Patrick Quentin and The Follower - guest blog by Christopher Greaves

One of the joys of blogging is that it brings you into contact with many people you wouldn't otherwise get to know. I was contacted a while ago by Christopher Greaves, who shares my enthusiasm for Patrick Quentin, and the outcome of our email correspondence is that he's written a guest blog post which I'm happy to include today. Christopher is also the author of The Past is Never Closed

"It’s good to see the Patrick Quentin/Q. Patrick/Jonathan Stagge team receiving more attention.  On the whole, it seems to be the earlier, more Golden Age books that are being read and reviewed, but for my money it’s the later Patrick Quentins - the ones written solely by Hugh Wheeler - that are really something special.  The earlier books tend to be more fanciful, less plausible; the later ones marry the most wonderfully skilful plotting with a greater realism. 

The shift from the earlier to the later style is clearly shown in one of the last of the Hugh Wheeler - Richard Webb collaborations, Jonathan Stagge’s The Three Fears (1949).  The feud which runs throughout the book between the two leading actresses, Daphne Winters and Lucy Milliken, is described with a good deal of sophisticated wit and almost amounts to a comedy of manners (the theme of the diva would be taken up again in Wheeler’s Suspicious Circumstances), but the idea that someone as tough as the ‘Divine Daphne’ would be haunted by ‘three fears’ - of death by poison, claustrophobia and fire - just doesn’t make sense, it belongs to an altogether more quirky, melodramatic way of writing, as does the casual, rather cynical handling of the murder of one of Daphne’s acolytes.  In other words, the book suffers by falling between two stools.

Patrick Quentin’s The Follower from the following year (1950) is a much better book and paves the way for Hugh Wheeler’s solo efforts, written after Richard Webb had dropped out of the partnership.  Actually, it wouldn’t surprise me if The Follower wasn’t a Wheeler-only book: we see here the same ability to reveal character through dialogue and the same interest in the protagonist’s emotional life that we find in the later volumes, almost all of which have in common the fact that there is an emotional problem as well as a murder mystery to be solved.  Where it differs from Fatal Woman, The Man with Two Wives, and the rest of them, is that it is a thriller rather than a whodunit.

The set-up is especially good.  Mark Liddon, a young, just-married engineer, returns to New York from a spell of work in Venezuela in order to be back with his wife Ellie in time for Christmas.  But ditzy, poor-little-rich-girl Ellie isn’t there.  Instead, Mark finds the dead body of one of her former admirers, shot through the heart.  He doesn’t know how it happened but his one inclination is to find and protect his wife, so he hides the body and manages, by a clever piece of detective work, to get a lead as to where she might have gone.  The action now shifts to Mexico - as with two slightly earlier Quentins, Puzzle for Pilgrims and Run to Death.  Mark learns that his wife has bought a ticket for a bullfight - yet when he gets to the stadium, the woman who shows up using his wife’s name isn’t Ellie at all but a complete stranger.  Having just read Helen McCloy’s The Impostor, I can report that the imposture theme is handled in a much more interesting, suspenseful way by Quentin here.  Mark does find Ellie, only to lose her again…until the denouement, when everything is finally explained.  It’s quite a long explanation, but Quentin sustains our interest by leaving a key element of the emotional part of the problem unresolved until the penultimate page.  Perhaps the showdown scene lacks real menace and it’s arguable that too much information is held back until the end, but the gripping narrative, touches of humour, occasional splashes of local colour, and elements of romance and mystery combine to make The Follower a fine thriller with a satisfying conclusion."

Thanks. Christopher!

 

Forgotten Book - The Green-Eyed Monster

Patrick Quentin was one of the best American detective novelists of the 20th century. The name conceals a complex web of identities - two men, two women, and a wide range of books published across more than 30 years. I believe Quentin was the favourite American writer of Anthony Berkeley, who was no mean judge, and at one time his books were very popular. The Green-Eyed Monster, written by Hugh Wheeler alone, and published in 1960, was one of the very last Quentins, and it's my Forgotten Book for today.

