The Lost Winner by Fei Wu

When I visited Shanghai last November my principal host was a young Chinese crime writer, Fei Wu (pictured above). I very much enjoyed our conversations and learned that, in addition to having a story in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine, Fei was just about to publish, via CITIC Press, a detective novel of his own called The Lost Winner. But it isn't any ordinary detective novel. It's a story in three dimensions...

I haven't read The Lost Winner myself, and it has yet to be translated into English and my Chinese is non-existent, but I've seen the book and the associated materials, including a rather wonderful model of the crime scene which I believe contains its own clues to the solution.

British and American writers of the Golden Age made steps in this direction. One thinks of Evelyn Elder's Murder in Black and White, with clues in the illustrations, and of Francis Beeding's The Norwich Victims and the less renowned but very interesting No Fury, both of which contain photographs. And there are other examples, but nothing on this scale of ambition. The closest to it that I can think of are the Crime Dossiers of Dennis Wheatley and J.G. Links, starting with Murder off Miami, and the American versions of them, with compilers including Q. Patrick among others.

Fei Wu's book shows that the traditions of the Golden Age mystery are not only alive and well and enjoying popularity in unexpected parts of the world, but also that the tropes of classic crime are flexible and capable of ingenious adaptation. And, as the picture below suggests, construction... 

Forgotten Book - The House of Dr Edwardes

The writing partnership of John Palmer and Hilary Saunders, who collaborated as Francis Beeding (and other pen-names as well) was arguably the finest British crime-writing combination of the Golden Age. They were best known for their thrillers, but their occasional detective stories were of high calibre, and I'd put books like Death Walks in Eastrepps and The Norwich Victims far ahead of anything written by once-renowned detective writers such as, say, G.D.H. and Margaret Cole.

Their fourth book, published in 1927, was The House of Dr Edwardes. It was turned into a film by Alfred Hitchcock - Spellbound, a much better title, it has to be said. I'll talk about the film another day, but overall I think it's more impressive than the novel. The novel isn't my favourite Beeding by a long chalk. But the storyline has some memorable features, characteristic of their work, which explain why it caught Hitchcock's attention.

Dr Edwardes is a famous psychiatrist, but he's been suffering from overwork, and he leaves the asylum that he manages in the Alps in the care of a Dr Murchison and a newly recruited young female doctor. A violent incident results in the incarceration of a patient, but the new woman starts to wonder if it's possible that, to coin a phrase, the lunatics have taken charge of the asylum.

One thing that's very evident from this book is that people with mental health problems were regarded very differently in the Twenties than they are today. Quite a bit of fun is poked at their strange ways, and some of this makes the modern reader feel uncomfortable. By and large, however, Beeding treats the insane characters a little more generously than did some Golden Age writers. At the time it was written, this was an original and entertaining book, though in my opinion it has worn much less well than some of Beeding's other work. Even so, if you've ever watched Spellbound, you might like to sample the book which inspired the film.

Forgotten Book - Murder Intended

Murder Intended, one of five police novels written by Francis Beeding, first appeared in 1932. It sank from sight fairly rapidly, and I know that John Cooper, who wrote an excellent article about Beeding's police quintet for CADS four years ago, doesn't rate it as highly as the other four. But I found it very readable, and also innovative. Beeding strays far from the conventional, and this may disconcert some readers, but I found the story refreshingly different, and it has stuck in my mind.

It all begins in very orthodox fashion, though. The Delft clan come together for an annual gathering prescribed by the will of the late Jasper Delft. Members of the family are dependent on the goodwill of Jasper's widow, Agatha, and woe betide them if they don't turn up. Almost inevitably, the conversation turns to what would happen if Aunt Agatha were no longer around. What about murdering her?

Seasoned readers of Golden Age detective fiction will settle down in anticipation of a mystery where Aunt Agatha comes to a sticky end, and the finger of suspicion points at one after another of her impoverished relatives. But they will quickly be surprised. When a murder does take place, it is of a very unexpected kind.

I won't say too much about the plot, although a key development is revealed at an early stage (this was the aspect of the book that John didn't care for.). I see the book as an experiment with a form of inverted mystery - although we know whodunit, the fascination lies in seeing whether the culprit will be apprehended before further mischief is done. Beeding builds the suspense nicely in the second half of the book, and in some ways the Beeding novels strike me as forerunners of the work of Michael Gilbert, another smooth writer who never liked to repeat himself. I'm only sorry that, due to their fondness for writing thrillers, they didn't produce more detective stories.

