In Reference to Murder

Forgotten Books Friday - A Different Kind of Summer

Gwendoline Butler (b. 1922) had limited success as a writer before she began a police procedural series featuring a young Scotland Yard Inspector, John Coffin, penning eight Coffin novels between 1956 and 1962. When Butler's husband took a job teaching in St. Andrews, Scotland, the author decided she wanted a change from Coffin and found her inspiration one day when she saw a young red-haired Scottish policewoman. She later asked the local police chief about the young officer and was told she was a recent graduate on a rapid promotion track. Thus was born the character of Detective Charmian Daniels of the fictional Deerham Hill CID and, as some have given credit to the author (written under her pen name of Jennie Melville), the birth also of the woman's police procedural.

Melville also dipped her pen into the romantic suspense well for a time, evening receiving a Romantic Novelists Association Major Award in 1981, but eventually returned to both Inspector Coffin and Detective Daniels. She went on to write over 70 novels and was a recipient of the Crime Writers Association Silver Dagger in 1973 and shortlisted for the Golden Dagger for another novel.

One critic elevated Melville/Butler to a status equal to the Four Great Founding Mothers: Christie, Sayers, Allingham and Marsh, not only due to their writing, but in light of how many other elements they had in common: all well-educated (Butler lectured at Oxford), all prolific writers, all wrote on subjects other than detective fiction, and four of the group had supportive husbands. If she is not as well remembered as the others, it may be due to the fact that writers who she helped paved the way for, such as P.D. James and Ruth Rendell, eventually eclipsed her in acclaim.

Melville's writing of her female detective, Charmian Daniels, shows elements of early feminism and as the character grew through the years, Detective Daniels also reflected the changing roles of women and attitudes toward them, particularly in a traditional man's field, law enforcement. Daniels grows in her career through time and is eventually promoted to Chief Superintendent with a move to Windsor. In an interview with Clues: A Journal of Detection in 2000, Butler said, "I was determined she [Daniels] should be a success and I suppose in a sense I was basing her on what would have happened to me if I'd remained in academic life when on the whole in my day, even more so now, women do climb the ladder. I was in the generation that was expecting to be successful as a woman in whatever field they ventured."  

In Melville's A Different Kind of Summer, dating from 1967, the fifth outing for Detective Daniels, Daniels is still a sergeant when an unidentified body arrives on a train into town in a coffin minus head or hands. It's up to Daniels to figure out which of many missing women this could be, including an increasing number of young girls vanishing in London. As she gets deeper into the case, she tries to stay objective and focused even as she starts receiving menacing phone calls and has to deal with a new young assistant, Christine Quinn, and a hysterical troublemaker who claims she's lost her sister.

There's been a lot of hue and cry lately about the amount of violence against women in crime fiction novels, and a mutilated female corpse would fall into that category, but in a commentary included in the original publication of A Different Kind of Summer, Melville said that she was interested in people committing crimes and why some people, usually women, form the victim syndrome, in that the bad guys sense these victims are afraid (a reason why policewomen acting as decoys often fail to lure attackers, because their sense of confidence is too obvious).

Melville has a low-key writing style, blending social commentary with quirky characters, detailed plotting and thoughtful writing for the most part, although in general, it's her novels with Inspector John Coffin where she's had her greatest success. One wonders if writing from a woman's point of view was too close to home to provide the inspirational distance required or if perhaps the fact the author's brother was Warden of the Toynbee Settlement in London gave her more of a first-hand experience with male protagonists. In either case, with Melvill's Daniels or Butler's Coffin, there's a lot of good material there, enough to show that grouping her with the "Four Great Founding Mothers" isn't that much of a stretch. If you're a fan of the "Golden Age" of detective fiction, then you'll enjoy these series.

Forgotten Books Friday — A Country Kind of Death

Mary McMullen (1920-1986), a/k/a Mary Reilly Wilson, had an interesting writing pedigree. Her mother was the distinguished and prolific mystery writer, Helen Reilly, which brings up interesting comparisons between them and the  mother/daughter duo, Mary Higgins Clark and Carol Higgins Clark, although I daresay the Clarks are more successful financially. Mary McMullen, however, also had a sister, Ursula Curtiss, who was a suspense author, and her uncle James Kieran wrote mystery fiction (yet another family member, John F. Kieran, was a sportswriter and long-time panelist on the1940s radio program Information Please).

