The Locked Cabin

I've edited more than my fair share of anthologies - around forty - but there are two British anthologists who were putting together fascinating crime collections long before I started and who continue to do excellent work in the field. They are Mike Ashley and Maxim Jakubowski, two men whose remarkably wide knowledge of popular fiction extends far beyond the crime genre. Both of them have both been kind enough, over the years, to include occasional stories of mine in their books.

My latest short story is "The Locked Cabin", and it kicks off Maxim's new anthology, The Book of Extraordinary Impossible Crimes and Puzzling Deaths, published by Mango. The book is another entry in a series of collections Maxim has been putting together, which also includes a set of Extraordinary Historical Mysteries, to which I contributed "The Sound of Secrecy".

There's no doubt where the inspiration for this particular story came from. When I was wandering around the Queen Mary 2 last year, I read with great interest the wall panels detailing the illustrious history of the original Queen Mary, and one particular anecdote from the 30s sparked an idea in my mind. When I went on a second crossing on the ship, I gave the idea further thought and realised that it could make an interesting variation on the concept of the locked room mystery. So, not an entirely typical locked room riddle by any means, but a spin on the idea that appealed to me. When I arrived back in Britain, I set about writing the story.

There are some very interesting contributors to this volume, including a number of good friends of mine such as Christine Poulson, Amy Myers, Jane Finnis, Len Tyler, and Paul Charles, all of whom have a track record of successful short story writing. In recent times, I've also got to know David Quantick, who has enjoyed great success in TV with shows like The Thick of It and is now pursuing a long-standing interest in crime fiction. There's a good deal of variety in this book - it's by no means a conventional collection of stories in the John Dickson Carr vein - and quite a bit of experimentation. I'm glad to be part of it.

The Adventures of Moriarty - edited by Maxim Jakubowski

Tomorrow sees the publication of a new, nicely packaged, and very substantial collection of stories edited by Maxim Jakubowski. Its full title is The Mammoth Book of the Adventures of Moriarty, and its tag line "The Secret Life of Sherlock Holmes' Nemesis". The book is published by Robinson, whose Mammoth series has proved so popular over the years.

As a lifelong fan of Conan Doyle, Sherlock and Moriarty, I'm pleased to say that I have a story in this book, and in a way, it brings my ventures into Sherlockiana full circle. Back in 1997, Robinson published a collection edited by Mike Ashley, who is, like Maxim, a real expert as well as an industrious compiler of first-rate anthologies. The Mammoth Book of the New Adventures of Sherlock Holmes included my very first Sherlockian pastiche, "The Case of the Suicidal Lawyer".

Writing that first story gave me a taste for further occasional ventures into Sherlockiana, and led ultimately to my producing  The New Mysteries of Sherlock Holmes,
an ebook collection of six Sherlock stories with various bonus items which is available on various Amazon sites, in the UK, US, and elsewhere. I've been gratified that this collection has sold well since it came out last year, and continues to do so.

Writing a story focusing on Moriarty represented a slight change of tack, of course. I had a lot of fun writing "The Case of the Choleric Cotton Broker", and it touches on two famous real life criminal cases. I rather feel that it's the best of my pastiches to date, and I'll be interested to see the reaction to it. In the meantime, I'm really looking forward to diving into Maxim's anthology. Fellow contributors include Len Tyler, Michael Gregoriou, Alison Joseph, Jurgen Ehlers, Barbara Nadel, Cilla Masters, Christine Poulson and...well, the list goes on. Some great reading lies ahead.

The British Library and Classic Crime

The British Library is a wonderful institution, but it's only in recent times that I've found any time at all even to begin to explore its treasures. I really enjoyed its exhibition earlier this year about the history of crime fiction, and since then I've been keeping an eye on their publication list.

One venture that fascinates me is their decision to publish some classic crime titles. The Notting Hill Mystery, first published as an eight part serial in 1862-3 is generally regarded as the first full-length detective novel (Poe, of course, had written detective short stories a couple of decades earlier) and the British Library's nicely produced edition boasts an intro by Mike Ashley. I've never actually met Mike, but I've contributed numerous short stories to anthologies he's edited. He's not only a very good editor but also extremely knowledgeable about the history of crime fiction.

