Forgotten Book - The Rynox Mystery

Philip Macdonald was one of the breezy entertainers of the Golden Age, an author with a flair for coming up with enticing scenarios. The republication of The Rynox Mystery in the Detective Story Club reprint series gives present day readers a chance to appreciate one of his most appealing set-ups. The book begins with an epilogue, a device used in other crime novels (for instance C. Daly King's Obelists Fly High). But I can't think right now of an example that predates this one, from 1930.

In the epilogue, two large and heavy sacks are delivered to the offices of an insurance company. When the unexpected delivery is opened, it turns out that the sacks contain more than a quarter of a million pounds. A lot of money today, never mind in 1930. What's the meaning of it? We go back in time to find out, and Macdonald presents his chapters as "reels"; no wonder he later moved to Hollywood.
This is a light thriller rather than a whodunit, and it's short and snappy if at times a little too whimsical.

The puzzle concerns the misadventures of a company called Rynox, and the demise of its presiding genius. The identity of the killer appears obvious, but the police struggle to identify him. What is going on? Well, I think most astute readers will figure out the answer, but not to worry. It's not a bad story, and this edition benefits from an intro written by Macdonald himself in the 60s, which I found interesting. He explains that he was aiming to satirise a number of people and institutions, though I'm afraid some of the point of the satire has been lost due to the passage of time.

Another extremely pleasing touch, given that the novel is a short one, is that Harper Collins have added value by including the one and only short story to feature Macdonald's Great Detective, Colonel Anthony Gethryn (who doesn't feature in the novel). The story is called "The Wood-for-the-Trees", and it's a serial killer mystery, with a plot device that crime fans will associate with a rather famous novel.

Forgotten Book - The Link

The Link is an Anthony Gethryn novel dating from 1930, and written by Philip Macdonald. I've mentioned my enthusiasm for Macdonald several times on this blog, but this book is one I first read in my twenties, and found disappointing. I decided to give it another go, to see whether my earlier judgment had been too harsh.

Macdonald liked to ring the changes in his novels,and here he gives Colonel Gethryn a "Watson" figure, a vet called Michael Lawless, who narrates the story. (Lawless was obviously a name that appealed to Macdonald: one of his pen-names was Anthony Lawless). Lawless is hopelessly in love with the young and charming wife of a deeply unpleasant "beer baronet" called Grenville who has spent several years in America. An unexplained mystery of this book is why she was ever stupid enough to marry such an odious chap. Lawless' passion seems destined,however, to remain unrequited.

At a lunch party hosted by Grenville, Lawless meets Gethryn, and the two men join forces shortly afterwards, following the murder of Grenville. He has been shot, and his body has been moved at least once. The local publican, Dinwater, is arrested - he had been Grenville's batman, but the two men had recently fallen out. Gethryn is not, however, convinced of his guilt and, with Lawless' help, sets out to discover whodunit.

This book has its admirers, but when I first read it, I felt that its supposed ingenuity came to nothing, because the crucial red herring was emphasised with such tedious insistence that one was bound to be sceptical about it. The plot trick involves a type of deception that Agatha Christie deployed, but with much greater finesse.

Second time around, I am afraid that I found myself again irritated by the lack of subtlety in the story's construction and also by the feebleness of the American aspects of the story. Two detailed appendices set out the intricate minutiae of the murder plot, but by that stage, alas,I was past caring. Macdonald was trying to be original, an aim in which he sometimes enjoyed real success, but this book, despite a few pleasing touches, is one of his weakest efforts.,  

Forgotten Book - The Rasp

The Rasp, my Forgotten Book for today, was the first crime novel published by Philip MacDonald solo and under his own name (he'd previously co-written two books with his father). It appeared in 1924, when he was still in his early twenties, and it introduced Colonel Anthony Gethryn, who was to become one of the more popular "great detectives" of the Golden Age.

The first thing to say about this book is that it's a very assured performance, especially considering the youth and inexperience of its author. Yes, there are flaws (the explanation of the puzzle at the end is excessively long, for instance, and the killer's insanity is not adequately foreshadowed) but it really is an excellent example of the breezy Golden Age whodunit. MacDonald's writing is invariably energetic - in fact, in some books he produced later, it seems rushed - and he carries his readers along, so that we don't worry too much about the improbabilities of the plot.