McMullen had early success in 1952 when she received the Edgar Award for Best First Novel, Stranglehold, but didn't publisher another novel for over two decades until 1974 and then, in a flurry of activity, cranked out 18 additional mysteries in just 12 years.

Her stories often drew on the advertising and fashion worlds she was familiar with and her settings included sleepy hamlets, but her writing was neither cozy nor noir, a hybrid which reviewer Steve Lewis called "domestic malice" with a lot of bite. A Country Kind of Death from 1975 starts out as an idyllic summer for the young daughters of the Keane family who pass the two months their mother is off in Europe inventing murder stories, not surprising since their father is a crime writer. But when the stories become all too real, everyone including the police wants to believe a mysterious death was an accident, since the alternative is an unthinkable crime committed by someone in their midst.

McMullen's writing is filled with details that evoke a distinctive sense of place and she also possessed a wry, ironic humor and enjoyed poking fun at pretentious people. The Keane family is a semi-Bohemian clan and neighbors to the unfortunate Mrs. Mint, who

"did not allow the Keanes or her stepchildren or any but the most honored visitors to use the front way, as the door opened directly into her living room, a perfect marvel of cleanliness, cretonne, tautly pinned-on antimacassars, rubber plants so dusted and oiled as to seem artificial, china figurines, tapestry-covered footstools, and fat hard upholstered furniture. There were no books, no magazines, newspapers, or ashtrays in the room and it was always kept dark, the cretonne curtains drawn, the shades down, so that the sun couldn't fade its splendors."

Patrick Keane, brother of the crime-writer father and a successful playwright, plays a crucial role in the denouement and has his own wry observations about the literary and entertainment circles the Keanes run in:

"The dinner party had gone predictably, from the shrimp dip to the cold sliced ham and turkey to Elaine Bonner attacking him fiercely with hot gray eyes and half-bared breasts whenever her husband's back was turned, to the local bon vivant who probably told the same long anecdotes at every Bedford party to the three women who told him they adored his plays to Johnny Coe, urged finally to the piano, and singing, 'Oh Oh Oriole' and 'Pray Forget Me,' this last bringing tears and a meaning look at Patrick to Elaine's eyes."

The strength of this particular novel by McMullen is less in the whodunnit and police procedural aspects which are minimized and more in the characterizations and how human failings and foibles knit closely together to create tragedy.

All of McMullen's books are out of print, although several of her works were included in The Detective Book Club subscription series of 3-in-1 (and some 2-in-1 and singles) reprinted novels by various authors distributed from the early forties onward by publisher Walter J. Black.

Friday's Forgotten Books - Murder at the Villa Rose

British author Alfred Edward Woodley (A.E.W.) Mason, born in 1865, spent much of his career serving in Parliament and in World War I where he worked in naval intelligence. Although his first novel was A Romance at Wastdale, Mason is credited with one of the earliest fictional police detective protagonists, Inspector Hanaud of the French Sûreté. The novel in which Hanaud made his debut was Murder at the Villa Rose, published in 1910.

Mason created Hanaud as an anti-Sherlock Holmes, at least in appearance, a short, broad man who resembles a "prosperous comedian." Hanaud's Watson-esque sidekick is Julius Ricardo, a fussy English dilettante. It's quite possible that Agatha Christie's Hercule Poirot and Arthur Hastings (or possibly Christie's Mr. Satterthwaite) were modeled on the characters of French-speaking Hanaud and Englishman Ricardo.

The plot is based loosely on real cases (a wealthy French widow found murdered in her villa and an English shopkeeper murdered for jewels), and Mason also drew on procedural details from the memoirs of French policemen. Basically, when the elderly and eccentric Mme. D'Auvray is murdered in her home, the Villa Rose, and suspicion falls on her young companion, Celia Harland who's gone missing, Hanaud is called onto the case. But Hanaud solves the crime midway through the book, with the latter half told in flashback as the readers are left to piece together what exactly happened and are challenged to guess the solution to the murder mystery from the clues provided.

Several of Mason's works were later adapted for the silver screen, including four versions of Murder at the Villa Rose, a silent film in 1920 and two "talkies" from 1930 (one in English, one in French), and another in 1940. Mason went on to write four other books featuring Inspector Hanaud, but he's perhaps best known for his novel The Four Feathers (not a crime fiction novel per se), which is one of the most-filmed novels of the 20th century, including the latest incarnation from 2002 with Heath Ledger in the role of Harry Feversham.

