The Bus Station Murders/No Pockets in Shrouds, by Louisa Revell

 

"...murder isn't a very nice ladylike hobby, I know ..."

9798886011265

Stark House Press, 2025

originally published 1947/1948 respectively

292 pp

paperback

Coming to Stark House in January 2025 is another set of two novels in one volume, written by a woman whose work, I thought, had been all but forgotten, Louisa Revell.  It is so nice that Stark House has chosen to bring at least these two back into print, The Bus Station Murders and No Pockets in Shrouds, both set during World War II in 1945.    As I started reading the first of the two  it wasn't too long before I realized that I'd read it before. I mean, seriously, there just aren't all that many mystery novels that begin with someone being stabbed by a knitting needle while on a bus so it was easily recognizable.  I'd also posted about it some time ago here  when I was first exploring forgotten and neglected women authors from the past, which has now become one of my crime/mystery-reading passions.  The very awesome people at Stark House have not only helped to support my indulgence with their wonderful reprint editions, and but have also introduced me to women writers I've never heard of.  My thanks to them for this copy.  

As I noted in my original post about The Bus Station Murders, which is the first in a series featuring Miss Julia Tyler, crime just seems to follow her whenever she's away from home.  In this story, she has gone to visit her great-niece Anne and her husband in Annapolis, and she hasn't even gotten off the bus there when a few of the passengers notice a "gray-haired woman" who seems to be deep in slumber  even though the noise should have been enough to wake her.  In fact, Miss Julia's seatmate wonders aloud how anyone could remain asleep through all of the hubbub but it turns out that "the woman was dead," having been stabbed by a silver knitting needle.  Needless to say, although she's a bit reluctant to take part in any sort of investigation, she is eventually talked into it by the lead detective on the case who, as she discovers, is one of her former students.  He changes her mind by saying that he's hoping she'll become "another Miss Marple or Miss Silver" and that he can definitely use her help. 

These are not just idle words; Julia has a great fondness for crime novels, especially those written by Mary Roberts Rinehart, Agatha Christie, Mignon Eberhart and other famous female crime writers; in No Pockets in Shrouds she also references E. Phillips Oppenheim , a hugely-prolific writer (whose book Ghosts of Society has also recently been reprinted by Stark House and which I've commented on here). 

from PS Publishing (the nerve of the designer of this book cover, for reasons which will go unsaid!) 

No Pockets in Shrouds is book number two in this series.  Miss Julia's visit with her niece has come to a close after four months, and after a suggestion by Anne that she go somewhere nice while her house is being rented out, sixty-eight year old Julia decides that perhaps Louisville, Kentucky is the place to be.  She has an old friend named Charlotte Buckner who had read about her bus-station adventures and had invited Julia to "make her a visit" at her home there.   Three or so months later, Julia had seen Charlotte's photo in a newspaper article describing the murder of the Helm family butler, along with a young member of the Helm family who had been suspected of that death.  Charlotte had long been connected with the Helms, and Julia, even though she finds Charlotte "tiresome," she decides that Louisville is where she should go next.  As she said about her choice of vacation venue, "I went where murder was."  The butler's murder is still  unsolved, while she doesn't believe Charlotte's notion that the murderer must have been a tramp, Julia hopes that she will be able to do some  sleuthing to see if she can make any headway in discovering the identity of the killer.  What she doesn't count on is another murder which takes place during her time with Charlotte; the sad thing is that the killer is most likely someone she knows.    

It may well be wartime, but prominent Louisville society ("all the nice families") continues with its rituals -- the telephone is silent after ten a.m. when calls become those of the in-person sort; there are afternoon receptions and the social niceties continue to observed. The biggest interruption, it seems, is that the Kentucky Derby would not be keeping its regular May schedule.  It is because of being in this milieu that  Julia has to tread carefully, but despite everything, she will not stop until she gets to the truth.  