East Anglia, the Norfolk Broads, and the CWA Conference

East Anglia is a lovely part of the world that has featured in plenty of detective stories over the years. Among them is C.P. Snow's debut novel, Death Under Sail, a murder mystery set on the Norfolk Broads. In recent years, as my enthusiasm for travel on the water has grown, I've become keen on the idea of a cruise on the Broads,and finally on Monday morning - gloriously sunny, luckily - I realised that ambition, sailing from Wroxham. It made a wonderful finale to a great trip.

My reason for venturing so far afield (and there's no quick way to Norfolk from Cheshire, or from most places, come to that) was that the  CWA's annual conference was held in Norwich. I decided to turn the journey from a chore into pleasure by stopping off at various places and making a five day break of it. So the trip began with various halts at places like Stamford in Lincolnshire (a lovely and historic town, quite unfamiliar to me) and King's Lynn, which I'd visited only once before - when I was in the early stages of planning my first Harry Devlin novel.

Then it was on to Norwich, but via a series of resorts, mostly quite small, on the north coast of Norfolk. Again the weather was kind, so it was possible to see places like Hunstanton, Wells and Sheringham at their best. I also went on a pilgrimage to the church at Stiffkey (pronounced Stookey), famous for the controversial Rector Harold Davidson, who was eventually eaten by a lion (I promise I'm not making this up...)The resort which gave its name to Francis Beeding's classic Death Walks in Eastrepps doesn't exist, but I did drive through Northrepps, on the outskirts of Cromer,before reaching The Maid's Head Hotel, venue for the conference, and said to be the oldest hotel in the country. It is located in a road called...Tombland.

One of the joys of these conferences is meeting old friends, in some cases for the first time in ages. Kathryn Skoyles, who helped Dea Parkin make it a really convivial event, is someone I've known for more than twenty years; we first met at the Shots on the Page convention which used to be held in Nottingham. It was great to catch up with her, and on Sunday afternoon she proved an expert guide to the amazing Old Vicarage gardens at East Runton, where she volunteers; they are justifiably said to be one of the finest private gardens in Britain.

As always, there were lots of good things happening during the conference. A guided walk through the city on Friday, followed by a buffet meal in a crypt. Talks on forensics, counter-terrorism, business opportunities for writers, and new ideas about the Lord Lucan case - something for everyone. Among the optional trips was a visit to the prison museum in the old Norwich Castle Keep - fascinating. Plus a really good dinner, with a witty speaker who is a retired coroner. I do strongly recommend CWA members who haven't attended a conference in the past to give it a try in future. It's a different sort of experience from, say, Crimefest or St Hilda's, but packed with interest - and excellent company.

Forgotten Book - Deadline

Deadline, first published in 1971, introduced journalist Jim Larkin, who proceeded to appear in four more of Martin Russell's novels. Russell had long experience of journalism and makes good use of it in this novel, the most memorable element of which is the vividly conveyed background of a newspaper in an out-of-season seaside resort. .

Larkin's arrival in town coincides with the killing of a young woman, whose body has been decapitated. A second death swiftly follows, and this time the corpse is mutilated even more extensively. Evidently a psychopathic serial killer is on the loose, and Larkin and his colleagues find themselves working flat out as they try to keep up with what reporters nowadays love to describe as "a fast-moving story".

In my twenties, I went through a phase of reading Martin Russell novels, focusing on the stand-alones rather than those featuring Larkin. I was impressed by the twisty plots, which for me compensated for a dearth of characterisation. Russell was a writer who was wise enough to know his limitations, and for twenty years, from 1965 to 1984, he turned out pacy and entertaining mysteries.

My interest in Russell stood me in good stead when Reg Hill, who had written about Russell for the first two editions of Twentieth Century Crime and Mystery Writers, was too busy to update his essay. I was asked to take over, and give Russell's work a fresh look. My views were much the same as Reg's. The plot of Deadline is much less ingenious than those of his best books, or indeed that of Francis Beeding's Death Walks in Eastrepps, another story about multiple murder in a seaside resort. but it's a light, easy read.

Russell was,in the late seventies and early eighties, a prominent figure in the CWA and he also became a member of the Detection Club, but has not had any direct involvement with either organisation for many years. I don't know why he gave up writing so abruptly, but it may be that he felt that his type of crime fiction had become deeply unfashionable, and lost heart. If my guess is correct, I find that rather sad. He may not have been Ruth Rendell, but who was? His books are, as Reg said, both unpretentious and enjoyable.