A few interesting trivia bits about Mason: England's King George V was a friend and one of his most avid readers; although Mason penned little in the way of spy stories, he was a successful agent for years in Spain and Northern Mexico (it's said he may have foiled a German plot to move anthrax infected livestock into France during WWI); Mason was a failed actor, although he appeared in a small number of works on the London stage during the late 1880s; his story "The Crystal Trench" was adapted for Alfred Hitchcock Presents, one of the few episodes directed by Hitchcock himself; and Mason was offered a knighthood for his literary work, but declined it, saying such honors meant nothing to a childless man.

Forgotten Books Friday, Halloween Edition

He's been called the "Edgar Allan Poe of the 20th century," the "father of noir fiction," "the Hitchcock of the written word," and "our poet of the shadows." It's quite possible more film noir screenplays were adapted from his works than any other crime novelist, including films by Hitchcock, Truffaut and Fassbinder, with many stories also adapted during the 1940s for radio.Yet, when the centennial of his birth rolled around in 2003, few of his works were available in stores in or print, and the date passed with mostly a collective yawn.

Cornell George Hopley-Woolrich, who also wrote under the pseudonyms William Irish and George Hopley, was an eccentric, alcoholic, and a diabetic, who had a leg amputated due to an infection from a too-tight shoe. He was both shy and arrogant, but primarily a loner, who was said to have so few friends he rarely put dedications on his novels, and when he did, they were to things like his Remington Portable typewriter and a hotel room he hated. He was a conflicted homosexual who married briefly as a joke, and ended up living with his mother in a rat-infested Harlem tenement with pimps, prostitutes and criminals, even though they could have afforded better (upon his death, he left a bequest of one million dollars to Columbia University, to fund a scholarship for young writers).

He started out writing romantic fiction imitating F. Scott Fitzgerald, but turned to pulp fiction in 1934 and wrote for magazines like Black Mask, Detective Fiction Weekly and Dime Detective. His golden period came between the years of 1934 to 1948, although he continued to write off and on until his death in 1968. Both his earlier and many of his later works weren't on the same level as the middle output (although he wrote several good later stories for EQMM). Even Francis M. Nevins, Woolrich's literary executor who wrote a critical biography and edited three of the Woolrich short story collections, admitted that "purely on its merits as prose, it's dreadful."

Yet, those middle works included tales like the story "Rear Window" which later became a famous Alfred Hitchcock movie. In the introduction to the Woolrich story collection, Night and Fear, Nevins talks about Woolrich's first crime story, "Death Sits in the Dentist's Chair," which paints a vivid picture of New York City during the Depression, a bizarre murder method (cynanide in a temporary filing), and a race against the clock to save the poisoned protagonist, elements that would become Woolrich hallmarks. Nevins writes "in his tales of 1934-39, Woolrich created, almost from scratch, the builidng blocks of the literature we have come to call noir."

The 14 stories in Night and Fear, published by Otto Penzler in 2004, contain all the elements that came to be associated with Woolrich, including the intense, feverish, irrational nature of his world, and plots often filled with outlandish contrivances and coincidences. But Nevins concludes that "in his most powerful work these are not gaffes but functional elements," and that Woolrich believed "an incomprehensible universe is best reflected in an incomprehensible story." Thus, Woolrich's oft-quoted aphorism, "First you dream, then you die."

In Night and Fear, you'll find stories like "Endicott's Girl," which Woolrich once listed as his personal favorite, about a cop who begins to suspect his beloved teenage daughter is a murderer and covers up the evidence; "Cigarette" where a poison cigarette is passed from person to person; and "New York Blues," which is probably Woolrich's final story, involving the claustrophobic imaginings of a lonely man as he waits for the police in his secluded hotel room for a crime he's not sure he even committed:

It's a woman's scarf; that much I know about it. And that's about all. But whose? Hers? And how did I come by it? How did it get into the side pocket of my jacket, dangling on the outside, when I came in here early Wednesday morning in some sort of traumatic daze, looking for room walls to hide inside of as if they were a folding screen...

It's flimsy stuff, but it has a great tensile strength when pulled against its grain. The strength of the garrote. It's tinted in pastel colors that blend, graduate, into one another, all except one. it goes from a flamingo pink to a peach tone and then to a still paler flesh tint—and then suddenly an angry, jagged splash of blood colors comes in, not even like the other...