I will just say that there are a few cringeworthy reading moments when it comes to race, but I do appreciate that Stark House didn't go down the route taken by a few publishers to clean it all up to reflect modern sensibilities.  I once read a modern redo of No Orchids for Miss Blandish that was completely sanitized and it really pissed me off.  I remember saying at the time that Shakespeare would likely be next.   Back to the business at hand though,  even though she understands that "murder isn't a very nice ladylike hobby," Miss Julia Tyler and her adventures in sleuthing make for a truly fun read -- while the solutions to these mysteries may take their time, it is  totally worth it for readers of vintage crime, especially American vintage crime.  While you shouldn't expect carbon copies of Miss Marple or any of her British fictional counterparts here, Miss Julia certainly shares with them the ability to quietly soak up the scene on the sidelines before she makes her move.  I hope that in the future Stark House will be so kind as to continue to reprint Revell's work.  Definitely different, and definitely recommended.  As always, do not miss the intro by Curtis Evans but save it until after you've finished reading both books.  

Ghosts of Society, by E. Phillips Oppenheim

 

9798886011203

Stark House Press, 2024

originally published 1908

235 pp

paperback

Ghosts of Society was originally published as The Distributors in 1908, coming at number thirty-two in author E. Phillips Oppenheim's (1866 - 1946) published novels, the first having been published in 1887.   He was incredibly prolific in his writing, publishing well over one hundred novels during his lifetime, along with several collections of short stories, a few autobiographical works, and as Daniel Paul Morrison notes in his extremely informative appendix at the end of this novel, "45 motion pictures."   Five of his novels, including this one, were written under the pseudonym of Anthony Partridge.  Ghosts of Society is my first novel by Oppenheim; I have a few more of his books on my shelves so it will very likely not be the last.  I had fun with this one, for sure.

The "Ghosts" are a group of seven people who are all welcomed within the higher rungs of London  society, right around the turn of the century.    Their leader is Lord Evelyn, but all decisions are made by consensus among the members.  In his introduction to this novel, Curtis Evans notes that they were a "fashionable set of Londoners,"  which 

"the postwar, Roaring Twenties generation would call denizens of "cafe society, and today in the democratic social media era we simply term influencers."

The "essential qualifications," as explained by one of their number to the young American woman Sophy Van Heldt are "birth, culture, and understanding," and "an earnest desire to acquire some interest in life apart from the purely mundane."    A more in-depth glimpse into the Ghosts is offered by another member much later in the story, who describes the group as people who 

"had gone at life with too much of a rush. Life, you know ... is made up of many chambers and a man or a woman cannot live in all of them. These people made the mistake of trying to do this. They rushed from room to room. They drank great gulps where they should have only sipped. They plunged head-foremost where they should have only paddled. Then, when they were still young, weariness came. They had tried everything. They were foolish enough to suppose that they had given everything a fair trial."

 Everyone knows that it is "considered a kind of bad form" to ask about them, and when Sophy makes the mistake of asking a certain Mr. Mallison directly about the group (not knowing that he is a member),  she is given a fairly firm and very rude snub, one she does not take kindly.  She makes up her mind that Mallison and "some of the others should suffer for it," which leads her to hire a private detective to get anything and everything he can find on the Ghosts.  What no one knows except the group (and their fence) is that when the Ghosts 

"come across a person whom we consider overburdened with this world's goods, and who shows no desire or design of doing anything else except spending his money upon himself and for his own gratification, we use our courage and our brains to make a pay a very legitimate fine."

In other words, they rob the wealthy of their jewels, using the proceeds of the sales to fund causes that benefit the poor, all anonymously of course.  In this story, one of their "victims" is a known tyrant in his own country, while the other two are more or less arriviste, all of whom have the wealth that allows them access to the company and house parties of Society.   The detective hired by Sophy just might turn out to be an issue, especially when things go very, very wrong during one such robbery. There are other forces at work as well among various individual members that may potentially threaten the group as a whole and certainly add uncertainty to the Ghosts' future. 

There is, of course, much more to this story. I found myself completely drawn to the whole  fin-de-siècle feel and the social observations of that particular era as expressed by the author, especially in terms of bored aristos craving change from what they see as their rather tedious, boring lives, and the desire to experience new sensations outside of the ordinary.   The plot is also pretty good, with the suspense slowly building as Sophy's detective moves closer to fulfilling his mission -- the last few pages are definitely page turners.  

My thanks to Stark House for my copy!  