The story is told by Andrew Johnson, who is haunted by the fact that his beautiful wife Maureen may be being unfaithful to him. His fears are heightened by anonymous letters which suggest he is the only one in New York who does not know what she is like When she is found murdered, Andrew is one of the suspects. To prove his innocence, he has to find who really did kill Maureen, and why.

There are plenty of possible culprits. His younger brother Ned is charming but unreliable. And what about his mother's latest husband, Lem? The list of candidates keeps growing as the plot twists and twists again. Amusingly, the possible killers include a Mrs Margaret Thatcher...As with all books by Quentin, its brevity and pace are assets, and the solution is hard to predict.

Having said all of that, I wouldn't rate this book as a classic. "Highly competent" is closer to the mark. You can tell that Wheeler is an accomplished wordsmith, and he does pay attention to characterisation. But the snag, for me,was that I found most of the characters rather irksome, and Andrew's weakness (as I saw it) somewhat annoying. As a result, I didn't care as much as I should have done about the mystery, or about the fate of the odious Maureen. A good piece of craftsmanship, this one, but there are better Quentins out there.

Forgotten Book - Puzzle for Fiends

Patrick Quentin was one of the Forgotten Authors featured at  Crimefest last week, and Quentin, alias Q. Patrick, alias Jonathan Stagge, is one of the most interesting of all pseudonymous American crime writers, not least because, in total, those names concealed not just one identity, but four. The most notable were Richard Webb and Hugh Wheeler. They started a series under the Quentin name featuring Peter Duluth, and my Forgotten Book for today, Puzzle for Fiends, a Duluth story.

The premise is super. After a brief prologue in which Peter waves off his new wife Iris at an airfield, the picture transforms when he wakes up after an accident, suffering from amnesia. He is surrounded by people who claim to be family members or associates and who say that he is the wealthy Gordon Renton Friend the Third. Whilst it's some consolation that his newly found wife, mother and sister are all very beautiful, he finds himself trapped in a nightmarish situation, from which escape seems impossible.

Of course, variations on this theme have often been used in mysteries - the Liam Neeson film Unknown is an excellent recent example. But Quentin handles it well, and it's no surprise that this book has been highly regarded, not least by Julian Symons. There are plenty of plot twists along the way - you can always rely on the PQ (or QP) franchise for tantalising mysteries.

And yet. I felt there were some unsatisfactory features of the second half of the story which meant that I wouldn't regard it as a classic, much as it entertained me. There is a puritanical cult called the Aurora League which features heavily in the plot, and although it is satirically and wittily described, I felt that its sheer absurdity militated against suspense. As Cornell Woolrich showed in nightmare-scenario books like Phantom Lady, the way to handle a story like this is to maintain tension throughout, and Puzzle for Fiends didn't quite manage this. All the same, it remains a lively and efficient thriller, still worth reading.

Forgotten Book - Murder at Cambridge

Murder at the 'Varsity, written by Q. Patrick, and first published in 1933, is also known as Murder at Cambridge. And it has recently been republished under that latter title by that splendid small press, Ostara, in its attractively produced Cambridge Crime series. It's a very welcome reissue, but the fact that the story is set in Cambridge, England, might raise an eyebrow. For was not Q. Patrick (later, Patrick Quentin) an American writer?

The answer is no, not in this particular case. The Patrick/Quentin names concealed, over the years, the identities of no fewer than four different writers, two men and two women. As I understand it, this particular book is the only one that was written by Richard Webb alone. And Webb was an Englishman, and was an undergraduate at Cambridge before moving to the US. It is clear from reading the book that he had a close understanding of Cambridge university life - there is a whiff of authenticity that does not suggest research from a distance.

The story is a pretty good one, too. The narrator, Hilary Fenton, is a native of Philadelphia (where Webb worked after emigrating) and a fellow student who is murdered comes from South Africa (where Webb had worked before moving to the US.) Fenton's attempts to get involved in the sleuthing are compromised by the fact that he has fallen in love with a pretty student who was lurking around the murder scene. Rather foolishly, he does not tell the police all he knows about the victim, and complications ensue.

