Natural Causes

Improbable as it may seem, I received a generous mention in The Daily Telegraph’s royal blog yesterday. This is not, sad to say, because of any blue blood coursing through my veins. The explanation, as you can see from his post, is that the blog is authored by that estimable writer Tim Heald, whom I had the pleasure of meeting in person last year, after a long period of correspondence.

Tim mentions my contribution to Mike Ashley’s anthology of Royal Whodunnits. My story, ‘Natural Causes’, featured King George IV and that interesting character Henry Bolingbroke. Once the idea came to me, it was a story I enjoyed writing, and researching. If memory serves, it was a biography by Flora Fraser featuring Caroline of Brunswick which provided much of the raw material. And Flora Fraser’s mother is Antonia Fraser, herself a detective writer of repute and, like Tim Heald, a member of the Detection Club.

Mike Ashley, incidentally, has compiled a good many anthologies of note. I’ve been privileged to contribute to quite a number of them, very often with stories on historical themes.

Forgotten Book - Patterns in the Dust

Like my last entry in Patti Abbott’s Forgotten Books series, Patterns in the Dust was an auspicious debut novel by a writer of distinction who, in the 1980s, seemed sure to be a major figure in the genre for many years to come. Yet Lesley Grant-Adamson has produced very little crime fiction in recent times, and that is a pity, for as Patterns in the Dust shows, she is highly accomplished.

This short novel (published by Faber, one of the choosiest of publishers) appeared in 1985, and it introduced Rain Morgan, a journalist with a penchant for detection (as well as conversation – she has a gossip column.) Rain’s creator was also a seasoned journalist, and the character is both appealing and credible.

In this story, Rain encounters murder while on holiday in Somerset, and the story blends a rural setting reminiscent of Golden Age mysteries with elements that were (at least in 1985) bang up-to-date, including punks and answerphones. The final words of the book convey character and nuance with Grant-Adamson’s customary economy as Rain looks out on a hunt taking place on the hillside: ‘She could not see the fox but her heart was with it.’

Rain appeared in four more books, before Grant-Adamson turned her attention to stand-alones. A change of publishers didn’t work out, and her principal work in recent years so far as our genre is concerned is a teach-yourself book about crime writing, which has run to a couple of editions. But her books are worth seeking out, not least this first effort. I bought the paperback edition when it came out in 1986, and although I couldn’t have guessed it, the cover artwork was done by the same artist, Nick Hardcastle, who would later create the artwork for my first four paperbacks.

The Victoria Vanishes

I’ve never met Christopher Fowler in person, although we share an agent, and whilst I’ve read and enjoyed his short fiction in the past, I’ve been slow in catching up with his successful series about Bryant and May, from the Peculiar Crimes Unit. I’ve just finished the sixth book in that series, The Victoria Vanishes, and I must say I found it immensely enjoyable – one of the most entertaining books I’ve read in a long time.

This is a book packed with good things. For instance, there is a very nice ‘impossible’ puzzle, which features almost incidentally in the story-line. How is it that Arthur Bryant, after a few drinks, should have seen a woman coming out of a pub that no longer exists?

The main plot concerns a series of killings of middle-aged women in London’s public houses. The mystery is splendidly contrived, and although the solution is a little far-fetched, that matters not. The twists and turns make the hunt for the culprit a very satisfactory one.

But above all, what I liked about the book was the quality of the writing, and in particular its humour, which was very much on my wavelength. The style blends nostalgia with a sharply contemporary eye on the nature of modern society. And there are lots of wonderful lines. As well as a cat called Crippen. What more could anyone want?

One thing is for sure. I shall be reading more Bryant and May books.

Ngaio Again

Further to my post in August about the collection edited by B.J. Rahn, I’ve found another relatively obscure book, this time dating back to 1996, which discusses the work of one of the most notable writers of the Golden Age. Murder Most Poetic: the mystery novels of Ngaio Marsh, is a fairly short but pithy survey by Mary S. Weinkauf.

Weinkauf makes the point that Marsh’s first love was always the theatre, but it was writing detective fiction that gave her financial freedom. (Those were the days, huh?) She makes a number of interesting points. For example: ‘Character is the greatest single factor in Alleyn’s investigation. It is not why one person murders another which fascinates him, but whose personality is most likely to turn homicidal – in the right conditions.’

This is an interesting perspective for a whodunit writer, although for me it is the ‘why’ that is crucial – in fact, the starting point for most of my fictions. I agree with Weinkauf that it is a flaw that ‘Marsh’s characters tend to kill others for the convenience of her plot.’

