Forgotten Book - The Case of Robert Quarry

I have quite a vivid memory of being on holiday with my parents in Colwyn Bay in the mid-70s when my Dad ran out of books to read. So he bought a paperback from a rack outside a shop, a book written by an author neither he nor I were familiar with. This was Andrew Garve and The Case of Robert Quarry, originally published in 1972. My recollection is that he said he enjoyed it, but I never got round to reading it. Perhaps this was because I'd brought plenty of my own books with me that week. But it may also have been because it seemed, from the back cover blurb, to be a novel based around the industrial strife that was a constant feature of the 1970s, and which I was pretty sick of, not least because the three-day week led to my spending three months on the dole at the start of what was intended to be a 'gap year' prior to going to university.

Only now, therefore, half a century later, have I finally got round to reading it. And I found that the industrial background, although realistically depicted, doesn't intrude too much into the story; it merely supplies a topical and interesting context. And the novel itself is a genuine detective story, and a very good one too. This might now be my favourite Andrew Garve novel.

This is a police novel, with the focus on Detective Chief Superintendent Joseph Burns, who is on the verge of retirement, called in to investigate a high-profile murder. The body of a prominent and controversial industrialist, Robert Quarry, has been found in the boot of a car - with his arm sticking out. Quarry's company is in the midst of a bitter strike and there are indications that his killing may be associated with the dispute. But it soon starts to look as though there is more to it than that, because Quarry's own behaviour in the hours leading up to his death is curious, to say the least.

There is a really clever idea at the heart of this story. So clever that I'm not going to spoil it in this post by saying what it is. I can't recall any other novel using the same idea, though it may be that one of Freeman Wills Crofts's novels verged towards it. But I really liked the concept and the way that Burns doggedly unravels the villainy at the heart of the story. An excellent novel. 

The Diary of a Bookseller by Shaun Bythell

On Monday I mentioned Ruth Anderson of Wigtown's Well Read Books. She's not only a great bookseller but also very generous and she gave me a gift, a book written by a fellow Wigtown bookshop owner, Shaun Bythell. Shaun, whom I haven't met, owns The Bookshop, which is Scotland's largest second-hand bookshop. I've been inside twice, and it's taken a great effort of will to restrict myself to just one purchase each time. The shop has an eclectic stock, and its crime shelves carry a lot of interesting titles; I've bought books by D.M. Devine and Andrew Garve on my two visits. And - the same is true of Ruth's shop - I could have come away with many more, had I not exercised great self-restraint.

Selling things is difficult, and selling books (if you're not Amazon) is definitely very difficult, whether you're an author, a publisher, or a bookseller. So I was fascinated by Shaun's Diary of a Bookseller, which takes us through a year of his retailing life. It's funny but also packed with insights. It must be said that Shaun cultivates a grumpy old man persona, even though he started bookselling when he was pretty young, but some of his takedowns of difficult and unreasonable customers (of whom there is evidently no shortage) are highly entertaining.

There are so many gems, it's almost impossible to know where to start. I did like very much the character who confused E.L. James with M.R. James and was destined to be shocked to discover that Fifty Shades of Grey isn't a story of the supernatural. There are also some great vignettes about coachloads of visiting pensioners who never buy anything. 

You have to be made of strong stuff to run a bookshop nowadays, and it's very clear that Shaun isn't in it for the money - but he loves books, and enjoys being answerable to nobody. It's also evident that he isn't into crime fiction, so there's very little here that relates to my favourite reading. This doesn't matter in the least, because he has written a marvellous book.

Harrogate, the Lakes, and Scotland

I'm back at home after an eventful few weeks. I spent some time at Harrogate coinciding with the crime writing festival, and had some lovely meals and other get-togethers with my agent, various publishers, and fellow writers. It was mainly a business-focused trip, but there was also the chance for plenty of enjoyable conversations. And I came back in very good heart, since one of the outcomes was agreement on a new deal for my next three novels. I'm excited about the prospect, and I'll talk more about what is in store at a later date.

After that, I was on the road again almost immediately, off to the Lake District. For the very first time in its history, the Detection Club held a meeting in the north of England. This decision was taken at last year's AGM, and so the 2026 AGM was held in the pleasant surroundings of the Castle Green Hotel on the outskirts of Kendal (photo at the top of this post). I also put on an exhibition relating to Reginald Hill, who lived in and sometimes wrote about the Lake District, using materials (letters, manuscripts, books etc) mainly from my own collection but also with two or three items from the Club's own archive. The AGM was great and so was the summer lunch, which was very well attended. The success of the event means that we're almost certain to return to the north again next summer. 