The blood isn't red anymore. It's rusty brown now. But it's still blood, all the same. Ten years from now, twenty, it'll still be blood; faded out, vanished, the pollen of, the dust of blood. What was one once warm and moving. And made blushes and rushed with anger and paled with fear. Like that night—

Fortunately you can find more Woolrich works available these days, including re-releases of some of his novels and short stories by Hard Case Crime, Pegasus Books. Random House, and others. Almost any one of his stories would make for fine Halloween fare, as you find yourself sucked down into the nihilistic noir world that Woolrich created.

Friday's "Forgotten" Books

In honor of the current Bouchercon mystery conference, instead of choosing just one "forgotten" book as usual for Patti Abbot's weekly feature, I thought I'd step back in time to 12 years ago and take a look at books honored with Anthony Awards at an earlier Boucheron, which have fallen off the radar.

Bouchercon XXVIII was held in 1997 in Monterey, California. The Guest Of Honor that year was Sara Paretsky, Toastmaster was Julie Smith, and the Lifetime Achievement Award was given to Donald Westlake. When the Anthony Awards were announced, there was a tie for Best First Novel between Death In Little Tokyo by Dale Furutani and Somebody Else's Child by Terris McMahan Grimes (the latter of which also won the Best Paperback Original Award). The Best Critical/Biographical award that year went to Detecting Women II by Willetta Heising. (Best novel, by the way, went to a book by that guy you might have heard a thing or two about, Michael Connelly, for The Poet.)

Little Tokyo, Furutani's first novel, not only won the Anthony in 1997, that same year it won a Macavity Award as well as being nominated for an Agatha. It introduced Ken Tanaka, the first Japanese-American amateur sleuth mystery series written by a Japanese-American. Tanaka  isn't a real P.I. but poses as one for his weekend mystery club, printing up phony business cards, renting a storefront office, and buying a trench coat and fedora, until he gets some real business in the form of a woman who offers him $500 to help extricate her from a blackmail scheme. Little Tokyo was one of only two novels in that series, although Furutani went on to write the Samurai Mystery Trilogy, the last of which was published in 2000.

Somebody Else's Child, by Terris McMahan Grimes, introduced Theresa Galloway, the plus-sized "intrepid soul sister," state employee and married mother of two. When amateur sleuth Galloway learns of a murder and kidnapping in her elderly mother's hometown, she's goaded by her mother into prowling the streets of Sacramento in search of the killer and the dead woman's missing grandchild. Grimes published two additional titles in the Galloway series in 1997 and 2000, but hasn't published since, although her agent is currently shopping a fourth title in the series and Grimes has remained active in literacy programs in her home state of California.

Willetta Heising's Detecting Women II was the latest in a series of mystery reader's guides by Heising, which also included the first Detecting Women, as well as the later books Detecting Men, Willetta's Guide to Private Eye Series, and Wiletta's Guide to Police Detective Series. Detecting Women II is a database of mystery series written by women (up to that point, of course), with a ist of more than 500 authors, 675 series characters and 3,600 titles. There's a short biography and bibliography for each writer, a brief description of detectives in each series, publication dates and awards won. Another section of the book provides lists by mystery type (police procedural, amateurs, or PIs), character, setting, title, and author pseudonym. 

This year's Anthony Awards will be handed out in Indianapolis on Saturday, and for a reminder of all the nominees, check out this conference link.

Friday's Forgotten Books

Barbara D'Amato is the author of two Chicago-based series, one with freelance reporter Cat Marsala and the other being what she calls her "Chicago police series."  The second title in the latter group was 1998's Good Cop, Bad Cop, based on the real-life notorious 1969 Chicago police raid on the Black Panthers, which killed Fred Hampton. D'Amato uses that as a jumping off point to tell a modern-day Cain and Abel story, featuring two sons of a bullying cop father:  Nick Bertolucci, who was part of the Black Panther raid and years later is now Chicago's superintendent of police, and his brother Aldo, the "bad cop" who hates his brother enough to try and sabotage his career after finding evidence that links Nick to one of the deaths in the assault. D'Amato throws in an interesting cast of supporting characters, including Suze Figueroa, the detective who's brought back from D'Amato's first Chicago Police Series novel, Killer.App (1996).

