Pretty Sinister Books

While I was sorting books and replacing books I've read back on shelves I was reminded that three books I recently bought were signed. In two cases this was not mentioned in the description when I bought the books and it was quite a surprise when I opened them. So I thought I'd go through the few books I know are signed by the author, take photos and share them with the world.  Enjoy!

 

John V. Turner also wrote as "Nicholas Brady" and "David Hume." This is rather rare signature. The book came from a stash of books and memorabilia from the home of one of Turner's relatives. The bookseller sent me an intriguing email explaining that in the box of books he purchased there were some old videotapes and one of them apparently showed Turner at his 90th birthday party surrounded by relatives singing "Happy Birthday."

 

This is in my copy of Concrete Kimono by John Paddy Carstairs. This inscription is in gigantic bold handwriting and takes up the entire free endpaper.  Carstairs was a movie and television show director, a painter and novelist best known for his humorous fiction rather than his handful of crime and adventure thrillers. His detective is Garway Trenton a scriptwriter who stumbles into ludicrous crimes with the ease of a klutz slipping on a banana peel. And we're supposed to find the books as funny as such trite pratfalls. I think Carstairs did not mean to be self-deprecating in this inscription but was actually telling the truth -- the books are indeed loaded with nonsense.

Eileen Helen Clements is the author of a series of crime and espionage novels featuring her series character Alistair Woodhead. I reviewed Cherry Harvest earlier this year. Two more reviews of her books are planned for later this year.

Joan Cockin is the pseudonym of Joan Burbidge Macintosh, PhD, CBE, one of the first women to work in British diplomatic service during World War Two.  Her excellent mystery novel Villainy at Vespers, so deserving of being reprinted, was reviewed here February 2020.  I'll be reading the book above and reviewing it in June.

Edwy Searles Brooks is better known by his alter egos "Berkeley Gray" and his Norman Conquest adventure novels as well as "Victor Gunn" in which Inspector Bill "Ironsides" Cromwell solves baffling murders many of which are impossible crimes or have Gothic or macabre content.

This one was one of the surprises.  I was reading The Opera Murders by Kirby Williams a few months ago and was curious about the real name of Kirby Williams which I knew was a pseudonym. I had nearly forgotten I owned a copy of The CVC Murders, the first Williams mystery. When I dragged it out of the dusty box in which it was buried I opened it to find this revelation.  The name Kirby Williams was the pen name of Irving Ramsdell.  A simple Google search uncovered Ramsdell's obituary and I learned he went by the name Kirby and not Irving, among many other bits of trivia.  More on Ramsdell and his two collaborators and their two murder mysteries very much modeled on the Van Dine School is coming soon.

 

Aloha Nui Oe! Max Freedom Long wrote three detective novels featuring Komako Koa, a plantation policeman in Hawaii.  I've written about The Lava Murders, Long's second mystery, at Mystery*File website.  This signature appears in my copy of his third novel Death Goes Native, a book I still haven't read. Maybe I'll finally get to it this summer.

Collector mania. Why have I read yet another book about an aspect of my own life? Am I really that self-obsessed? Must I read about collecting in order to understand my own obsession with obscure genre fiction and my almost pathological acquisition of hundreds of these books? Do I really need to read one more novelist’s ideas about the psychology of monomania? Yes to all questions! And after all this book is set in the 18th century. (OK, that was just a feeble excuse to look the other way when faced with answering those questions I posed) But guess what? This was quite a page turner. And the best part? The Cabinets of Barnaby Mayne (2020) is a legitimate detective novel.

Until I stumbled across Elsa Hart’s fourth novel in the library I knew nothing of her or her books. According to the jacket blurb and her bio she has written three other mystery novels featuring Li Du, a librarian of 18th century China living in exile near the Tibetan border who accidentally becomes a detective. The subject matter of each of those books seemed a bit eggheady to me and would not have appealed to me. But The Cabinets of Barnaby Mayne despite its possibly dreary 18th century setting and a self-consciously decorous writing style won me over almost immediately. Hart knows how to tell an engaging story, creates lively and flawed characters, is masterful with her plotting and actually employs fair play detective novel conventions. I devoured this book the way a mad collector goes after a rare specimen to complete a set of wondrous objects.