I thought I'd solved the puzzle, but no - the author had a neat twist up his sleeve. The culprit was genuinely unexpected, and overall I thought Webb got away rather well with some rather unlikely plot manoeuvres. He was a clever writer, as was the better known Hugh Wheeler,with whom he soon began to collaborate. This solo effort does, however, show that Webb was an accomplished detective novelist in his own right. This is an entertaining Golden Age story, on a par with the better known books set in Oxford during the same era.

Forgotten Book - The Wife of Ronald Sheldon

Another book by Patrick Quentin for today's Forgotten Book. This time, it's The Wife of Ronald Sheldon, also known as My Son, the Murderer - an inferior title for at least two reasons.) It was first published in 1954, by which time Quentin had ceased to be a collaboration - this one was written by Hugh Wheeler alone. There is an interesting discussion about the Quentin/ Q Patrick/Jonathan Stagge writers (over the years, there were four of them) on the Golden Age Detection forum. Apparently Wheeler, and perhaps the others, were gay, and although I'm not sure it's a gay sub-text, the relationship between the narrator, Jake Duluth and his business partner Ronnie Sheldon is central to this story.

Jake and Ronnie are, however, portrayed as resolutely heterosexual, and as it turns out, that is the key to past events which have an impact on the storyline. They run a publishing firm, and Ronnie has a knack of spotting literary geniuses. Ronnie is a rich dilettante, Jake was recently widowed when his wife inexplicably committed suicide, leaving him to bring up Bill, a moody and resentful young man who is also highly impetuous (and rather irritating, I felt.)

Ronnie causes a sensation when he returns from Europe to the States with a new, 19 year old wife, Jean, and her father Basil, his wife Norah, and his admirer, Lady Phyllis Brent. Wheeler was English by birth, but he is merciless in his portrayal of the Lacey mob. Other than Norah, they are quite appalling in various ways. And things go from bad to worse when Jean and Bill fall for each other. When Ronnie is found murdered, Bill is the prime suspect of Lieutenant Barnes (who seems indistinguishable from Quentin's usual cop, Lieutenant Trant.)

Jake tries to find the truth, assisted by brother Peter and his wife Iris, who appeared n several of the earlier Quentin books. The plot is soundly constructed, although I found the solution rather anti-climactic. I'm a great admirer of Quentin, but I felt this wasn't one of his best, in part because most of the characters are so annoying.Nor was I entirely convinced by the way Ronnie's character was developed. All in all, a decent story idea, competently executed, but lacking brilliance.

Forgotten Book - The Grindle Nightmare

My Forgotten Book today is The Grindle Nightmare, by Quentin Patrick, and I have to thank John Norris of Pretty Sinister Books for not only calling it to my attention, but also supplying me with a copy. Very kind of him, and, I must say, typical of the kindness which, I have found, abounds among crime bloggers and fans.

The book was first published in 1935, and was one of two books which Richard Wilson Webb, an Englishman born (like Robert Barnard) in the Essex town of Burnham, and an American journalist, Mary Louise Aswell, wrote under the pseudonym (used almost interchangeably with the name Q.Patrick – the name Patrick Quentin was used extensively in later years). Webb had earlier written with another woman, Martha Mott Kelley, but his major collaborator was Hugh Wheeler, another Englishman who eventually became famous for writing the book of musicals such as A Little Night Music.

The setting is a rather remote New England valley called Grindle, and a helpful map is supplied in true Golden Age tradition. But Grindle isn’t St Mary Mead, but a place where dark and disturbing things are happening. Animals are being mistreated, and then a young girl disappears. The narrator is a young scientist, Dr Doug Swanson, who shares his home with a fellow doctor; their work involves vivisection. Suffice to say that nobody in their right mind would call this book “cosy”. It is very dark by any standards, but especially for the time when it was written. Not one for the faint-hearted, that’s for sure.

The plot is complicated, and a genuine whodunit puzzle is supplied. Mention is made of a very famous real life American murder case, which may have been a source of some inspiration for the device at the heart of the narrative. But this is a book unlike any others of its period that I have read – and it really is memorable. Short, snappy, chilling and clever, it deserves to be much better known.