D'Amato prides herself on her research, spending time with cops and walking her mysteries through Chicago's neighborhoods to figure out the timing of crimes. Although she says her favorite author is Agatha Christie ("no wasted words, and plots like steel traps"), she uses a punchy, staccato style better suited to the gritty day-to-day details from cops on the beat, and ratchets up the page-turning quotient with short sentences, paragraphs and chapters. She even adds some dark humor into the mix—not surprising she's worked as carpenter for stage magic illusions, assistant tiger handler, and written musical comedies—as with this scene after a body is found on the rail tracks:

Fiddleman got up the el stairs faster than Reilly, who was a fat, pink-colored white man of forty-five.

Fiddleman approached the stock-still el train, on which a few dazed night workers sat. He guessed there were maybe six people on the train, at what was now 1:17.

Three of the passengers, as well as the train's engineer, had got out. A middle-aged man in a camel hair jacket was throwing up at the far end of the station, which was only fifteen feet away, not nearly far enough.

An elderly woman, easily seventy-five, wearing carpet slippers with slits cut for her corns despite the cold weather, was looking down at the tracks. Fiddleman was about to take her gently by the shoulders and move her away from the horrible scene when she said, "Christ, and I just had liver for dinner."

Fiddleman hoped she was speaking from some sort of civilian shock. Then he thought in an instant's flash of remorse, who do I know what sort of life she's had, she's here on the el at this hour, this weather? At her age.

Then he looked down at the track and understood what she meant.

When asked once what Chicago has to offer mystery writers, she replied, "Chicago has absolutely everything. It's a beautiful city. It has architecture you'll never see anywhere else. And it has a lot of places to hide. There are a lot of old tunnels in Chicago—there are old freight tunnels, abandoned subway tunnels. You can hide here. You can also blend in. Chicago has every ethnic neighborhood known to man. There are so many neighborhoods where you can blend in, depending on how you dress."

Good Cop Bad Cop won the 1998 Carl Sandburg Award for Excellence in Fiction and the Readers Choice Award Lovey Award at the 1999 Love is Murder Conference. D'Amato is also is a past president of the Mystery Writers of America and of Sisters in Crime International.

Forgotten Books Friday: Bleeding of the Innocents

Today's selection for Patti Abbot's Forgotten Books Friday is a novel by author Jo Bannister, a former journalist who was born in Rochdale, Lancashire, and currently lives in Northern Ireland. She's the author of over 30 novels and has received recognition from the Royal Society of Arts and the British Press Awards and garnered an Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine Readers' Award in 1988.

She has several series including the Castlemere books, the very first of which was titled A Bleeding of Innocents, published in 1993, featuring a trio of police detectives. The story opens at a funeral for a dead policeman, soon followed by a case handed to Detective Superintendent Frank Shapiro, who has brought in the ambitious DI Liz Graham to take over after the policeman's death. The dead policeman's partner, Sgt.Cal Donovan, tries to get over the guilt surrounding his partner's murder, which he blames on a local crime baron. The case they're given is that of a young nurse shot in her car, but it's soon followed by the death of a surgeon who used to work with the murdered nurse. Making things worse, a third member of the same operating-room team, the anaesthetist, seems to be next in line, pointing to a serial killer. Then there's the matter of who killed Cal's partner adding to the mix.

Bannister is particularly known for her skillful plotting and convincing characterization. (The New York Times Book Review said "Jo Bannister scores high on character with her persuasive insights into the psychological responses to pain").

In an interview with Gerard Brennan via his blog Crime Scene NI, the author talked about her writing:

"I used to be a lot more disciplined about writing than I am now – working 8 to 12 and 7 to 9 six days a week. One of the advantages of getting older is that you no longer feel the need to do everything yesterday. When I’m in the middle of a book I aim at producing a thousand words a day. Sometimes I struggle; sometimes I’m on a roll and produce a lot more. But I don’t beat myself up if nothing much is happening, just keep trying until it does. There are more than thirty of my books on the shelves: if the next is a little late, people can read one of the earlier ones while they’re waiting."

She also discussed her worst writing experience involving a heavy-handed editor: "She was a zealot. And she thought...that she could improve something on just about every page," and gave her very sage advice for writing greenhorns:  "Do it for your own pleasure. There are easier ways to make a living."

Bannister's other novels include several police procedurals and a series featuring Brodie Farrell who runs Looking for Something?—an eclectic problem-solving agency in Dimmock, England.