Cecily Kay travels from her ex-patriated home in Smyrna where her husband is a diplomat to London in order to study the collection of plants in the awe-inspiring and vast collection of oddities in the museum like home of Barnaby Mayne. While conducting a tour of his home for Cecily and other like-minded collectors there to marvel at the shells, plants, insects, taxidermized animals and esoteric artwork Mayne is distracted by an urgent message. He excuses himself allowing his guests to wander his home on their own. Shortly afterward he is found brutally murdered in his private study. His assistant is found in the room holding a knife in his hand and screams out “I killed him!” and then flees.

Is it all over before it has even begun? Oh no, my friends. Cecily has noticed things that just don’t add up. She disbelieves the confession from the meek assistant and is convinced he is protecting someone. She and her friend Meacan, a talented illustrator hired to do some drawings of Mayne’s collection, turn amateur detectives to ferret out the truth. When Lady Mayne arrives to take care of her dead husband’s estate she is encouraged to have the collection catalogued. Meacan and Cecily are quickly appointed to undertake the daunting project. Their presence is the house then allows them opportunity to investigate the murder site. They can also pore over the rooms without being questioned as they simultaneously carry out the cataloguing task and hunt for evidence the police might have overlooked since they have in custody the confessor and think the case is closed.

The suspects are numerous but mostly confined to the men and one woman who were present in the house during the tour. Over the course of their sleuthing and probing Cecily and Meacan uncover an investment project that is financing the search for sunken treasure at a shipwreck, a cabal of occultists who may have been involved in secret rituals, and meet with a sinister coffee house owner who is part con man and part vigilante. Hart gives us an abundance of thriller conventions like abduction and eleventh hour rescues in addition to the requisite, sometimes slyly underhanded, questioning as part of the murder investigation.

And while there are some well-placed clues that I missed the book suffers from one of the cardinal sins of this type of adventure thriller – a not so well hidden villain.  I immediately suspected one character the moment he first appeared and was proven correct. I didn’t have to examine his motives or behavior, My targeting him was based solely on the fact that he exemplifies a certain archetype found in Gothic and neo-Gothic novels from which The Cabinet of Barnaby Mayne has most definitely evolved whether Hart is conscious of it or not. When I see that type of character in a novel of this sort I always expect the worst outcome, underhanded manipulations of even seemingly good actions.

On the final page Cecily mentions she has received a letter about the current tenants fleeing her home that she and her husband leased while they were in Smyrna. The letter writer implies something rather mysterious was going on. She offers Meacan a chance to travel with her and investigate the reason why the family left. This most likely indicates a sequel in the works. Perhaps the second book of another trilogy? I’ll be sure to check out the next adventure of Cecily Kay and Meacan. Even with its obvious villain this was one entertaining contemporary mystery novel -- well written with a couple of excellent lead characters and a cast of eccentric people who hide unexpected secrets and so detailed and steeped in its milieu that I felt I was reading a book written centuries ago rather than only last year. Elsa Hart is worth watching. I may even try one of the Li Du mystery novels now.

This was left inside my copy of One Man's Muddle by E. Baker Quinn, a 1938 reprint of a book originally published in 1936.  The card itself is undated so I can only guess it comes from no earlier than 1938 and probably no later than 1940 prior to the Blitz.  I can't imagine there would be too many solicitations for building societies offering such a high interest rate after London was bombed.


Building societies seem to be peculiar to Europe. From what I gather they are analogous to credit unions in the United States as they are owned by all its members. They also sound like a savings and loan institution which used to be prevalent in the US prior to the scandals that rocked the financial world back in the 1990s. All three types of financial organizations used the members money to make mortgage, car and other personal loans to its membership.