The Female Detective by Andrew Forrester introduces the first female detective, and the Library's edition includes not only another intro by Mike Ashley but also a short preface by Alexander McCall Smith. Mike again introduces Revelations of a Lady Detective, by Williams Stephen Hayward.

More interesting titles are in the pipeline. I'm especially intrigued by The Santa Klaus Murder, a Golden Age mystery by Mavis Doriel Hay, which first appeared in 1936. I must admit I'd never heard of either book or author, and look forward to its arrival on the shelves in November. I very much hope that the British Library will continue to make available rare novels of this kind, and I do like to think that this is yet another illustration of an upsurge of interest in the once-maligned detective puzzles of the Golden Age. Perhaps their time has come again!.

Fingerprints

When Fiona commented on my blog post about Colin Evans’ biography of Sir Bernard Spilsbury about the fascination of forensics, she suggested that I write a blog post about fingerprints. And in the spirit of interactivity and responding positively and enthusiastically to comments, I thought – good idea, I shall do just that!

Fiona mentioned a personal connection with the history of fingerprints – she knew, in her youth, the daughter of Sir Edward Henry, who developed a classification system for fingerprints. What Fiona won’t have known is that, quite a few years ago, I mentioned Sir Edward in a story of mine. In fact, it was the very first Sherlock Holmes pastiche that I had published – ‘The Case of the Suicidal Lawyer’, which appeared in an anthology edited by Mike Ashley. Fingerprints only play a minor part in the story, but it’s a tale that I enjoyed writing so much that I’ve subsequently written several further Sherlockian pastiches. And I’ve been asked to write one or two more recently, but to my regret, work commitments have prevented me from doing so. I hope to get back to Sherlock, and perhaps the early days of forensics, before too long.

There are plenty of good books that deal with fingerprint evidence. One to which I refer from time to time is by Ian K. Pepper, Crime Scene Investigation: Methods and Procedures. The book covers a wide range of topics, and the chapter on fingerprints is especially useful. Ian, who lectures on the subject, is married to Helen Pepper, who also has great experience in forensics, and who has helped me on technical issues when writing a couple of my Lake District Mysteries.

One of the pleasures of attending CWA conferences, incidentally, is the opportunity to learn more about forensics and crime investigation. Over the years, we have had many interesting sessions, including one about fingerprints. And the photo was taken a few years back, at a conference at Appleby in Cumbria (lovely town, by the way). Ian Pepper is in the picture, explaining things to Russell James and me. That was the day I bought Ian’s book, and I’m glad I did.

Crime and Abergavenny

Back in 1997, Mike Ashley invited me to contribute a Sherlock Holmes story to The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures. The idea was to find inspiration in the cases that Dr Watson mentions in passing, and I chose as my source a fleeting reference to ‘the Abergavenny Murders’. However, my story (which I enjoyed writing so much that it prompted me to write several other Sherlockian pastiches over the years) was not set in Abergavenny – in fact, I used Abergavenny as a surname.

This was partly because I’d never been to Abergavenny and didn’t have any idea what the town is like. This past week-end, I finally had the chance to visit the place, because it was the setting for the CWA conference from Friday to Sunday. Each day was blessed with gorgeous weather in South Wales, and the conference was hugely enjoyable. And I must say how much I liked Abergavenny and its environs. Quite delightful.

The conference kicked off on Friday afternoon with a reception at Abergavenny Castle, hosted by the Mayor. The photos were taken at the reception. In his interesting speech, the Mayor made reference to a notable crime writer of the past who was born in Abergavenny, some of whose books were successfully filmed. Quiz question - any idea who this might be?

On Saturday, we looked round the Museum which is in the Castle grounds. There was no mention of the crime writer that I could find, but plenty of coverage of a notable writer of macabre stories who was born not too far away. I’ll reveal both writers' names in forthcoming blog posts!