Forgotten Friday and Some First Cases

Before they were stars, everyone’s favorite literary private eyes had to start somewhere. Many jumped to life fully-formed in novels, but others began their lives in short stories. Robert Randisi, a lifelong champion of P.I. fiction and founder of the Private Eye Writers of America (PWA), in addition to being an author himself, put together a collection of First Cases: First Appearances of Classic Private Eyes in 1996. Fortunately, that volume was successful enough that Randisi was able to compile three additional collections, the last in 2002.

The 1996 volume (and the one that started it all) includes stories in which now-beloved protagonists first saw the light of day, such as Bill Pronzini’s Nameless Detective in “It’s  a Lousy World,” first published in Alfred Hitchcock Mystery Magazine in 1968; Joe Gores’s Dan Kearny and company in “File #1: The Mayfield Case,” printed in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine in 1968 (a banner year, it seems); Linda Barnes’s Carlotta Carlyle in “Lucky Penny,” published in New Black Mask in 1986; and Robert Randisi’s own ex-boxer Miles Jacoby in “The Steinway Collection,” first published in Mystery Monthly in 1977.

Other entries are the first short story appearances of detectives who had already made a splash in a novel, such as Lawrence Block’s Matthew Scudder in “Out of the Window,”  Sara Paretsky’s V.I. Warshawski  in “The Takamoku Joseki,” and Max Allan Collins’s Nathan Heller in “The Strawberry Teardrop,” all three of which were published just barely one year after each character’s debut novel.

Most of these authors and their detectives went on to win major awards, including several Shamus nods--awards Randisi initiated as part of the PWA. In this book and the following volumes, the stories and characters include hard-boiled and soft-boiled, covering a range of settings (Block’s Manhattan, Jeremiah Healy’s Boston, Gores’s San Francisco), but the most interesting aspect, as Randisi says, “It’s interesting to go back and read an early story about a series character. In some cases the character you meet is very different from the character as he or she appears in later stories.” In some cases, these include a switch of POVs from third to first, or major life changes as with Block’s pre-AA Scudder who still drinks bourbon with his coffee.

These collections should be both inspiration and caveat to contemporary writers of crime fiction short stories. If you’re fortunate enough to produce a long-lived private eye series after having auditioned the character first in the short format, you might just wind up in a future Randisi anthology. So make it good and make it count.

Forgotten Books Friday

Viewed from a contemporary perspective, it's hard to recall a time when there weren't female detectives the likes of V.I. Warshawski, Kinsey Millhone, Tess Monaghan and Sharon McCone, but back in the 1930s they were almost nonexistent. As a child I went through my fair share of Nero Wolfe stories by Rex Stout, among the many books read under the covers with a flashlight to circumvent the parental "go to bed" commandment. But at the time I never read or even knew of Stout's female detective Theodolinda "Dol" Bonner, who came to being in the standalone novel The Hand in the Glove in 1937, one of the very first female private eyes.

Although Stout only gave Bonner one solo outing, she also guest-starred in some of the Nero Wolfe stories, one of the few women Wolfe tolerated perhaps because she herself claimed to have been "inoculated against" men, even her suitor, the newspaperman Len Chisholm. Although The Hand in the Glove is a contemporary of the Nero Wolfe/Archie Goodwin titles, it was written in the third person narrative, not Archie's sarcastic first-person. Even so, it still has some of the hallmark wit that graces the Wolfe/Goodwin novels. In the book, a religious charlatan has charmed the wife of wealthy industrialist, P.L. Storrs, who decides he needs a private investigator to look into the man and hires Bonner, even though he doesn't approve of female detectives. But when she arrives at Storrs' country estate, she instead finds the body of her client and a garden party filled with a bouquet of suspects.

Bonner isn't quite the fully realized, tough-as-nails P.I. of the 21st century, sending out mixed messages about her ability to do the job as a woman, perhaps mirroring the changing-but-still-traditional views of women in Stout's day. Bonner begins the novel as part of a two-woman firm, Bonner and Raffray, although the Raffray half soon dissolves, Bonner being disgusted about Raffray's submissiveness to her fiancée. Yet, Bonner concedes she herself decided to be a detective on flimsy grounds, adding, "I made a long list of all the activities I might undertake on my own. They all seemed monotonous or distasteful except two or three, and I flipped a coin to decide between detective and landscape design." Although she's a smart cookie and solves the crimes where the male detectives in the case don't, she's also squeamish about seeing corpses and faints after she shoots a criminal.