Forgotten Book - He Could Not Have Slipped

He Could Not Have Slipped, my Forgotten Book for today by Francis Beeding, has one of those titles that you simply don't come across these days.It's an odd one, and cunningly chosen. At first, the reader thinks its meaning is obvious. But there is more to the title than meets the eye, and although this book is not quite at the same level of excellence as classics like Death Walks in Eastrepps, and The Norwich Victims, it is still very readable and displays the qualities of plotting and sound, thoughtful writing that made Beeding's name notable in the Thirties.

The Beeding name concealed the identities of two friends who worked together for the League of Nations, and their inside knowledge of the League's workings (and, they make very clear, shortcomings) is put to very good use in this story. They also combine aspects of the thriller with a neat whodunit mystery, and although I'm less familiar with their thrillers, since my Golden Age preference is for whodunits, this book tempts me to give more of them a try.

The Geneva setting is conveyed with conviction, and Beeding manages to introduce into a story of international crime Inspector George Martin, who appeared in The Norwich Victims and No Fury, another story I enjoyed. There is also a neat spin on the idea of the altruistic crime, much canvassed by writers of the Golden Age. A likeable, well-intentioned man who has devoted his life to looking after refugees become frustrated by the League's weakness. This leads him into a criminal conspiracy, and the misadventures of a co-conspirator who happens to be a dodgy lawyer (yes, they do exist) result in murder. But there is more to this story than at first meets the eye.

I really like the way Beeding made a number of sharp political points without becoming heavy-handed or didactic. This book dates from 1939,and it seems clear to me that the co-authors were deeply concerned about the League's weakness in the face of tyranny. But their main concern, quite properly in a book of this kind, was to entertain, and they succeeded. Yes, the central trick is not terribly difficult to fathom out, but it is handled with elegant economy. All in all, a little-known title that deserves to be resurrected.

Why Re-Read a Detective Story?

What is the point of re-reading a detective story? After all, if you know whodunit, surely it's a waste of time? This is an argument I've come across a good many times over the years. And there are certainly plenty of detective stories that most readers may doubt were worth reading once, let alone twice. (Mind you, that's true of plenty of books outside the crime genre, as well.) But I think a great deal of pleasure may be gained from re-reading a good whodunit, even if you can still remember who committed the crime and why.

A case in point is Death Walks in Eastrepps by Francis Beeding. I first read this novel in my twenties, but it has stuck in my mind ever since, and its reappearance as an Arcturus Crime Classic prompted me to give it another go. I knew the identity of the surprise culprit, and the even more surprising motive, but I was interested to see how the two authors who co-wrote under the Beeding name handled their tricky plot.

In this book, as in their The Norwich Victims, which I also re-read recently, they shift scenes and viewpoints regularly, giving the story a filmic quality. (Unsurprisingly, Alfred Hitchcock adapted another of their novels, which became Spellbound.) Even by today's frenetic standards, the book does not lack pace. It's an early serial killer novel, and there are half a dozen victims, before the culprit (or apparent culprit) is finally tracked down - after the original prime suspect had turned out to be innocent, if deranged.

There is a good courtroom sequence before a series of short and snappy scenes lead up to the final dramatic revelation. I was impressed by the way Beeding orchestrated a complicated storyline, and admiration of authorial craft is in itself a good reason to give a book a second reading. There are so many books I'll never read even once that I suppose I ought to feel guilty about spending time on a story I remembered pretty well. But I don't regret it at all, because I found it just as enjoyable the second time around as the first.

Forgotten Book - The Norwich Victims

I've mentioned The Norwich Victims, by Francis Beeding, several times in previous blog posts. It's timely to feature the novel as today's Forgotten Book, since Arcturus have now brought out a mass market paperback edition. I'm very glad to see this - not least because a while ago, I encouraged their very pleasant and enthusiastic crime editor to take a look at both this book and Henry Wade's Lonely Magdalen. I'm delighted to say that Arcturus subsequently decided to bring these two excellent stories back for a new generation of readers to enjoy.

