Forgotten Book - For Murder Will Speak

J. J. Connington was a leading light of British Golden Age detective fiction, although in the post-war era, his reputation declined and until recently, most of his books were hard to find.. He was an interesting writer, and although some aspects of his work are very dated, he wrote a number of unusual novels with ingenious plots, and was a strong believer in 'playing fair' with his readers. He is the author of today's Forgotten Book, For Murder Will Speak, which was originally published in 1938.

This was the novel he wrote immediately after the very disappointing Truth Comes Limping, and my expectations were none too high. There's a widespread view that his best work was done earlier in his career,before ill-health began to dog him. But as with The Four Defences, I felt that this book had much to commend it. And it features poison pen letters, a subject dealt with very enjoyably in recent posts on the admirable Clothes in Books blog.

The viewpoint to begin with is that of a businessman called Hyson, a nasty piece of work who messes about with female subordinates as well as with the firm's finances. It soon becomes clear that he is one of those Golden Age characters who is destined for an unpleasant end, but the structure of the book is unusual, and although a couple of deaths occur, it's not clear whether either or both of them are murders. Connington's usual detective, Sir Clinton Driffield, eventually comes into the story and sets about untangling a complicated web.

As so often with Connington, the technical complications and focus on fair play mean that it's not terribly difficult to figure out who is sending the poisoned pen letters, or who is responsible (directly or indirectly) for Hyson's death. But I found the story engaging and readable, even though I was rather taken aback by one of the plot strands (which to quote a review on the GAdetection site involves "a woman whose nymphomania has been corrected through a glandular adjustment".). All a bit odd, and reflecting Connington's attitudes, which were not exactly modern or progressive. As a result, the book ranks as something of a curiosity - but to my mind, an under-rated one.

Forgotten Book - The Ha-Ha Case

My Forgotten Book for today is another from the prolific Golden Age writer J.J. Connington. Its title in the UK was The Ha-Ha Case, but in the US it was known as The Brandon Case. Presumably the change was because ha-has were thought to be unfamiliar to American readers, but it's a pity, because The Ha-Ha Case strikes me as a rather nice title. And I love the fact that Chapter 5 is called "The Ha-Ha of Death"!

Once I'd finished the book, it was fairly clear to me how Connington set about writing it. He'd come across an arcane snippet of English law, and used that as a basis for his plot (as he did in at least one other novel I've covered in this blog). He then used his knowledge of ballistics, forgery and medical science to furnish the key plot trimmings.

These ingredients are very good. Not only are they pleasing, they are relatively unusual. The snag is that here (as compared, for instance, to the superior The Sweepstake Murders) Connington allowed plot contrivance to dominate the book. As a result it is rather awkward in construction, and the trickery used to disguised the surprise solution is not entirely satisfying. These are significant criticisms, yet the flaws did not destroy my enjoyment, because I find Connington's ambitious and sometimes unorthodox approach to be rather admirable. He was trying to do something different, yet play fair with the reader, and these are excellent aims for a writer of traditional mysteries.

Jim Brandon is concerned that his younger brother, Johnnie, is being exploited by his tutor, someone who is both rascally and idealistic (an uneasy combination, and I didn't find the tutor's characterisation too convincing). When a mysterious death occurs, the investigation is complicated by the arrival on the crime scene of an unexpected third party, who is introduced into the story in a sardonic  and politically incorrect way. An ambitious police inspector struggles to find the truth, but in the end, Sir Clinton Driffield rides to the rescue, in his usual smart and sardonic way. 

Forgotten Book - The Sweepstake Murders

J.J. Connington, author of my latest Forgotten Book, 1931's The Sweepstake Murders, was a major figure of the Golden Age and this excellent novel displays his talents at full stretch. Wendover, a country squire who regularly plays Watson to Sir Clinton Driffield's Holmes, takes centre stage here, as member of a nine-man syndicate which wins a sweepstake ticket that proves to be worth almost a quarter of a million pounds.

The death in an air crash of one member leads to litigation from his estate which delays payment of the winnings. The survivors agree that the money should be shared out between those who are alive at the date of the pay-out. This is, needless to say, remarkably unwise, since it provides a compelling motive for someone to start killing off syndicate members.