Jonathan Creek and David Renwick

It’s hard to believe, but Jonathan Creek first aired as long ago as 1997. I watched that initial episode, and soon the series took over from Taggart as my favourite television crime show. The way in which classic ‘impossible crime’ plots were blended with humour and contemporary characterisation struck me as quite splendid.

And now there is to be a new episode, fifteen months after the last (The Grinning Man, which I thought was excellent.)  The Judas Tree is to be screened tomorrow, and I shall do a review. The only question is whether my expectations are so high that I’m likely to be disappointed. I hope not.

Jonathan Creek was created by David Renwick, who is also celebrated as the writer of One Foot in the Grave, and the creator of that grumpiest of old men, Victor (‘I don’t believe it!’) Meldrew. There are occasional references to detective fiction in One Foot in the Grave, and Renwick’s other works include some adaptations for Agatha Christie’s Poirot.

I’ve never met David Renwick, and the only slight link between us is that he wrote the introduction to Mike Ashley’s collection, The Mammoth Book of Locked-Room Mysteries and Impossible Crimes, in which my story ‘Waiting for Godstow’ appeared. ‘Waiting for Godstow’ was an enormously enjoyable story to write, and I’m rather sorry that it’s never attracted as much attention as some of my other work.

Here’s the closing sentence of that Renwick intro: ‘Like the spectral assassin who has miraculously vanished from the scene of the crime it’s comforting occasionally to give reality the slip and retreat into the more fantastical world of our imagination’.

 Couldn’t agree more!

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.

The Suicidal Lawyer and CFG

Two new editions, British and American, of a single book have landed on my doormat, and it’s a book of which I have very fond memories. It’s called The Mammoth Book of New Sherlock Holmes Adventures, and it’s edited by that prolific and accomplished anthologist, Mike Ashley. The book includes the very first Sherlockian pastiche I ever wrote. ‘The Case of the Suicidal Lawyer’.

I was startled to realise that the book originally appeared as long ago as 1997 – how time flies. Mike’s idea was to come up with a comprehensive timeline for Sherlock’s life, and to include contributions that featured on those cases mentioned, tantalisingly, in passing by Dr Watson.

I chose Watson’s mention of ‘the Abergavenny murders’ in ‘The Priory School’, although I decided to give that reference a twist. And, in a dark sort of way, the title I thought up rather amused me – perhaps I was feeling over-worked at the time!

Over the years, this has been one of the most successful short stories I’ve ever written. Duly encouraged, I’ve followed up with a number of other Sherlockian pastiches, for magazines such as ‘The Strand’ and they are always fun to write. As for Mike Ashley, I’ve never met him, but we correspond by email and he’s invited me to contribute to quite a number of his collections. He is a very good editor indeed.

Finally, a quick mention of ‘Crime Fiction Gazette’, a forthcoming crime fanzine to be put together by Paul Moy. Again, I haven’t met Paul in the flesh, but I’ve bought various books from him and he’s very knowledgeable about traditional detective fiction. Worth watching out for.

Dickensian Crime

I’ve received my copy of a chunky short story collection, The Mammoth Book of Dickensian Whodunits, edited by the amazingly prolific Mike Ashley. I contributed a story, ‘The Mystery of Canute Villa’, in which Dickens joins Elizabeth Gaskell in investigating a mystery in Knutsford, aka Cranford.

I was born in Knutsford and thought it would be fun to set a story in the town. It’s a fascinating and historic place, well worth a visit, not only for the Gaskell associations, but also because of the weird and intriguing Italianate architecture of some of the buildings.

As for the Dickensian Whodunits, there’s some great stuff in there from authors I admire, including Robert Barnard, Gillian Linscott and Kate Ellis. I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the stories.

Oddly enough, this is the second Dickensian collection to include a story of mine. A few years ago, Anne Perry put together Death by Dickens. That time I teamed Dickens up with Wilkie Collins in ‘The House of the Red Candle’. This was a sort of locked room/impossible crime story which later made it into Maxim Jakubowski’s Best British Mysteries.

One of the attractions of writing short stories to an editor’s theme is that you can quickly work out a framework. With a historical mystery, it’s then a matter of capturing the essence of the period, as well as of the characters. More about this another day.