This is a book full of spoilers, which are nevertheless rather entertaining. For instance, one appendix lists ‘actors and others associated with the theatre who are killers in Marsh’s fiction’. Fourteen people are named. Another appendix lists references to Shakespeare’s plays in Marsh’s work. A whole chapter is devoted to ‘theatrical devices in Marsh’s fiction’.

All in all, this is a worthwhile study of a good crime writer. Weinkauf does not make excessive claims for Marsh, and recognises (I think this is unarguable) that Christie was much better at plotting, but highlights her strengths, and analyses her work with a care that encourages me – after a long gap - to read more Marsh in the future.

Deja Vu

Last night I got back home from Oxford after an emotional day, but one of genuine happiness. I’d deposited my first born at university – 35 years, almost to the day, since I started a new life at the very same college, reading the very same subject. Lots of scope for nostalgia, especially as his room turned out to be on the floor below the room where I first met the lady who was to become his mother. It all felt a bit surreal.

I was reminded once again, as if I needed a reminder, of the sense of the exciting possibilities of student life, and certainly Oxford has always seemed to me to be a place of infinite possibilities. It was, of course, entertaining to see all the new students, trying not to be embarrassed by their parents. And to revisit old haunts such as the Oxford Union and Blackwell’s. (I was glad to see the bookshop had stocked up with copies of Dancing with the Hangman, and I’ll reflect on the subject of authors visiting bookshops in a future post.)

When I was a student, I wrote a good deal, but struggled to finish any crime fiction. I was too overwhelmed by the challenge of plotting a complex mystery, and the greatest success I had in those days was in writing for radio – a script of mine called ‘The Marrying Kind’ about a bigamist was recorded at Radio Oxford. It was a comedy, and I enjoy humorous writing to this day.

And as I wandered through the city, I added to the photos of the college a shot (it's the picture at the top of this post) of the old Saxon tower in Cornmarket. Which, as readers of the Lake District Mysteries know, is the tower from which Daniel Kind’s partner, Aimee, jumped to her death before the events of The Coffin Trail. But yesterday, it was a tranquil place, albeit dampened by the drizzle. Ah yes, the Oxford rain. I remember it well.

Collecting Crime

When I talked to second hand book dealers, while researching background for The Serpent Pool, I was struck by how often they mentioned the fact that decent old books have become increasingly difficult to find. I know of at least one (very good) dealer who has given up selling books simply because he couldn’t find enough items of quality. Where they have all gone to, I don’t know. Hidden in private collections, presumably.

The value of a book is largely determined by its rarity and in particular by its condition, and that of its dust wrapper. The quality of the story, oddly, seems to matter rather less. I suppose this is partly because really notable books will often be printed in such large numbers that there is no great value in any one particular copy. The more obscure the author, the more valuable the book, is a general principle. There are exceptions, though. Very often, the first book of a major writer will only be published with a small, or relatively small, print run. This was true of, say, J.K.Rowling and Ian Rankin.

I’m interested in books with intriguing inscriptions from the author. Partly, I must admit, because I have a half-formed mystery plot floating around my mind that involves such an inscription. One or two inscribed books of my own feature in the Collecting Crime page on my website.

There are a number of inscribed items in James M. Pickard’s catalogue of rare books. Two that caught my eye were co-written paperbacks from 1964, the two volumes that made up Liberal Studies: an outline Course. One of the authors and signatories was one N.C. Dexter. Much better known today as the creator of Inspector Morse…

One place where thankfully there is no shortage of second hand books is Hay-on-Wye. And as I've sorted Blogger out (for the moment, anyway) here are some pictures as promised from my recent trip.

However, given that my resident webmaster and IT guru has just left home to start his university career, it's only a question of time before my attempts to cope with technology are afflicted by various glitches. So apologies in advance for any examples of incompetence....

Double Jeopardy

There will never be a film about an insurance scam to match Double Indemnity, but the 1999 movie Double Jeopardy was, I discovered the other evening, an enjoyable time-passer. It stars Tommy Lee Jones at his edgiest, and the glamorous Ashley Judd. They are a rich couple who seem to have it all, but there are questions about the reliability of Tommy (surprise, surprise) and when they go off sailing, Ashley wakes to find a trail of blood, a sharp knife…and no husband.

Ashley, it turns out, was to benefit under her husband’s insurance policy, and she is arrested, though no body is found. She arranges for her beloved child to be adopted by her best friend, and is sent to prison. I have to say that it struck me as amazing that her guilt would be so easily established on pretty flimsy evidence. And the concept of ‘double jeopardy’, as explained in the film, doesn’t really stand up in the context of the facts of the story-line.