One member dies - seemingly by accident, and that is the inquest verdict - afte falling down a cliff at the nicely named Hell's Gape. (I'm sure this fascinating geographic feature must have been based on a real place - does any reader have any ideas where it might be? The Chasms on the Isle of Man is the only similar spot I know.) Then another man dies - and again, it seems to be an accident, but we know better, don't we?This is a clever and gripping "who will be next?" whodunit of great complexity, with countless red herrings and gimmicks including faked photographic evidence and forged letters.

I really enjoyed this one, and I'd rate it as probably the best Connington I've read. Because he beleived in "fair play" plotting, he could on occasion be a rather plodding writer, but here the story is packed with incidents and characters, and it does not become bogged down in a morass of detail. The police inspector who does most of the detection needs to investigate photorgraphic and typewritten evidence - in a nice touch, which I very much liked, the culprit's approach to punctuation also plays a part in the unmasking. Strongly recommended for Golden Age fans.

Forgotten Book - The Castleford Conundrum

When a crime writer chances upon a terrific idea for a mystery story, it’s a great feeling. It may be a fresh idea about character, say, or relationships. During the Golden Age of detective fiction, it was often a novel method of murder. But whatever the idea may be, however marvellous it may seem, one needs to keep it under control. For an idea that gets out of hand can create fundamental problems, for instance with credibility.

This is my reservation about an interesting, but in my opinion significantly flawed, novel by J. J. Connington, The Castleford Conundrum, which is my choice for today’s Forgotten Book. I’m pretty sure that Connington came up with a particular plot twist, neatly derived from legal precedents, and wove his story around it. Fair enough – in fact, more than 20 years later, another notable writer, Cyril Hare would make use of a very similar idea. But here, at least, I think Connington tested the suspension of disbelief to breaking point.

In many ways, though, this is a typical whodunit of the traditional type. As in so many books written in the Thirties (this one was first published in 1932), the murder victim is a disagreeable and rich individual, who unwisely allows it to be known that she is planning to change her will. Since almost all members of her family are equally unappealing, there is no shortage of suspects when she is found dead. But it is only when Sir Clinton Driffield makes a belated appearance that events start motoring to a conclusion.

Pleasingly, this book has benefited from a recent reprint by Coachwhip Publications, and it includes a welcome and characteristically informative introduction by Curtis Evans. I am a Connington fan, although I’m afraid I don’t rate this book as highly as Curt. The long trudge towards a foreseeable outcome (once you have figured out that central plot gimmick, which I did quite early on) is rather dreary. The book is an example of Connington’s admirable willingness to ring the changes in his plotting, and the book retains a historical interest, at the very least.  But I was left wondering this – why on earth did the killer go to so much bother?  

Forgotten Book - A Minor Operation

My Forgotten Book for today is a 1937 story from the pen of J.J.Connington. A Minor Operation features his usual Holmes-Watson pairing, Sir Clinton Driffiled and Squire Wendover, but they don’t make an appearance until the scene has been set in a series of chapters featuring the misadventures of the Adeney family.

Nicholas Adeney has been released from prison. He worked in the family business with the husband of his sister, Hazel Deerhurst. Deerhurst was a rogue who, having wrecked the Adeney family business through fraud, is also just about to leave prison. Hazel makes it clear to Nicholas that she is determined to end the marriage – which he is very pleased about. But they realise that this will be easier said than done. Hazel, unlike her brother, retains a good private income; this makes it slightly surprising that she should work as a secretary to a gifted inventor, but the seasoned mystery reader assumes that an invention may have some relevance to the story.

Driffield comes on to the scene when Hazel goes missing in mysterious circumstances. At about the same time, her husband is found to have been murdered. Nicholas is the prime suspect, but he has an alibi. Another ex-convict is also hanging around suspiciously. And what about the rather enigmatic lawyer who behaves so unprofessionally.

A mysterious machine found at her home, some paintings and a cryptic telegram are among the clues in an enjoyable mystery. You do have to suspend disbelief in relation to Hazel’s behaviour, and the guilty party is relatively obvious, but all the same, this is another example of Connington’s ability to put together an unusual story that kept me engaged throughout.