PPL #7: Murder in the Snow: A Cotswold Christmas Mystery, by Gladys Mitchell

 

9781784708320

Vintage/Penguin Random House, 2017

originally published as Groaning Spinney, 1950

220 pp

paperback

Last week we found ourselves at one of our favorite getaway spots north of here in a cabin in the woods where there is no internet and plenty of time for just sitting around and reading.  That is where I read this book, Murder in the Snow, the twenty-third installment of Gladys Mitchell's Mrs. Bradley series and book seven in my ongoing poison pen mystery reads.   Starting late in a series is sometimes but not often problematic for me, but definitely had an impact this time around.  It wasn't due to missing previous character development, but rather it was the fact that if I liked the books that came before,  having a clunker once in a while is okay if those preceding were pretty good.  In this case I had nothing by way of comparison, so I had no clue if this book was an example of one-off awfulness or if the entire series is this poorly written.  Obviously, I didn't care for Murder in the Snow all that much -- quite honestly, as the story progressed so too did my confusion and utter boredom.  

The novel opens during the Christmas holiday season, and Mrs. Beatrice Adela Lestrange Bradley has received two invitations from which to choose, one for a "conference of educational psychiatrists" in Sweden and the other from her "favorite nephew" Jonathan, who with his wfie had a home in the Cotwolds, once a "great estate" that had sold in two lots.  The larger part of the former estate had been taken by the Ministry of Education where there is a women's college for prospective educators, with Jonathan and his wife Deborah buying the smaller section, which contained the original manor house where they now live.    One of the features on Jonathan's property is a spinney with a gate, where, as he explains to his aunt Adela, a "ghost hangs out," supposedly that of a "local parson of about eighteen-fifty" who is known to hang over the gate.   To help take care of Jonathan's property, there is an estate agent known as Tiny, who does double duty for both Bradley and the college and lives with his cousin Bill, both bachelors who are taken care of by the housekeeper Mrs. Dalby Whittier.   There is also a gameskeeper, Will North, who has actually seen the Groaning Spinney spectre, so named because of the ghost that haunts the place.  Only a short chapter or two after the novel begins, Jonathan receives a letter concerning his wife and Tiny, who, unknown to Jonathan, had previously made a pass at Deborah and was seriously rebuffed.  Jonathan is all for going into Cheltenham to see if he can figure out who sent the letter as it contains "grounds for an action for slander," while Deborah suggests he take it to the vicar, "a sensible old darling" who may be able to figure out who might be responsible.  The action truly begins  as the snow begins to fall heavily, leaving the small village somewhat stranded, and Jonathan comes across a figure hanging over the gate.  It isn't the ghost, but rather Tiny's cousin Bill, who had been "dusted over into ghostliness by this last fall of the snow."   Things start to become very strange at this point as others, including the vicar, receive "vituperative notes," Bill's housekeeper goes missing and more deaths occur, all of which send Beatrice Adela Lestrange Bradley into investigative mode to discover exactly what's going on. 

from AbeBooks

All of the above is the perfect setup for a few hours of armchair detection, but I have to say that Murder in the Snow is actually one of the most murky and boggy mysteries I've ever encountered, so that by the time I got to the final denouement, I could have actually cared less, only happy that the book was over.  It is incredibly rare that this happens to me, but in this case my mantra became "oh please get on with it." To be up front about it,  I have no clue as to how Mrs. Bradley arrived at the solution she did given the meandering plot she offered her readers. As for the poison pen angle, that part started out strongly, with one major point connecting the letters to the overall murder plot, but it was still not enough to keep my interest strong. 

I have a few of Mitchell's books, so I'll give the first one in the series (Speedy Death, 1929) a go to see if perhaps Murder in the Snow was an anomaly in terms of plotting.  This one, sadly, I don't really believe I can recommend to anyone, even the hardest-core vintage crime readers.  