The book is sometimes described as a "locked room mystery", because John Hoode, a cabinet minister, is found dead in his locked study; however, there is an open window, so this is by no means an "impossible crime". It's a tricky one to solve, nonetheless, and although the police arrest someone, Gethryn becomes convinced that the man is innocent, and has been framed.

I've admired MacDonald ever since reading a reprint of Gethryn's second case, The White Crow, in my teens, and I really enjoyed this whodunit. I have a facsimile dust jacket of the first edition, and I also love the publishers' blurb: " all the subsidiary characters, especially the ladies, usually the weak spot in detective fiction are drawn with humour and insight". They don't write blurbs like that any more! Nor do they write books quite like The Rasp any more. But if you like Golden Age fiction, with all its strengths and limitations, there is every chance you'll like this one.

Forgotten Book - The Noose

My forgotten book for today is one of Philip MacDonald's stories about Colonel Anthony Gethryn. The Noose is notable as the novel that launched the legendary Collins Crime Club in 1930, by which time MacDonald was establishing himself as one of the most entertaining detective novelists to have emerged since the First World War - a conflict of which Gethryn was a veteran. The war also proves to be central to the murder mystery plot.

Gethryn is summoned back to England from Spain by his wife Lucia. She has been persuaded by a striking woman that the woman's husband (whose name, Bronson, has connotations today that nobody would have dreamed of in 1930) is innocent of the murder of which he has been convicted. Unfortunately, an appeal has failed and the Home Secretary is not inclined to show clemency So Bronson will hang in five days' time unless someone else can be shown to be guilty. Yep, this is a classic clock-race story.

Lucia's intuition tells her to believe Mrs Bronson that her husband is innocent. Gethryn's intuition - and it's no more than that - points him in the same direction. Such is his reputation,as a Great Detective that his pals at Scotland Yard are by no  means unsympathetic. One of them actually takes some holiday (his first in two years) in order to lend a hand. What it is to have friends in high places...

This is a lively story with a good solution, and it deserves the praise that Harry Keating heaped on it when he introduced a reprint in the "Disappearing Detectives" series in the mid-Eighties. I agree with Harry that MacDonald wrote enjoyable books, even if their quality was admittedly uneven. This one has a sound plot, but its greatest merit is the fast-paced narrative style and crisp writing. MacDonald tended to favour short, snappy sentences, and there's usually a sense of energy in his books, as there is in this one. He can create vivid scenes - as when Gethryn comes face to face with the murderer- and it's no surprise that, not long after this book first appeared, he went on to enjoy success in Hollywood. Re-reading this one revived my enthusiasm for Gethryn, and I'll be covering at least one more of his cases in this blog before long.

Forgotten Book - The Wraith

Philip Macdonald was one of the major British crime writers of the Golden Age, and given that he also enjoyed much success as a Hollywood screenwriter, it is surprising to me that his work is not discussed more extensively. I've always liked his work, while recognising that his inventiveness was matched by a certain haste and carelessness that sometimes meant his books fell short of the high standards of which he was capable. Today's Forgotten Book, The Wraith, is an example of both his gifts and his shortcomings.

The book was published in 1931, and my paperback reprint makes the very bold claim that "Colonel Anthony Gethryn is no longer merely an extremely engaging character, he has become a permanent figure in crime fiction." Well, perhaps not, but he was one of the more appealing Golden Age detectives in my opinion. Here he tells the story himself, years after the events took place. It's a good device, and Macdonald handles it pretty well.

The setting is a small Fenland village in the aftermath of the Great War. Gethryn is staying there, and is invited to dinner at the local mansion. His host is duly murdered, and there is, as usual, a small circle of potential suspects, one of them rather wraith-like. The set-up is excellent, and there is an excellent twist, which is the most effective part of the story and was probably the idea that sparked the novel.

The downside is that there are too few suspects, and they are too thinly characterised. For this book to have become a classic, Macdonald would have needed to put more effort into building up the tension and background as well as the people of High Fen. As it is, The Wraith feels, in parts, almost as insubstantial as that eponymous ghostly figure. But it's a reminder of Macdonald's talents, and a book which certainly benefits from his crisp and readable style. And many years later, it was referenced by Desmond Cory in an even more intriguing book, Bennett.