The trip also gave the chance to explore the area. For the first time, perhaps surprisingly, I visited John Ruskin's old home at Brantwood, on one of those lovely fine days we've enjoyed this summer. The house and gardens are equally fascinating, while the location, on the banks of Coniston, is superb. Ruskin, who gets a few mentions in the Coniston-set The Arsenic Labyrinth, was a brilliant man, but his personal life was troubled. My sense of him is that he lived too much in the mind, in the realm of ideas and ideals, and found the real world, and relationships (especially with the women with whom he fell in love), rather difficult, and that's no doubt why his later years were marked by a sad and steep mental decline.

                                         

After that, it was up to Scotland, and the Dumfries and Galloway area, which I really like. I did an event in Wigtown to a sell-out crowd; this was organised by Ruth Anderson of Well Read Books, a quite wonderful bookshop with a terrific Crime Room. And of course I came away with quite a few books. After staying in Monreith for a couple of nights with my old mate Stephen, and visiting places like Whithorn (home to St Ninian's Priory, the old church in the photo above) we headed for Sanquhar, a nice little town with a ruined castle, a Tollbooth Museum, and the oldest post office in the world. There were two particular highlights - a visit to Crawick Multiverse, and a day spent in the splendid environs of Drumlanrig Castle. 

                                       

Wonderful trips, in wonderful company. I have returned refreshed and ready to get writing! And I've started with a new Life of Crime Premium newsletter all about codes and ciphers; you can find it here: https://substack.com/@martinedwardsbooks

Forgotten Book - File on Claudia Cragge

It's more than two years since I last discussed Crime Dossiers on this blog, so it's high time to take another look at one of the most enduringly thought-provoking ways of telling a story about a murder mystery. Today I'm looking at the second Dossier that was written by Q. Patrick (Richard Wilson Webb and Hugh Wheeler), File on Claudia Cragge, which dates from 1938.

The interactive nature of the dossier is emphasised by the publisher. The heading on the front cover of my edition (published by Jarrolds in Britain; the American edition is slightly different) is: 'Be your own detective'. And the front cover text reads: 'Through the novel dossier form of presenting the complete case of a crime to the reader, with actual clews...a new dimension of reality has been brought to the detective-story...the realistic account of a criminal action, exactly as received at Police Headquarters. The crime was a murder. The police solved it. Can you?'

Who can resist such a challenge? Not me! But I have to admit that in this case, I didn't get close to the correct solution, as I managed to lead myself astray by focusing initially on a character to whom I thought suspiciously little attention was being paid and then on someone else whom I thought was a credible suspect; the latter assumption was logical, but I missed the vital bit of information. 

This story can be regarded as a locked room mystery, with murder committed at a seance -at which Lieutenant Timothy Trant is present. There is one extremely good visual clue in the dossier which I missed, though I wasn't quite so impressed by some of the other clues. But it's a pretty good story.

There are two noticeable differences from Q. Patrick's other crime dossier, File on Fenton and Farr. That story is longer, and I wondered whether it was originally conceived as a novel. And it was clearly inspired by a real-life case. This mystery, although it involves that classic Golden Age trope the seance, is less convoluted. The coming of the Second World War killed off enthusiasm for mysteries of this kind and Wilson and Webb never returned to this format. But the tide has turned and crime dossiers are undoubtedly attracting more attention now than in the past. And given that I've been interested in them for many years, I'm delighted about that.   

Men - 2022 film review

British folk-horror appeals to me, although it will probably be a long time before anyone tops the film that really catapulted this type of storytelling into the public eye, The Wicker Man. Men, a 2022 film written and directed by the very talented Alex Garland, is at the surreal end of the spectrum. It opens with a favourite song of mine, 'Love Song', performed by Lesley Duncan, and this is a clue to the central theme.

Jessie Buckley, who can do nothing wrong on the screen, is impressive in the role of Harper Marlowe, who has been traumatised by the apparent suicide of her husband James, after a row when he struck her after she made it clear she was going to divorce him. He'd tried emotional blackmail, threatening to end his life, reflecting a controlling attitude that, the film suggests, is a masculine characteristic. I don't go along with the generalisation, but the story is well made.

In the hope of getting over the tragedy, Harper rents a lovely country house for a fortnight, in a village called Cotson in the west country. The owner, Geoffrey, is an oddball, although apparently harmless. He's played by Rory Kinnear, and it soon becomes clear that all the men in the village are played by him. What's it all about?

I don't want to give too many spoilers, but it's fair to say that this is not a film for the squeamish. Harper finds herself stalked by a naked man, taunted by a youth, and fondled by the vicar as events build towards a tumultuous climax. This film isn't a masterpiece, but if you like folk horror, it's definitely one to watch. If only for the excellent acting of both Jessie Buckley and Rory Kinnear.