The 17th Letter, by Dorothy Cameron Disney

 

9798886011210

Stark House Press, 2024

originally published 1945

212 pp

paperback

Published just this month, The 17th Letter is my introduction to the work of Dorothy Cameron Disney.  She was the author of nine novels, written between 1936 and 1949; The 17th Letter comes in at number seven.  According to the introduction in the Stark House edition by Curtis Evans, the novel "draws heavily" from the real-life story of Franz von Werra, a German prisoner of war in England who, after being transferred to Ontario, Canada along with other prisoners, escaped by jumping out of the window of a train and eventually made his way back to Nazi Germany.  The 17th Letter is, as Evans says, a "flight-and-pursuit thriller," and somewhat of a departure for the author, whose previous books were more in the "classic style of mystery godmother Mary Roberts Rinehart."   For someone like me who devours vintage crime, that departure and the turn to something different is most welcome.  

The main characters in this novel are Mary and Paul Strong, two journalists who live in a New York apartment overlooking Washington Square.   Their best friend is Max Ferris, who has been away on assignment for News Review documenting a picture story of a convoy destined for Murmansk.  With his task completed, Ferris made his way to Iceland, where he had been stuck for "six long weeks," waiting for some way to make it back home.  In the meantime, he'd been sending his friends a series of letters, sixteen in total, with a number denoting their order on the envelopes.   Now he was expected back home via "the Clipper" from Reykjavik, where he'd been staying with some Danish fishermen, but Paul learns that not only had Max not made the plane, but he had actually given up his ticket.  While Mary thinks that Max might be ill,  Paul believes that "Something important kept him off the Clipper", but he has no conceivable idea of what it might be.   His suspicion increases when he and Mary receive a cable from their friend telling them that there will be a seventeenth letter in the mail, and that they should "be understanding."  The weirdest part of the message is in Max's signature, where he adds a strange middle name -- Icarus. The promised missive arrives, but again it's obvious that something out of the ordinary is going on, since all it contains is a theater program for a show that had run five months earlier.   Add to all of this the theft of some of Max's letters, new neighbors in the building and a strange man in the park who seems to know a great deal about Paul and Mary and finally some devastating news about Max, and Paul decides that it's time to go and find out what's going on with their friend, setting off aboard a ship.  Mary, who has stayed behind, comes across some dangerous information that needs to be acted upon immediately, and knows she must relay it to her husband at any cost, finding herself aboard the same ship as a stowaway.  They manage to make it to Halifax in Nova Scotia, and it is here where their adventure truly begins; unfortunately, they have no idea who they can trust as they find themselves in a great deal of trouble. 

1945 first edition, from Abebooks

I love espionage stories, especially those set during the first and second world wars as well as the cold war era.  Here, Disney starts with a strange mystery which leads to a slow-building suspense before moving on into full-blown page-turner mode.   I have to share that while reading The 17th Letter, I had to employ the old suspension of disbelief here and there, and I noticed myself doing the inner eye roll at the coincidences that pop up, but when all is said and done, this story worked well for me.  What comes through very strongly is the wartime setting which highlights the urgency of the Strongs' plight as they desperately try to find anyone in authority they can trust to share the information they carry, all the while trying to prevent themselves being captured.  And finally, who wouldn't love a dog named Bosco? 

I can recommend this one to people who are looking for something a bit off the beaten path in vintage crime, or to those who would like to read more by lesser-known American women mystery writers, or to people who enjoy books featuring husband-and-wife crime-solving teams.  My review copy came from the publishers, to whom I owe many thanks -- hopefully there will be more books by this author in the works.  

PPL#6: The Voice of the Corpse, by Max Murray

 

9781915530318

Galileo Publishers, 2024

originally published 1947

218 pp

paperback

(read in August)

Although The Voice of the Corpse is set in the UK,  Max Murray was actually born in Australia.   A very quick scan through online resources shows very little in the way of biographical information, but the back-cover blurb reveals that:

"The author, Max Murray (1901-1956) began life in Australia as a bush boy. His first job was that of a reporter on a Sydney paper but after a year he set out to work his way round the world. During WW2 he wrote scripts for the BBC Overseas Programme. After the war, with intervals for travel, he devoted himself primarily to writing fiction. He published 12 novels during his life, most of which had the word 'Corpse' in the title." 

 He is also an author who is new to me, so I'm getting in on the ground floor with this guy's work.  I've already bought the next book (also from Galileo), The King and the Corpse, and I'll keep buying the series if more are published.   