Forgotten Book - Mystery at Lynden Sands

The case of the Tichborne Claimant is a classic of impersonation and it has provided the inspiration for a host of crime stories, including today’s Forgotten Book, Mystery at Lynden Sands (1929) by J.J. Connington, a story which recreates the partnership of Sir Clinton Driffield and Squire Wendover first encountered in Murder in the Maze.


This is an enjoyable book, although I found it difficult not to be deterred by an excruciating first chapter in which a brother tediously reminds his sister of the family history, all of which she knew already, simply in order to explain the background to the reader. Including a simple family tree would have been a better option. It’s an example of how not to convey factual information in a novel.


But I was glad I persevered. This poor bit of writing aside, Connington does a very good job in creating one of his complicated fair-play murder mysteries. He makes excellent use of the seaside resort setting for purposes of the plot, although, typically, he provides diagrams of crime scenes rather than memorable descriptions. The Holmes-Watson relationship between Driffield and Wendover is nicely drawn, as are their dealings with the local cop, named Armadale (perhaps after the Wilkie Collins novel?)


One of the intriguing features of the Connington books is the sheer ruthlessness of Driffield. He is quite prepared to let a villain suffer in agony, yet in many ways he is decent and good-natured. His focus is, above all, on evidence, and this reflects Connington’s scientific training. He focuses on facts, like emotions. But despite this touch of coldness, Connington was definitely one of the more interesting writers of the Golden Age.

Forgotten Book - The Case with Nine Solutions

One of J.J. Connington’s most popular novels, which became a green Penguin edition after his death, is my Forgotten Book for today, The Case with Nine Solutions. It was first published in 1928 (not 1926, as my Penguin edition states) and featured Sir Clinton Driffield, as well as four murders.

Connington, whose real name was A.W. Stewart, was a professor of chemistry, and this is a book which draws heavily on his scientific expertise. When I first read it, more than twenty years ago, I found it slightly disappointing, but on a re-reading I understood more clearly what Connington was trying to do. Despite the title, he was not offering a story with a raft of alternative solutions, in the way Anthony Berkeley did. Rather, he was offering a complicated and fairly clued puzzle that focused on the means of committing murder more than on human motivation.

The story begins pretty well, as a locum doctor who is called out to a case of scarlet fever one foggy night turns up at the wrong house and discovers a young man in his death throes. There is a dying message, the first of a long line of clues, including coded messages and various bits of scientific information – Driffield even lectures a colleague on the meaning of “mixed melting-points”, in the finest tradition of the know-all sleuth.

The catalyst for the crimes is a dark and sexually motivated scheme which, in keeping with the time of publication, is not described explicitly. There are also echoes of the Crippen case and, obliquely, Connington suggests the nature of a mistake that Crippen may well have made. The finale is literally explosive. All in all, an interesting book, well worth looking out.

Forgotten Book - Nemesis at Raynham Parva

Nemesis at Raynham Parva is the rather grand title of my Forgotten Book for today. The book was published in 1929, and the author was J. J. Connington, who is one of those Golden Age writers who definitely deserves to be better known. The American edition was called Grim Vengeance, and this sums up the story pretty well.

Sir Clinton Driffield – one of the toughest-minded of all Golden Age detectives - is travelling to visit his sister after a period spent abroad, when he comes across a strange confrontation in the road. One of the men involved is Argentinian, and when he arrives at his destination, he finds that his niece has recently married another man from the Argentine. The tiny village of Raynham Parva is soon overflowing with foreign incomers, as a mysterious character who appears to have been a foreign agent also turns up.

This is an unusual, and rather curiously structured book. The meat of it is in the final section, in which an elaborate murder is committed. Connington provides a startling explanation of what has happened that is the most memorable feature of the whole story, and arguably also a milestone in the development of Golden Age fiction.

There are several touches which remind us that Connington was a scientist, and a man with a highly practical turn of mind. The book is a reminder, too, that writers of that period were intensely interested in the concept of justice, and how to achieve it – especially if the orthodox legal routes were not available. I can’t claim this book is a masterpiece, but it remains perfectly readable, and its historical interest is significant. And I think Connington’s willingness to experiment with the detective novel form is a sign of his quality.