Having read the book before, I knew the ingenious plot twist that makes The Norwich Victims so special, but I found that this did not spoil my enjoyment. Rather, I had the chance to admire the skill with which Beeding (a pen-name for two writing friends) skated over rather thin ice. I also felt that the smooth and highly readable writing style has stood the test of time. The same cannot be said of all detective novels of a similar vintage.This story first appeared in 1931, and the duo's few detective stories are very good indeed. I haven't yet tried their spy thrillers.

Two separate storylines gradually merge. John Throgmorton is a dodgy stockbroker who lives with a pretty younger woman called Hermione. Into their clutches fall a woman who has a winning ticket in a French lotery of very great value. And Throgmorton decides to kill her for it, so that Hermione can impersonate her and grab the money. Meanwhile, at the school where the victim worked, a young woman, the niece of the school's owner, Robert Hedlam, has fallen for George Martin, a clean-cut cop who is put in charge of the murder case.

There are plenty of plot complications, and the pace is excellent from start to finish. Really, this book is a model of its kind. I accept that the culprit's psychology is not explored fully, and if the story were being rewritten today, this gap would need to be filled. But in the whole scheme of things,it doesn't matter much. The Norwich Victims is a very clever and entertaining book and a worthy addition to the list of Arcturus Crime Classics.

Forgotten Book - No Fury

My Forgotten Book for today is No Fury by Francis Beeding, a name which concealed an interesting writing duo who both worked for the League of Nations (and no doubt enjoyed name-checking the League a time or two in this book.) The book first appeared in 1936, and features the rather likeable youngish Inspector Martin, who starred in the earlier, and excellent, The Norwich Victims.

Like the earlier book, this one starts with the inclusion of several photographs, although this time, they are not quite as crucial or as cleverly integrated with the story as a whole. That story opens with a popular novelist, Valerie Beauchamp, who proves to be a very unpleasant individual, corresponding with a secret admirer. But it turns out that she is the victim of a rather cruel hoax perpetrated by a group of "friends".

Soon Valerie is found battered to death and so disfigured that she can only be identified by her dental records. The murderer is not found, but soon the hoaxers start to be murdered, one by one. The pace is fast, and Beeding uses multiple viewpoints very effectively, not least in a pretty good court scene which ends with a hung jury.

I found this novel entertaining and very readable. There were, however, a couple of major flaws which meant that it falls well short of being the classic it might have been. I can't say more without really spoiling the story, as the flaws concern the otherwise ingenious twist in the tale. But Beeding, who mainly wrote thrillers, had the knack of pacing a story well, and in comparison with many Golden Age mysteries, this one zips along so well that the failings were pretty well compensated for. Worth looking out for, but not easy to find, and not as good as The Norwich Victims..

Forgotten Book - The Murders in Praed Street

Which was the first detective novel to feature a serial killer? I use the term “detective novel” to exclude book such as The Lodger, by Marie Belloc Lowndes, which is a suspense story heavily influence by the crimes of Jack the Ripper, and which Hitchcock turned into a film early in his career.

I stand to be corrected, but the first serial killer detective novel I know of is The Murders in Praed Street, by John Rhode, and that is my Forgotten Book for today. Today, the plot twists may seem shopworn to seasoned whodunit fans, but this was a ground-breaking book when it appeared in 1928, and I enjoyed reading it.

The luckless denizens of Praed Street start to fall victim to a signature killer of considerable ingenuity, and the police are baffled until Dr Priestley helps them out. One of the murders involved the use of “a remarkably virulent synthetic alkaloid”, prompting the good doctor to reminisce about one such alkaloid with which a character in The Ellerby Case “tipped the spines of the hedgehog to which I so nearly fell a victim. You remember that incident, I dare say?” Odd question. Who could forget an attempted murder by hedgehog spines?

Within a few years, serial killer (or “multiple murder”) mysteries became relatively common. Philip Macdonald wrote two, Anthony Berkeley and Francis Beeding had a go too, and Agatha Christie produced that wonderful puzzle The ABC Murders. But Rhode deserves credit for leading the pack. Today, of course, serial killer novels are two-a-penny. I doubt if many of those who read them know the name of John Rhode. And, whatever his literary limitations, I think that is a pity.

CADS 63

CADS 63, edited by the tireless Geoff Bradley, has just been published, and once again it’s packed with interesting and often esoteric information about crime fiction past and present, but predominantly past. I can’t remember a single issue – and I’ve read them all – when I haven’t been introduced to a book or author that I’ve enjoyed, yet otherwise might not have bothered with. The joy of CADS is that you have so many encounters with the unexpected.