After Dol first appeared, Stout's New York editor wrote to her London counterpart, "The Hand in the Glove is doing almost as well as Nero, but whether or not there will be another Dol Bonner mystery we can't be sure." Turns out, it was twenty years later that she reappeared, as Wolfe's operative in the 1956 Too Many Detectives. Anthony Boucher noted of these later appearances, that while Bonner was Archie's age, it was Wolfe who made "sheep's eyes" at her, inviting her to breakfast and dinner and seating her at his right. The confused Archie, taken by Bonners' pretty assistant Sally Colt, wonders if "there might be some flaw in my attitude toward female dicks," and concludes, "If she hooks him and Sally hooks me, we can can all solve cases together and dominate the field."

The Thrilling Detective site points out that In 1992, NBC dusted off the rights to The Hand In The Glove and made a TV movie (under the title Lady Against the Odds) as a vehicle for actress Crystal Bernard (of the sitcom Wings), moving the setting up a few years to World War II. According to People Magazine, it was an "uninvolving and ludicrously unconvincing...turkey."  Still, it did win an Outstanding Individual Achievement in Cinematography for a Miniseries or a Special for cinematographer Bradford May. So at least it looked marvelous.

Forgotten Books Friday

Tell most authors they must write 10,000 words a day — in longhand — toward the goal of creating some 600 books in their lifetime, and they would likely say something along the lines of (in polite terms), "it can't be done." Tell most critics that the author of the book in your hand is indeed that prolific and they'd likely say (in polite terms), "then it must be crap."

John Creasey inspired such amazement and skepticism from other authors as well as critics, but when it came down to the readers, they voted with their wallets. By the time of Creasey's death in 1973, over 80 million copies of his books (written under 28 different pseydonyms) in 5000 different editions in 28 languages had been sold around the world. It wasn't even as if the man sat chained to a desk all day — he also managed to establish the Crime Writers’ Association, create his very own mystery magazine, and still had time left over to found a political party in his native England. (One note about persistence: Creasey supposedly received 743 rejection slips before he sold his first book.)

When I was a child, I was introduced to Creasey's work through his series featuring The Honourable Richard Rollison (a/k/a The Toff), a nobleman and amateur crime solver aided by his manservant, Jolly. Creasey's most critically-acclaimed work, however, came via his police procedurals with protagonist Commander George Gideon of London's Scotland Yard, penned under the name J. J. Marric, which inspired a TV series and movie. According to an apocryphal story, one of Creasey's neighbors, a London police inspector, challenged the author with the words "Why don't you show us as we are?" and the next year Cresey published his first Inspector West police procedural book (the first of forty such novels), the success of which led to Gideon in the 1950s.

In 1955, writing for the New York Times Book Review, Anthony Boucher thought Creasey/Marric's Gideon's Day was the author's best book ever, saying,

''Nobody could make a regular career of presenting in some 75,000 words a half dozen or more plots, plus a technical study of Scotland Yard procedure, plus a realistic analysis of the characters of policemen and criminals. However, the incredible Mr. Creasey has calmly gone on presenting us with a Gideon novel each year, all of high quality." 

Likewise, H. R. F. Keating, the crime books reviewer for the London Times for 15 years, chose Gideon's Week as one of his "100 Best Crime and Mystery Books [from 1845 to 1986]."

The book which finally won Creasey the Edgar Award from the Mystery Writers of America, however, was Gideon's Fire, in 1962. George Gideon, Commander of the C.I.D., is met at the office one morning with the beginnings of a very bad day: the news of a sex maniac who raped and murdered a 14-year-old girl, and an arson fire in an old tenement building which wiped out a family of seven. In a style which has since become commonplace for police procedurals, Creasey weaves these and other autonomous story lines throughout the book, including a case of stock fraud; a man who is suspected of killing two former mistresses; a bank robbery with the mastermind still at large, and an ugly family crisis building up in Gideon's own home, managing to tie up all plots by the end.

The book also exhibits the authentic earthy police procedural style Creasey used in this particular series, as well as his sympathetic treatment of many of his characters, culminating in the man Gideon, who feels a oneness with his city, London, and an abiding empathy with crime victims. Creasey once said,

"My characters live in my mind...I can see them and hear them much more clearly than most people whom I know in life...it never occurs to me that they don't exist."

For more Forgotten Books Friday, check out bookmeister Patti Abbott's site.