Set in the small village of Inching Round, this story begins with the death of Angela Pewsey, a forty-nine year old woman who evidently never married, waiting for someone to return from Ceylon.  She's been expecting him for fifteen years, ever since their meeting on a boat where he had asked her to wait for his next visit home "on leave from the plantation."  Up to the moment of her death, she'd been  singing "appropriate folk songs" while sitting at her spinning wheel, working on a sweater made from the hair of her Chow, so she never heard her attacker come up on her.  Angela, it seems, has made it her business to know everything about everybody in Inching Round, and she didn't shy away from letting people know, in her own way, that she knew.  As we learn, "the method of these revelations was in itself enough to make most most reasonable people feel capable of murdering her," so right away there is a village filled with victims turned suspects.  The time of death was "half past three," when one of her neighbors realized that Angela was no longer singing as the church clock noted the half hour.   The local police are called in, and come to the conclusion that the deed was done by a tramp. 

However, Inching Round isn't just the site of a murder -- it seems that someone has been sending the inhabitants of the village poison pen letters, causing not only a stir but distrust and fear.  As Celia Sim says in conversation with her friend and family solicitor Firth Prentice on a train journey to Inching Round,

"There's something in the atmosphere. There's something furtive about it: the way they look at each other as if they were wondering, suspecting; and then their eyes slide away as if they were ashamed of their thoughts. It is pretty awful."

 Once off the train though, the two hear about the murder, and Firth believes he knows the identity of the person yielding the poison pen:

"When somebody is writing anonymous letters and somebody is murdered, it's not hard to guess who was the author of the anonymous letters, is it?"

 He doesn't, however, believe in the mysterious tramp as Angela's killer, leaving, as Celia so aptly notes, "someone in the village ... one of us."  And when there are so many people who've suffered at her hands, it's not surprising that they're not only happy about her demise but also have a possible motive for getting rid of her.    Celia's mother wants Firth to investigate Angela's murder, but when Inspector Fowler from Scotland Yard enters the case, she is not at all forthcoming, explaining  to him that "the pain you will cause to so many of us will be out of all proportion to the good you do."  And, as it turns out ...

from Abebooks, 1947 First Edition 

While there is an intriguing whodunit at play here, the author also engages in a bit of romance,  humor and the scattering of some pretty good red herrings throughout the story.   There are two little boys who completely steal the show for a while,  offering Firth information they've obtained using their strange skills, including the recognition of the sounds of footsteps made by various people in the village.  I couldn't help it -- these kids were funny and they made me laugh out loud.     The Voice of the Corpse isn't as strong on the detection front as it might have been, but there's a huge twist (or two) that I did not see coming at all that made reading this book on the whole more than satisfying.  It was a fine introduction to the work of Max Murray, whose remaining mystery/crime stories I'll be very much looking forward to exploring.   I also can't believe my good fortune in this book being published while I've been engaged in reading as many poison-pen stories as I can in 2024! 

I can  recommend this novel to readers of vintage crime and to readers who are interested in fictional poison-pen phenomena but want something just a wee  bit different.    It's a bit off the beaten path and definitely not same-old same-old, which makes it majorly attractive for me.  

PPL #5: The Moving Finger, by Agatha Christie

"The Moving Finger writes; and having writ,

Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all your Tears wash out a Word of it."

--- The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam

9780062073626

William Morrow, 2011

originally published 1942

240 pp

paperback

read earlier in August

 The Moving Finger, is quite possibly the most well known of all of the poison-pen letter mystery novels from yesteryear (at least of the books I've collected)  and even though I've read it before and knew the who, it was still a fun read. 