Forgotten Book - Murder in the Maze

For today's journey into the past of detective fiction, I'm again looking at a book by J.J. Connington, a writer who continues to grow on me. This time, the spotlight is on Murder in the Maze, which introduced Sir Clinton Driffield and his chum Wendover, a likeable 'Watson' figure.

Two equally unpleasant brothers are found dead in the maze of the country house where they live, and Driffield leads the hunt for the killer. Off-hand, I can't think of any other series where a Chief Constable is the main sleuth, but I'd be glad to learn of any I've forgotten or ignored.

Driffield here is just 35 years old (something I hadn't realised when reading his later adventures) and a pretty dynamic - and tough - character. The story is a very good exercise in "fair play" detection, and my admiration for Connington continues to increase. I first read his most famous book, The Case With Nine Solutions, many years ago, and felt a bit let down. I must try it again, to see whether I ought to revise that judgment.

A maze is a great, if obvious, image to use in mystery fiction. I used it myself in Eve of Destruction, and I must say I find mazes fascinating. Connington makes good use of the setting here, and the finale in the maze is quite chilling. A notable book, which helped establish him in the top tier of detective novelists.

Forgotten Book - In Whose Dim Shadow

J.J. Connington was a reliable Golden Age writer, and it’s rather surprising that In Whose Dim Shadow, published in 1935, truly is a Forgotten Book. The copy I’ve just read, generously lent to me by a keen collector, boasts a wonderful pictorial dust jacket with a map of the scene of the crime, perfectly in keeping with Golden Age tradition.

This novel features his regular “Holmes and Watson” duo, the Chief Constable Sir Clinton Driffield, and his friend Wendover. They are upper class figures, but decent men who are not snobbish – in fact, their attitude towards characters who are dismissive of working class people is one of disgust. This slant on the class system is a reminder that class divide issues in Britain were, and perhaps still are, rather more complex than they might seem.

Connington is not known for his characterisation, but there are a number of points in the story when he makes observations about human nature that I thought were quite acute. And as detective novelist, he strikes me as under-rated. This case involves the discovery of a body in a flat, and the victim proves to have been a bigamist.

The mystery is cleverly contrived, with a neat story-line, not too much padding (though I admit the pace isn’t electric) and a good solution. The only real snag is that Connington is so keen to play fair with the reader that, to my mind, he gives too many clues and makes it too easy to solve the problem. But it’s an enjoyable story, all the same.

Forgotten Book - The Boat-House Riddle

The very title of The Boat-House Riddle by J.J. Connington gives away the fact that it is not a modern book. You’d never use such a title nowadays. And I think it’s a worthy entry in Patti Abbott’s series of Forgotten Books, because I’d like to bet that very few even of the knowledgeable readers of this blog have ever come across this particular novel. It was published in 1931, and my copy is a 1969 reprint, published by Lythway, who produced a lot of books for libraries in those days, some of which I read in my teens.

The boat-house in question belongs to Wendover, pal of Connington’s usual detective, Chief Constable Sir Clinton Driffield. Driffield comes to stay with Wendover, and soon the body of a gamekeeper is discovered near the boat-house. We are provided with a plan of the scene. And eventually a second body is dredged up from a lake.

This is a soundly constructed story, although the circle of suspects is small and there isn’t a great deal of tension or dramatic action. Much of the story is devoted to working out the sequence of events on one particular evening. But I found the book a quick and agreeable read.

An interesting feature of the novel is the observations about social class, which probably tell you a lot about England in 1931 (though I should add that Connington was a Scot who lived in Belfast.) For instance: ‘If Ferrers had been one of those foreigners who can be strung up to any pitch by jealousy, there might be something in it. But an Englishman of that class would never turn a casual flirtation into a murder drama.’ But my favourite line is: ‘In science, an international reputation implies merely that an author’s papers are read by a handful of specialists, half of whom probably disagree with the conclusion’. Connington was a scientist, and I suspect he enjoyed writing that line.