Another Death in Paradise?

Of the nine islands that I visited on my recent Caribbean trip, French was the principal language on just one, Guadeloupe (and one of two principal languages on St Maarten, an island split between the French and the Dutch). I found Guadeloupe fascinating, and not only because it's the place where that highly successful TV series Death in Paradise is filmed. The creator of the series, Robert Thorogood, named his fictional main town Honore, a hat tip to the scene of the crime in Agatha Christie's A Caribbean Mystery.

I didn't actually make it to the resort where the show is filmed, though one couple did make that specific pilgrimage, such is their love of the series. But Guadeloupe is full of interesting and often very beautiful places. And my interest in the macabre was piqued by the fascinating "checkerboard cemetery" to which we were taken. I've never seen anything quite like it.

During my trip, I managed to do plenty of reading, and the books I devoured will feature on this blog in the near future. I also had time to think about my current work in progress. But even more importantly in the long run, perhaps, I was able to continue my research into Caribbean life. I'm hoping to make something substantial out of this.

My fascination with the area has already resulted in two short stories. "A Glimpse of Hell", set in Gran Cayman, has already been published, while "Farewell Cruise" should appear in print next year. But I also have other plans in mind, which will draw on the research I've managed to undertake during my various trips to the area over the past three years. It will be a while before I'm in a position to talk further about these plans, but suffice to say that I am sure that Death in Paradise has not exhausted the possibilities for Caribbean-based crime fiction, and what I have in mind is something very different.

Another Caribbean Mystery Tour

I've just returned from a wonderful trip, exploring the Caribbean (for reasons which I'll talk about a little tomorrow). Drinking rum punch at 90 degrees Fahrenheit in lovely St Thomas (above) in the US Virgin Islands, as I was last Friday, is - I need hardly say - a great way to run up to Christmas. Even if it does mean that my Yuletide preparations so far are more or less non-existent.and  the process of adapting back to chilly Cheshire is a bit of a challenge.

The trip started with a couple of days in Puerto Rico (above and below photos). It's an island which was for many years home to Muna Lee, one half of the writing duo Newton Gayle which produced five high calibre mysteries in the Golden Age. Murder at 28:10 is an atmospheric story set on the island during the hurricane season which I enjoyed some time ago, but of course there's no substitute for seeing the real place. I was very taken with Puerto Rico,and the historic capital San Juan.

After San Juan came a cruise, mostly to islands that I'd never visited before. There are many reasons why I enjoy cruising - prime among them is the chance to sample fresh places, and expand my knowledge and understanding of the world, and the different people who live in it. It's something that, I've had more of a chance to do in recent time than for most of my life, and for any author, that exposure to fresh cultures and fascinating people has to be hugely beneficial.

Two islands I had visited previously were Barbados and St Lucia. Holidays on Barbados inspired Agatha Christie to write A Caribbean Mystery, one of the first detective stories I ever read, although she located her crime on the fictional island of St Honore. I don't, however, know which island inspired the setting of Roger East's rather less well-known, but memorably titled  Twenty-Five Sanitary Inspectors, which is set in a fictional West Indian republic. .

Rogue's Yarn - 1957 film review

Rogue's Yarn is a film released in 1957 which has recently featured on the Talking Pictures TV channel. The clever screenplay, by Vernon Sewell and Ernie Bradford, is an "inverted mystery", and the story is told in gripping fashion. It may not be Dial M for Murder, but it's not far short of Hitchcock's much better known movie in terms of storytelling quality. A well-made film, it's definitely worth watching.

Our attention is grabbed right at the start. Michele Cartier (Nicole Mauray) is waiting for the arrival of her lover, John Marsden (Derek Bond, the best-known actor in the cast). He announces that he has bad news. This turns out to be an announcement that his invalid wife, whose death the pair had been eagerly anticipating, is now expected to make a full recovery from serious illness.

The snag is that the wife is very rich, and the lovers are desperate not only to get together, but to do so with Mrs Marsden's money. The only solution is murder. Marsden, an accomplished sailor, quickly works out an elaborate plan which involves taking his boat on a trip to Le Havre to create an alibi, then swimming back to the English shore to do the dirty deed.