Jerry Burton and his sister Joanna have come to the small village of Lymstock where he has come to recuperate after a "bad crash" while flying.  His doctor had told him that "everything was going to be all right," but he had to "go and live in the country" where he should have "absolute rest and quiet" for at least six months.  Obviously, as Jerry's looking back on things and telling the story that's about to unfold,  we get the sense that the complete opposite has occurred -- as he notes, "Rest and quiet! It seems funny to think of that now."  They hadn't been there too very long when they receive a "particularly foul anonymous letter" suggesting that Jerry and Joanna ("the fancy tart") are not really brother and sister.  Jerry wonders if their presence in the village is resented by someone, but he finds out that they're not the only people in Lymstock to have received one -- that "They've been going about" for a while now.   He also believes that "the best way to take it" is as "something utterly ridiculous," but his doctor, Owen Griffith, tells him that the problem is that "this sort of thing, once it starts, grows."  He also notes that "crude, childish spite though it is, sooner or later one of these letters will hit the mark. And then, God knows what may happen!"   The people of Lymstock are about to find out when one person commits suicide and there's a murder shortly after.  It seems that even in "such a peaceful  smiling happy countryside," there is "down underneath something evil."  

The village "looks the most innocent, sleepy, harmless little bit of England you can imagine," but as one character notes, it has "plenty of wrongdoing" and "any amount of shameful secrets."  Strangely though, the letter writer doesn't hit on any of those, sending out wild accusations instead.  At the same time it's enough to make people distrustful and leave them with a sense of fear wondering which of their neighbors is cruel enough to do such a thing.   Jerry does a bit of his own sleuthing and the police do their best, but it's only when Jane Marple, who "knows more about the different kinds of human wickedness..." is brought on the scene (rather late in the game here) by the vicar's wife that the case is finally solved.   

1942 edition; from Abebooks

My guess would be that anyone reading it for the first time would be hard pressed to figure out the identity of the letter writer; due to potential spoilers I won't say why, but trust me on this one.  I will say that the discovery of the culprit, along with the motive behind it all, came without much excitement, as Miss Marple unspools the answers quietly among a small group of people.  Otherwise, it's difficult to not get caught up leading to that point, since Christie lays out a compelling story with a clever plot that you won't want to put down.   Every time I read one of her books, I come away the sense that this author must have been much like her elderly detective, having a keen eye for human nature, and  The Moving Finger  is no exception.  Definitely a no-miss for Christie readers, for people interested in the poison pen in mystery novels and for vintage readers in general. 

There are two television adaptations that I know of (and that I've seen), one from 1985 with Joan Hickson as the erstwhile Jane Marple and the other from 2006 with Geraldine McEwan in the role.  I'm a huge fan of the older two-part episode because it's more like the novel,  but you'll have to watch both and decide for yourself. 

The Wench is Dead ... / Miscast For Murder, by Ruth Fenisong

 

9798886010909

Stark House, 2024

324 pp

paperback

(a huge thank you to the good people at Stark House)

(read earlier in July)

I recently paid an online visit  to Stark House's website to order two more two-in-one volumes by this author, which together comprise the first four novels in this series.   I am a series completist so it drives me a bit batty not to at least start with book number one when I come across a new-to-me detective character, in this case,  Gridley "Grid" Nelson of the New York City Police.  Today's book contains numbers eight and nine, so I obviously have a bit of catching up to do.   

This series spans two decades in the making with the first novel,  Murder Needs a Name, published in 1942.  Ruth Fenisong (1904 - 1978)  would go on to write twelve more installments of this series, while also several publishing nonseries books during the same time frame with two more coming along  afterwards, one in 1967 and the last in 1970.  Curtis Evans provides a brief biography of Fenisong in the introduction to this book; his blog The Passing Tramp offers additional insights into the author's life as well as her work.  