However, if you can overlook the plot holes (not everyone can, I realise) what follows is a pretty exciting action thriller. Ashley is determined to retrieve her child, and exact revenge, and stops at nothing to achieve her goals. Needless to say, she does one or two pretty stupid things which expose her to grave danger when she comes face to face with a ruthless killer. But that’s not too unusual in crime movies, is it?

I enjoyed this film. It is so well made that you can suspend your disbelief for a hundred minutes or so. Not a classic, but not bad, either.

Hugh Greene and Sherlock's Rivals

I mentioned Hugh Greene recently. He is nowadays little remembered, in comparison to his brother Graham, yet in his time (1910-1987) he became a major public figure, notably as Director General of the BBC. He picked up a knighthood, published a few books and managed to fit in four marriages. A busy chap.

When I was ten or eleven, I was given as a Christmas present The Spy’s Bedside Book, a nice anthology which Hugh edited together with Graham. Enjoyable stuff, but even better was a subsequent present, The Rivals of Sherlock Holmes. This was a collection of stories about detective characters whose exploits were overshadowed by the more famous Sherlock. Examples included Romney Pringle and the villainous Dorrington.

The book was a deserved success, and spawned a television series. This has recently come out on DVD and the only reason I haven’t yet treated myself to a copy is because I can’t imagine when I’d get to watch it. But I’m sure I will succumb to temptation in due course.

Hugh Greene produced three more compilations of short stories from the era of Conan Doyle. One book featured rural crimes, another was devoted to early examples of Eurocrime, and a third to American mysteries. There were some good finds in each volume, and if you like early detective stories, you will find much to feast on in the Hugh Greene anthologies.

Forgotten Book - Dupe

Liza Cody’s Dupe ought to be a controversial inclusion for Patti Abbott’s Forgotten Friday series. True, it’s almost thirty years since the book appeared, in 1980, but it won the John Creasey Memorial Dagger for best debut crime novel of the year, and it introduced us not only to a fine author, but also to a fine character, the private eye Anna Lee.

Anna is an appealing character: youthful, a bit frustrated, and currently bottom in the pecking order at Brierley Security, Private Investigations. When the bereaved parents of Deirdre Jackson approach Brierley Security, wanting to know more about the car crash that killed their daughter, it doesn’t seem like a great job, so naturally it goes to Anna. But as she investigates the down-at-heel film business in which Deirdre worked, she discovers that there was more to the death than met the eye. The title of the book, naturally, has a double meaning.

This was one of those books I read in the eighties, and from which I sought a bit of inspiration, when I was thinking about what it took to write a fresh new mystery series. I liked Cody’s crisp, economical style of writing, the plausible way in which Anna and her colleagues were depicted, and the evocative way in which she depicted Anna Lee’s London. These qualities are enduring strengths of her work, and it was no surprise when the Anna Lee series was adapted for television. With that excellent actor Imogen Stubbs in the title role, it should have been a winner. But somehow the mix didn’t work, and Liza seems to have become disillusioned with the Anna Lee series. It’s a long time since this appealing character last appeared.

Happily, Liza Cody continues to write novels and short stories (she also co-edited three volumes of the CWA anthology before I took over the editorship), although these appear less frequently than in the past. She is not by any means a forgotten author, and Dupe definitely should not be a forgotten book.

The Serpent Pool

I’ve said it before, and I am sure I’ll say it again, but blogging has introduced me to a large number of delightful people, both fellow bloggers and readers/commenters, and a good many have shown me a lot of kindness over the couple of years that I’ve been posting to ‘Do you write under your own name?’

Among them is Karen, of Eurocrime, who this week kindly featured advance news of the publication of The Serpent Pool in the UK and the US. I’m pleased to say that negotiations are also well under way with my German publishers Luebbe with a view to the book appearing in translation next year. 

What has gratified me most is the reaction of the three sets of publishers. Each of them has said, separately, that they regard The Serpent Pool as the best of the Lake District Mysteries to date. This is exactly the sort of reaction that one hopes for, of course, but publishers can be robust people in private discussion, and I am sure that none of my publishers would have said this if they didn’t genuinely mean it.

I always want my latest book to be better than its predecessors, but of course, critical opinion can vary. However, I’m looking forward to next year’s publication of this title with a good deal of hope that others will share the enthusiasm of the various publishers.

In the meantime, here is the proposed cover of the US edition from Poisoned Pen Press.