At first, all goes well. Unfortunately, the Yard are called in, and Inspector Walker (Elwyn Brook-Jones, who is very good in the role) decides to take a closer look at the circumstances of the crime. We know that all is not likely to go well for Marsden, and we don't like him enough to root for him to get away with it, but there are several memorable moments, notably including a great scene where Walker, not once but several times, nearly walks into a fatal trap set by the bad guy.

Forgotten Book - Death of a Queen

Death of a Queen by Christopher St John Sprigg is definitely a Forgotten Book. I've been searching for it in vain for many years, but I finally had an opportunity to read the British Library's copy. If you found a nice copy in a dust jacket, it would be a good investment, I suspect, because the BL's republication of Sprigg's Death of an Airman has led to a renewal of interest in this fascinating author. Some people have told me that book is their favourite in the Crime Classics series.

Published in 1935, this was the last conventional whodunit to appear under Sprigg's name prior to his untimely death in the Spanish Civil War. (Six Queer Things was published posthumously). The book is sub-titled "Charles Venables' fourth case", and here the journalist is called upon by Whitehall to assist a sympathetic (and conveniently English-speaking) tiny state in the Balkans.

My heart sank when I realised that this story takes place in Iconia. So many Golden Age books have plots or sub-plots involving sub-Ruritanian kingdoms on the brink of revolution, and handle the material ineptly. But Sprigg recognises the difficulties, and explicitly, if rather cheekily, makes it clear at the outset that Iconia is no Ruritania. He also invents the country's history, heritage and architecture with great enthusiasm, and this makes the story all the more appealing.

What's more, there is a very good "impossible crime" at the heart of the story. How did the eponymous monarch - strangled with a silken cord - meet her end, when her chamber was under constant observation, and nobody saw the murderer go in or out? Sprigg handles the unlikely plot twists with gusto. All in all, this is an enjoyable story, extremely far-fetched, but told with youthful zest. I'm glad I overcame my initial reservations and read it through to the end.

Endless Night - 1972 film review

Endless Night is one of the very best books that Agatha Christie wrote in the last fifteen years of her life. I think it's under-rated, perhaps because it re-uses one of her earlier ideas for a plot twist. But it does so in a very pleasing way. Not an easy book to adapt for the big screen, though, and the 1972 film version is not, I think, widely admired.

But when I saw it as a student, I enjoyed it, and when I watched it again the other night, I enjoyed it all over again. This was the last film directed by Sidney Gilliat, a talented director whose previous work included the film of Green for Danger, and a writing credit for The Lady Vanishes. He does a fairly good job of handling the plot twists, though of necessity he has to make various changes to the story structure. One or two scenes are a little clumsy, but overall I think it works.

Gilliat had the benefit of an excellent cast. Hywel Bennett, who plays Mike Rogers, a drifter who marries a rich woman, is excellent. At around this time, Bennett was a bankable actor. He was charismatic, and very good at playing ambivalent characters. He'd have been superb as one of Ruth Rendell's amiable sociopaths - what a shame this never happened. And he was very good as the homicidal doctor in the 70s TV version of Malice Aforethought.

Two contrastingly beautiful women, Hayley Mills and Britt Ekland, play crucial roles in the story, while George Sanders is suitably suave as the family lawyer, and Peter Bowles plays the likeable cad with his customary gusto. This is an eerie mystery, about an apparent curse, a magnificent house, and a diabolical murder scheme, and it all makes for good entertainment.

The Haunted Library and Lost in a Pyramid

The British Library publishes a wide range of books. Naturally, my focus is on the Classic Crime series, but I've also enjoyed a number of their other publications in recent times. And just in time for Christmas, they've published two short story collections which are very much in keeping with the tradition of spooky stories for a dark winter's night.

The Haunted Library (great title!) is a volume of stories selected by Tanya Kirk. She was responsible for the BL's excellent Gothic Imagination exhibition last year- which I really enjoyed. Now she's put together a book of classic ghost stories by a range of authors, several of whom I'm not familiar with. The obvious exception is M.R. James, and "The Tractate Middoth" was televised a couple of years back. A notable story, ideal for this particular book.