Affliction - 1997 film review

 

Affliction is a bleak film, a study of cyclical violence and psychological disintegration. If you're looking for something to cheer you up, this is one to avoid until you're in the right mood. But it is a very good film, directed by the accomplished Paul Schrader and based on a novel by Russell Banks, which lives up to its considerable critical reputation. It's a crime film, with a suspicious death and a troubled cop at its heart, but it's really a drama about human nature, not a mystery in the conventional sense.

Nick Nolte plays Wade Whitehouse, a cop in a small town in New Hampshire. He is divorced and his wife Lillian (Mary Beth Hurt, who was married to Schrader) has custody of their daughter Jill, to whom he is devoted, although their relationship isn't easy. He's now involved with Margie (Sissy Spacek, who is very sympathetic as she tries to cope with a disturbed lover) and he has a brother Rolfe (Willem Dafoe) who provides crucial information in a voiceover at the end of the film - a device that would usually seem like a real cop-out, but which works quite well here, except for the fact that one crucial event, a killing, would surely have worked better if we were shown it, with some build-up, rather than in effect being told about it.

The death of Wade's mother means that his alcoholic and violent father Glen (James Coburn, who won an Oscar for his performance) comes to live with him and Margie. Meanwhile, Wade becomes fixated with the death of a crooked businessman called Twombley, who was shot while on a hunting trip with a local guide called Jack (Jim True). Jack claims the death was an accident, but Wade isn't convinced.

Wade's behaviour as he unravels becomes increasingly illogical and scary for those around him, and the final scenes are upsetting. I've seen this film described as a 'neo-noir crime drama', but that really doesn't convey the flavour of a movie that deals thoughtfully with the question of violent impulses. I've always had a dread of violence, and perhaps that's why I find it fascinating. So often violent movies are crass, but Affliction, although a mostly understated, slow-burn of a film, is compelling.

Forgotten Book - Panic

Helen McCloy was one of the most interesting American woman crime writers of the twentieth century. I say this on the strength of having read less than half of her extremely varied output, but it's a claim I make with some confidence. Her debut, Dance of Death (1938) introduced her series character Dr Basil Willing and was an extremely impressive performance; it marked the start of a long and impressive career.

Today, though, I'm focusing on a stand-alone novel that she published originally in 1944. This was Panic, a book that I think is not only very unusual but also very well-written. However, the novel wasn't published in the UK until 1972. According to that edition (under the admirable imprint of Victor Gollancz), British publishers turned it down 'on the curious grounds that English readers were not interested in such puzzles'. That edition was also modified to remove some wartime references.

This does seem amazing, but it's a little easier to understand when you discover that a large portion of the novel is devoted to discussion of a complex cipher, created by elderly Felix Mulholland, an expert in the ancient Greeks, whose death from an overdose of digitalis occurs right at the start of the story. Even though McCloy's explanation of how different ciphers work is lucid, the material is challenging, and I must admit I didn't try to solve the cipher.

But there's more to the book than that. Has Felix been murdered, and if so, by whom? And when his niece Alison takes refuge in a remote cottage in the middle of nowhere, is she really safe - or at greater risk than ever before? McCloy combines an ingenious puzzle with skilfully created suspense and a decent whodunit (although some of the information about the culprit's motive was not foreshadowed quite as much as I'd have liked). This is a memorable novel, despite some imperfections, and I plan to talk about it in more detail in a future Life of Crime newsletter.  

The Detection Club - exciting times...

Today sees the Detection Club's AGM and summer lunch - which will take place in the Lake District, the first time the Club has ever met in the north of England. This was a decision taken by the members at last year's AGM and I'm excited about it. We will also have some fantastic news to celebrate, and I can do no better than quote the press release issued by Quercus Books:

'Quercus is delighted to announce the acquisition of The Detection Club Murders, a collaborative crime mystery written by current members of the Detection Club, the oldest and most prestigious social network of some of the most successful and prominent crime writers in the world.

The Club was founded in 1930 and amongst its first members were Agatha Christie, G.K. Chesterton and Dorothy L. Sayers, all of whom became Club Presidents. Over the years other leading names such as Margery Allingham, John Le Carre, and Len Deighton followed.

Set in the present day, and featuring a premise that mirrors a real-life Club dinner, The Detection Club Murders opens with a mysterious killing. During the Club’s legendary induction ritual for new members, the room is plunged into darkness when, suddenly, a shot is fired. As the lights come back on, a dead body lies amongst the guests – but we don’t know who has been murdered, or why. Or perhaps even how…

As the police begin their investigation, members of the Detection Club themselves try to work out whodunit through a witty and mind-boggling maze of clues, red herrings, and unexpected twists.
The project is masterminded by the current President of the Club, Martin Edwards, who brings together a stunning raft of today’s leading crime authors, who will craft a classic locked room murder mystery reminiscent of the very best Golden Age detective fiction. All participating names will be released in stages and as a key element of a major marketing campaign.

