4,000 steers, and 2,400 calves…over two years…for
rodeos? And presumably all (or mostly)
sold to a NYC theatrical promoter? Color
me skeptical. Surely he had
lawyers. Surely he had people who could
talk to people. What in god’s name did
he do with all the damned animals?
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