Other notable contributors include Edith Wharton, Algernon Blackwood and Elizabeth Bowen. But I'd never heard of A.N.L. Munsby or one or two of the others. Mixing familiar writers with those who are long neglected is a good recipe for an anthology of this kind. A similar approach has been adopted by Andrew Smith, who is responsible for Lost in a Pyramid and other classic Mummy stories..

Andrew Smith's intro talks very interestingly about his subject, and it directed me to a book by Roger Luckhurst about "mummy curse" fiction, which I've just bought. "Lot no. 249" by Arthur Conan Doyle is the only story I've read before, but a varied range of contributors, including Louisa May Alcott, Grant Allen, and Sax Rohmer ensure that there's plenty of entertainment for mummy fans everywhere!.

Forgotten Book - The Fashion in Shrouds

The description "forgotten book" is, to be honest, a misnomer when it comes to Margery Allingham's 1938 novel The Fashion in Shrouds. The famous Observer critic Torquemada extolled the book, saying, "To Albert Campion has fallen the honour of being the first detective to figure in a story which is also by any standard a distinguished novel". I'm not sure whether Dorothy L.Sayers would have agreed; perhaps she'd have thought that she'd beaten her friend Allingham to that particular achievement. But it's undeniably a stylish novel.

Time and again there are pleasing and inventive turns of phrase, of a kind that one doesn't usually find in the typical Golden Age mystery. What's more, the presentation of the fashion world, which provides, in the early stages of the story, an interesting setting, is convincing. Allingham's presentation of character generally avoids the usual cliches, and the relationship Campion has with the lovely young Amanda Fitton is quite subtly done.

It's not easy to read this book in the precisely way that readers in 1938 would have read it. There's a good deal about social class, and the role of women in society, that relates to the time, and although Allingham handles these issues in a thoughtful way, so much has changed. Overall, I did not find these aspects of the book to be as compelling as some of her admirers suggest. For me, as with Sayers' Gaudy Night, Fashion in Shrouds does sacrifice something in the attempt at literary sophistication. The plot simply isn't as exciting as, say, the plot of Christie's The ABC Murders or Wade's Lonely Magdalen.- and the latter also offers a fascinating picture of society, and the role of police in enforcing the law.

What of the story? The amoral Georgia Wells poses a threat to the relationship between Campion's sister Valentine and Alan Dell (for whose company Amanda works).Georgia's husband is murdered, and the fate of his predecessor also comes under the microscope. But the plot is secondary, I think, and for that reason I don't feel tempted to rave about this book in the way its most ardent fans do. Even so, I enjoyed reading it, and as Torquemada said, the writing is distinguished.

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Build My Gallows High - film review

Build My Gallows High - also known, but I think less memorably, as Out of the Past - is a classic film noir dating from 1947 that, somehow or other, I've managed to miss all these years. At last I've caught up with it, and I was impressed, not least with the central performance by Robert Mitchum as a man who goes by the name Jeff Bailey.

The film opens with a man arriving at Bailey's gasoline station, and one immediately fears the worst. Bailey has a pretty, innocent girlfriend, and when the newcomer threatens his new-found happiness, he tells her about his past. His real name is Jeff Markham, and he was formerly a partner in a two-man private eye firm. He was hired by Whit Sterling, a rich crook (Kirk Douglas) to find a woman who, he says, shot him and made off with forty thousand dollars. But when he eventually caught up with the missing lady, he fell head over heels for her.

This isn't surprising, because Kathie (Jane Greer) is beautiful and seductive. I can't recall having seen Jane Greer before, but she makes a truly stunning femme fatale. As the plot becomes increasingly complex, her habit of destroying the men who cross her path is utterly compelling. This is a doom-laden film, with superbly concise dialogue.   .

The source material was the final novel written by Daniel Mainwaring (1902-77), published under the name Geoffrey Homes. He also wrote the screenplay, and became more interested in scripting films than in turning out more novels - though I'd guess his earlier books are well worth seeking out. The director of the film was the gifted Jacques Tourneur, whose other work included Cat People and The Leopard Man (based on Black Alibi, an excellent book by Cornell Woolrich). Build My Gallows High was successfully re-made as Against All Odds in 1984; I haven't seen it (though I liked the famous theme song), but I'm keen to watch it now, especially as it features Jane Greer - but not, this time, as a femme fatale.