The British building societies date back to the late 19th century. On this Pall Mall Building Society solicitation card they remind you of that with the statement: "Incorporated under the Building Societies Ats, 1874 to 1894."  Pall Mall apparently did not have a long life.  I can find nothing about the group on the various historical financial websites I visited. A Wikipedia article on building societies only lists current histories dating back to the 1990s and does not track anything that went out of business or was acquired by another banking institution prior to 1944.


The Honorable Ralph Roper-Curzon (1899-1979), the Secretary of the building society to whom the card is addressed, was the second son of Henry John Philip Sidney Roper-Curzon (1837-1936), the 18th Baron Teynman. Ralph served in both World Wars, was wounded during WW1 and achieved the rank of Captain and Acting Lieutenant-Colonel in the Scots Guards. Two photographs of Ralph are part of the extensive collection in the National Portrait Gallery but they have not bothered to digitize either. Darn! However, his father and older brother who were both listed in Burke's Peerage had their photos taken by Bassano Ltd have been digitized and can be viewed online. You can see Henry here, and Christopher John (1896-1972), his brother,  here.

I was pleasantly surprised when this bit of pasteboard appeared in the final pages of a 1934 murder mystery I recently finished reading. Because coming across it told me that this book most likely has not been read or opened since this bus ride!

On the left is a photo of both sides of a bus ticket printed by the North Western Road Car Company, a transportation company started in 1923 and originally based in Stockport, England. In its final three decades the company had moved headquarters to Liverpool. From 1923 to 1986 NWRC operated bus services in the counties of Cheshire, Lancashire, West Riding of Yorkshire, Derbyshire and Staffordshire. The bus company’s entire history including its many mergers and acquisitions of other transportation services over its 60+ years is outlined – where else? – on a Wikipedia page here.

In comparing this ticket against dozens of images of similar bus tickets from the North Western Road Co. I discovered that this was the earliest of them all. All I had to do was look at the cheapest fare price (1 penny). On other tickets the lowest fare one could pay was no less than 3 pence. So I’m certain that this ticket dates to the mid-1930s (no earlier than 1934 the book’s publication year) The other tickets I looked at had years on from the World War 2 era.

Close study shows the date this particular ticket was purchased and the fare paid. We know that the ticket was purchased on August 7 (see right side of photo) and I think the 4 punched at the very top indicates 1934. The rider also paid a "Workman" fare meaning, I assume, that he was a daily commuter going to or coming from his place of employment. Reading the fine print instructions reveals that the number above the cut off portion was the fare paid.  This "Workman" fare was 1/2 or 1 shilling, 2 pence.

This particular ticketing system was developed by the Willebrew company. I found several websites devoted to the history of transportation in the UK and the best designed and most informative was Bob Mockford’s site which includes loads of fascinating info in his “Bus Museum” section.

Here is a verbatim section taken from that site describing how the Willebrew ticketing system worked:

The Willebrew machine used pre-printed tickets. Unlike the earlier punches, these tickets had a large number of fare options on each ticket. This meant fewer tickets for the conductor to carry.

Willebrew model #10288 photo from Bob-Mockford.co.uk

The conductor selected the ticket, inserted it into the machine and cut off a section up to the fare paid. This section was retained inside the machine and the remainder handed to the passenger.

The conductor did not know the value of tickets issued. This would be calculated later in the office, preventing the conductor from taking any surplus cash.

The Willebrew is opened by inserting a small screwdriver into a hole in the bottom of the machine, pressing the spring-loaded catch inside and pulling the cover downwards. It is not necessary to completely remove the cover as shown in the photo, in fact it is better not to as holding down the catch while re-inserting the cover is difficult.

Once opened, a clerk in the office would remove the pieces of ticket to calculate the takings.