1953 paperback cover, from Fantasic Fiction

It's June, and Nadine (Dene) Cameron has received and turned down several offers from friends to make a the yearly "exodus" from New York City and the Manhattan heat.  The one she accepts comes from an older couple, Vera and Sam Curtis, who she doesn't know very well at all, but Vera has assured her that she understands Dene's need for a bit of independence.  Vera's home on Long Island has a gatehouse where Dene can stay, which is not too far from the main house but will afford Dene the privacy she desires.  Vera will be away for a while, but Sam will be in residence, and could use Dene's company from time to time.   On her arrival at Sandy Crest, "at the far end of Long Island," she is picked up by Sam and another man, who is driving Sam's car, by the name of Paul Debrulet.  As the blurb for this book notes, "the attraction is immediate."   As they start to become close, Dene feels like there is more to this man than meets the eye, but whatever it may be he's not saying.   Back in New York City,  Gridley Nelson is a lieutenant and the acting captain of homicide, NYPD.   He lives with his wife Kyrie and their "two and a fraction" year-old son Grid Junio (referred to as Junie) in an apartment on Lexington Avenue, where the family is taken care of by the cook, Sammy.   Home from a very tough case,  Grid notices that his son has latched on to a pile of magazines which he'd discovered at the incinerator, a true detective sort of thing complete with pictures of wanted criminals.  For some reason, Junie just loves these things, wanting to hear bedtime stories (made up, of course -- not the facts) based on the photos.   As it happens, Kyrie and Junie have been invited to stay with friends on Long Island for a few days.   The two stories merge at a dinner party held by Vera and Sam, where, once seated at the table with the guests, Kyrie is taken completely aback when she realizes that she is sitting with someone she recognizes from the photos in one of her son's magazines, someone who is wanted for murder in another state.   This is when the action really kicks in, beginning with a hit-and-run accident, or was it? 

1954 Doubleday Crime Club edition, from Amazon

Miscast for Murder (1954) moves the action back into New York City.  The story centers around the relationship between a young woman named Bess Rohan and her estranged father, Kevin Culhane, who used to be a renowned singer  back in the day.  His wife had divorced him when Bess was still a small child, and then remarried some time later.  Bess hasn't seen her father in years, so imagine her surprise when she sees him one day while at lunch in a restaurant near  the publishing company where she works. She says nothing to him but seeing him (and the young woman who accompanies him)  weighs heavily on her mind, largely because of all of the negativity about her father generated by her mother since Bess had been a child. Even though her mother has remarried, the subject of Kevin Culhane remains "taboo" between them.  Luckily she has her Aunt Alma, with whom she lives in the city, and a new friend, Link Bassett, a radio broadcaster who enjoys a certain amount of celebrity.  While Link and Bess hang out at her place (and unbeknownst to Bess),  Alma and Kevin are dining together at a restaurant.   Alma talks Kevin into coming over to her place to reunite with Bess, but first they have to make a stop at Kevin's hotel so that he can change his shirt that is now "coffee-spotted" after a mishap at the dinner table.   They agree that Alma will wait in the lobby while Kevin changes, but more than half an hour goes by without him returning.  He can't be reached by phone in his room, so Alma decides to go up and see if everything is okay.  The door is unlocked, so she goes into the dimly-lit room where she discovers a dead body on the floor which she covers with a black coat that's laying on the floor. She did not, however, phone the police but goes back to her apartment instead, where later, Kevin shows up.  Bess shuts herself in her room not wanting to have anything to do with her father, but her father returns to her life in a very big way after the police arrive the next morning looking for him in connection with the murder of the woman in his hotel room. 

Fenisong's detective Grid Nelson is certainly not your average New York City Cop. In The Wench is Dead we learn that he and his wife live comfortably and have "plenty of money," and in Miscast For Murder the two have moved from their apartment to a house and are still "more than solvent."  He is aware that there are some people who view his job as "no more than an eccentric hobby indulged in by a man of wealth and background," but for Nelson that's not the way it is, having 

"almost empathic identification with humanity at large, the slayer as well as the slain, the parents of each, the issue, the wives or husbands, the lovers, the friends, all those who had been encircled by the elastic radius of crime." 

His focus on "humanity at large" also filters down into his home life, especially in his relationship with the family's African-American housekeeper Sammy.  It's refreshing to see the way Fenisong writes this character, especially given that it's the 1950s.  

Of these two books I enjoyed Miscast for Murder a bit more, largely because it's much more of a whodunit than The Wench is Dead .., where I pretty much waited for the police to catch up to what I already knew.   The solution to Miscast for Murder took me by surprise, but there are definitely plenty of suspects to ponder over in the meantime. 

I love traveling back into yesteryear and discovering these old mysteries -- I actually prefer older to newer so it's a genuine pleasure when Stark House sends me a book that makes me want to discover more from the same author.  I think true fans of vintage American crime will enjoy these two books in one, and even if you haven't read the earlier series books, the way these stories are written sort of hint at Nelson's past so it's not at all necessary to know much of anything prior to reading this one.  My thanks to Stark House for the pleasurable hours I spent with this book. 

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