The Girl on the Train - book review

Paula Hawkins' thriller The Girl on the Train has become perhaps the most successful book in roughly the same vein as Gillian Flynn's bestseller Gone Girl. (Perhaps I should have called my last book The Girl from the Dungeon House). It's an example of domestic suspense, an update of the woman-in-jeopardy type of novel that has been around for many years, but which has in recent times had a fresh lease of life.

Hawkins' book, like Flynn's, features unreliable narrators, and marriages tested to destruction. Like Flynn, she uses first person narratives cunningly; they give the story immediacy (even though some of the sections are set before the crucial sequence of events begins) and they conceal as much as they reveal. These are powerful techniques if used well, and I feel that Hawkins handles the material expertly. I was not surprised to learn that, although this is the first Hawkins novel, she has previously published fiction under a pen-name as she learned her craft. There is something highly professional about the storytelling.

The principal narrator (there are three in all) is Rachel, an alcoholic who becomes obsessed with the lives of a seemingly happy couple whose house is on her train route. Hawkins has acknowledged her debt to Rear Window (the film, perhaps, rather than Cornell Woolrich's excellent novella) and is evidently an Alfred Hitchcock fan, but makes inventive use of the idea of a voyeur watching a crime scene. Rachel behaves crazily, involving herself in lives that are no business of hers, with dangerous results. It's all very gripping.

An interesting feature of the book is that there are only six main characters, three men and three women. Suffice to say that none of them is likeable, and if you prefer your novels to have at least one character you can love, you may not find this book to your taste. Yet Hawkins has argued that there is something appealing about Rachel, and I certainly found myself wanting to know what fate she would meet. Gone Girl set a high standard for domestic suspense novels, but Hawkins' book is a worthy example of the form, and deserves its success..

Forgotten Book - Policemen in the Precinct

E.C.R. Lorac published Policeman in the Precinct,,my Forgotten Book for today, in 1949. It's an enjoyable read, and the setting is the precinct of Paulborough Abbey, a fictitious place located somewhere around the Cotswolds. The Abbey and its environs are well realised, suggesting a real life model, though I'm not quite sure what the "original", if there is one, might be. Lorac wanted to disguise the place, perhaps because she has harsh things to say about the gossipy behaviour of the locals, and the selfish, high-handed attitudes of the Dean.

In fact, I found her portrayal of the small world of the Abbey precinct even more interesting than the whodunit puzzle. In saying this, I must add that the "mystery" element of the story is certainly not weak or flimsy. No fewer than four suspicious deaths (not all of them necessarily involving murder) take place, and one of them reminded me of a similar crime in Agatha Christie's Dead Man's Folly, published seven years later. Suspicion switches around a small (perhaps too small?) cast of suspects before Chief Inspector Macdonald figures out the truth.

The key death is that of a malicious gossip called Mrs Mayden. Although this is not a "poison pen letter" story, the point is made that the spreading of unkind rumours about Paulborough people by word of mouth is in the same vein as an outbreak of spiteful letters. Mrs Mayden was a religious fanatic, and Lorac clearly has no time for such folk, or for people who enjoy backbiting.

Macdonald voices sentiments which surely express Lorac's own views: "I''m probably incapable of judging the high ecclesiastic fairly. I'm a Protestant by nature, and priestly arrogance gets all my hackles up".At one point he advocates rehousing the inhabitants of the precincts in the poorest cottages in town:"They might then find so much to do that they might mend their ways of taking excessive interest in their neighbours' visitors.."

Macdonald's humane outlook on life is emphasised, and we also learn a bit about his background. He describes himself as a "London Scot", whose father, a journalist, came from Inverness to London. Macdonald served in the London Scottish during the war, before going up to Oxford, but his father's death during his first year as a student meant that he had to earn a living, prompting a decision to join the Metropolitan Police. He's a bachelor whose batman used to do his chores, before both the batman and his home were bombed out of existence in 1941. Macdonald moved to a modern block of flats, still facing the river, but finds it "a poor way of living, and London seems to have altered such a lot since..I was a boy". This story is a good one, and Macdonald is a very likeable character.