Publisher Stef Bierwerth says, ‘The minute I opened up Martin’s proposal I was struck by how perfect the finished novel will be for all fans of the classic murder mystery. Built on the decade-long tradition of the world’s most iconic crime writer union, The Detection Club Murders will combine many of the most well-known crime writing brands under one banner, collaborating on a contemporary crime novel. Part of our campaign will be to reveal the different participants step by step – and trust me, you won’t be disappointed by who is taking part in this project.’

Martin Edwards says, ‘Ever since I proposed this book to Club members, I’ve been bowled over by their enthusiasm for the project. Agatha Christie and other founder members of the Club wrote collaborative mysteries in the 1930s, notably The Floating Admiral, and this book will be published to coincide with the centenary of the dinner meetings that led to the Club’s formation. We’re writing The Detection Club Murders in an original way, so as to bring our members’ individual talents to the fore and result in a mystery which reinvents classic crime and gives our readers rich entertainment.’  

The Detection Club Murders will be published in 2028.' 

The White Lotus - season 3 review

To my delight and surprise, season three of The White Lotus (expanded again, this time to eight episodes, but thankfully with little or no padding) was even better than the first two seasons. And that's saying something, because I think this is absolutely first-rate commercial television fare. Writer-director Mike White has achieved something special.

This time the setting is the White Lotus resort in Thailand, a country I've never visited but which looks fascinating. White makes excellent use of the background, and explores (amongst various other things) the way different people approach spirituality. Again there's plenty of satire, especially when the lives of the haves are contrasted with those of the have-nots. But one of White's strengths is that he doesn't depend on the obvious. Far from it. Characters we thought really had a moral compass turn out to be flawed. Even unpleasant individuals can have a pleasant side. 'Justice', as most people would see it, certainly does not always prevail.

Two characters whom we've encountered previously make return appearances that are unexpected by me - and by them. Their renewed acquaintance becomes an important strand in a complex storyline, which opens with another variation on the 'whowasdunin' theme, with an unknown person shooting manically before we flash back to the arrival of a fresh group of guests at the resort.

Jason Isaacs, an actor I've always liked (and once imagined as Harry Devlin - yes, he's a Scouser, even though here he plays an American businessman), and his wife and three children, are amongst the guests who play a pivotal part in the story. We also, once again, become invested in the lives of select members of the hotel staff, including the likeable security guard Gaitok and the pretty colleague whom he fancies. There's a mysterious and rather menacing chap called Rick and his Mancunian girlfriend Chelsea (a great performance by Aimee Lou Wood): see the photo above.

There's a lot of discussion online about the class and privilege issues which crop up in The White Lotus. But there's something else that strikes me about the scripts. A central recurring theme is the sheer randomness of fate. Whichever character you become attached to, you can't be sure they will survive.   

Forgotten Book - The Singing Masons

 

A few years ago, I had the chance to pick up, at a very modest price, an inscribed copy of a novel called The Singing Masons, written by Francis Vivian. I didn't know much about Vivian or his work, but the inscription featured both his pen-name and his real name, Ernest (in fact, his full name was Arthur Ernest Ashley), so I snapped it up. However, I didn't manage to get round to reading it and it slipped slowly down my TBR pile. These things happen.

It leapt back up that pile when I was invited to give a talk about Francis Vivian by Nottinghamshire Libraries, for whom I've done quite a number of events over the years. The idea was to give the talk at Retford Library, where I've spoken before, since Ashley came from that neck of the woods. So my first step was to read The Singing Masons! I didn't know how good it would be, though the fact that the book was published by Hodder, in 1950, I found quite encouraging.

This is an enjoyable book, featuring a likeable Scotland Yard man called Knollis, a series character who works hand in hand with the local inspector, Wilson. The investigative style is faintly reminiscent of Freeman Wills Crofts, but we get a reference to the film version of Chandler's The Lady in the Lake, as well as mention of Poe's Dupin. And the epigraph is a highly relevant quotation from Henry V.

There's a useful map at the start of the book, which I should have studied more closely (though I did figure out whodunit by other means). The story opens with a veteran bee-keeper called Heatherington recounting a lengthy and rather rambling story about the discovery of a corpse. It seems as though the weight of detail is excessive, but in fact Vivian cunningly conveys some very important information in the first chapter.

An unpleasant philanderer and chancer called Batley has been murdered, and suspicion shifts around a small group of suspects. There is a lot of discussion about bees and their habits and care - Vivian himself was a keen bee-keeper - and although the story slows down after a bright start, it is well-written and well-constructed. And it sounds glib to say that there is a sting in the tail at the end of the novel, but it's true. The finale is unexpectedly dark and quite memorable. All in all, I was pleasantly surprised by the quality of this novel, and I'm very glad I bought it.