These include – for instance – two assessments by John Cooper of a selection of books by writers who are today under-rated, Francis Beeding and Clifford Witting; this highlighted a number of books I’m keen to seek out. Tony Medawar contributes a nice little article about Jacques Futrelle, who died on the Titanic, and there are good pieces by a range of the usual suspects, including Bob Adey, Barry Pike and Liz Gilbey.

Curt Evans’ latest piece of mystery scholarship, an attempt to puzzle out which of the ‘joint’ books by G.D.H. Cole and his wife Margaret were written as solo efforts by one or other them inevitably depends on a mixture of logical deduction and guesswork,  but the arguments are well presented, and may be as close as we come to finding out the truth about this slightly odd collaboration. I'm looking forward eagerly to reading Curt's new book about three relatively neglected Golden Age mysteries - more about this in due course.

On a personal note, I was grateful for Chris Simpson’s review of Waterloo Sunset, and also to Geoff and to Bob Cornwell, for including me in their long running feature, the CADS Questionnaire. By their kind permission, the Questionnaire will also appear on the ‘interviews’ page of my website. But really, if you’re keen on the genre and its history, there is no substitute for buying the magazine. An absolute bargain, unreservedly recommended.    

Forgotten Book - Death Walks in Eastrepps

It is always a real cause for celebration when the forgotten books of the past are resurrected in new print versions (or as e-books, come to that). Assuming, of course, that they are not books that deserve to be forgotten! In my opinion, Death Walks In Eastrepps most definitely deserves to be remembered. In fact, one critic described it as one of the 10 greatest detective novels of all time. This may be a bit over the top, but nevertheless, it certainly qualifies as a classic.

In a post on this blog almost four years ago, I talked about the book in the context of a discussion on interesting motives for murder, and the motive is certainly distinctive and memorable. But the book as a whole is a lively and entertaining read, and since it is 80 years since its original publication, the time was certainly ripe for its resurrection.

I'm very glad to say, therefore, that a brand-new, attractively produced edition has now become available in an interesting series of Crime Classics from Arcturus Publishing. I'll have more to say about Arcturus in the future, because I do think that their enterprise deserves both praise and encouragement.

Death Walks in Eastrepps is an early example of the serial killer story. In fact, I'd be very interested to hear about any Golden Age detective novels about serial killers that pre-date it – Agatha Christie and Philip MacDonald ventured into this territory a little later, but did anyone get there sooner?

Of course, the story has its unlikely (you might say, exceptionally improbable) aspects. But the atmosphere of the seaside resort terrified by the work of the mysterious multiple murderer is nicely done, and the narrative pace is kept up pretty well.

The author was Francis Beeding, the pseudonym for two writers, Hilary St George Saunders and John Palmer. They wrote a couple of excellent classic detective novels after this one, but later became better known for thrillers. Again, I'd be glad to hear from anyone who has sampled some of their other work.

Casts of Characters

I was away in Oxfordshire over the weekend and we stayed with someone who mentioned that he can find it frustrating if books contain plenty of characters. This is an observation I’ve heard on a number of occasions, often from very busy people who only have time to read books in short segments, and who therefore can easily lose track of who is who. I find the same problem myself from time to time.

When I returned home, I had the pleasure of finding a very generous review of The Arsenic Labyrinth on that splendid blog Crime Scraps (blog supreme Uriah occasionally sets a fiendish crime quiz – well worth looking out for.) Uriah made a comparable point about the complexity of the character relationships, and it made me wonder – yet again – whether it would be a good idea to include character lists at the start of my books.

This device was used quite often in the past (Christianna Brand and Ngaio Marsh both employed it, for instance.) In the classic reprints published by that excellent small American press, Rue Morgue Press, there are generally character lists. I find these rather helpful, but I do know that some readers are instinctively sceptical about books which start off with a cast of characters. Someone once told me that they wouldn’t read such a book, because they would infer that the writer hadn’t taken enough care to delineate the characters in a memorable fashion. A comment that deterred me from including a cast list, I must admit.

Incidentally, I should mention a clever mystery by Francis Beeding, The Norwich Victims. This went further by including photographs of the main characters – with accompanying red herring! Most ingenious, and it did make me wonder if there have been cast lists which contain clues or red herrings.

Anyway, I would be interested in the views of readers of this blog on casts of characters. Is there a revival of interest in having a cast list, would you say? Or is it to be seen as an admission of failure on the part of the author?