A review of the book -- The Sealed Room Mystery -- in which I discovered this bit of paper is coming up soon

This morning when I checked my email I got an alert than one of my "want list" books was available for purchase. This happens all too rarely. Last year I got one of these email alerts and I wrote about it on this blog because the price of the book was gasp inducing. As I've said before, when I get one of these emails I cross my fingers that I can afford the book. This morning I think I managed quite a coup in book acquisition. Here's the notice I received:


Danger Next Door!  The most elusive book in the entire output of Richard Wilson Webb and Hugh Wheeler. I've never seen a copy for sale in the nearly eighteen years I've been selling books. Nor have I seen one in the four decades I've been buying vintage mystery novels as an incurable collector and fan. This was the most exciting purchase I've made in a very long time. I feel like a little kid and I can't wait for the book to arrive and soak in its pages.

A review on this rarity will definitely be appearing in February. Stay tuned, gang!

Here's part 2 of the books I purchased during the summer.  Plus the best of the vintage paperbacks I picked up yesterday afternoon on the first day of the Hyde Park-Kenwood Community Conference Book Sale.  Lovely sunny autumn day to be down in the Hyde Park neighborhood of Chicago, about 20 miles south from our condo way up in Rogers Park.

The top half shows a collection of hardbacks with DJs we bought at the fabulous Jackson Books in Omaha, Nebraska.  The only reason we visited Omaha was to see the new exhibits at the very impressively designed zoo. Then we investigated the restaurant scene and by chance found Jackson Books nestled in a bustling and touristy entertainment district. Nebraska is also one of the states I'd never visited. Every summer for the past ten years we try to visit at least two new states. Last year we knocked off Kansas from that list. Six left (Wyoming, Idaho, Vermont, West Virginia, and the Dakotas) and I'll have been to all 50 states in the country.



Click to enlarge the paperback photos for more detail.

Looking over Tracy's post at Bitter Tea and Mystery about her book finds from the Planned Parenthood Sale she attended got me thinking of the bags of books I acquired over the summer. Here's a collection of what I picked up in a midsummer trip to Nashville a while ago. This is a mix of hardcovers with jackets, one vintage book from 1919, and several vintage paperbacks.

The hardcover mysteries were all purchased at BookMan BookWoman and were on sale for $9.95 each. I could easily have spent an awful lot of money there, but I decided to restrain myself and be selective. Wild Justice (reviewed here) was also purchased with this lot. The paperbacks (shown first) all came from the Rhino Books location in the Lipscomb University neighborhood. An impressive but small vintage and collectible paperback section at that store, but on ridiculously high shelves that challenged my stretching abilities (I couldn't find a step stool1) The other Rhino Books location was closed the day we were book hunting. If ever in Nashville I highly recommend you visit these two used bookstores. Both are general used bookstores with quite a variety of fiction and non-fiction in all categories.





Above is the frontispiece from the US first edition of Something Doing (1919) by Varick Vanardy, a thriller featuring master criminal Crewe, "the Two-Faced Man." My copy has no jacket and a boring typographic cover so opted for the inside illustration by George W. Gage instead which was used to adorn the original DJ.


The next two books I bought at the Lake Forest Public Library book sale held every September. I thought I'd add them into the mix because they were rather exciting finds for me.


This is a sequel to Murder in a Nunnery which I reviewed back in 2013. I've been looking for the second title ever since. Couldn't pass up this copy (one buck!) in the scarce dust jacket even if it's chipped and torn.


Unnatural Causes, the third book in the Adam Dalgliesh series, is a rather scarce 1st American edition. The copy I found is in superior condition, with only minor creasing to the bottom of the excellent dust jacket. I got it for a mere $20. Can't help but brag about the steals I encounter in my book collecting.

Next week I'll post the books I picked up at an earlier trip to Omaha and the remainder of the books from the Lake Forest sale.

David McKay Company, another publisher based in Philadelphia (see previous Main Line Mystery and Lippincott Masked Man posts), joined the post-World War Two era mystery imprint mania around the mid 1940s. They seemed to have copied their line of crime fiction imprints along Doubleday's Crime Club 1940s model which used a set of cartoon drawings to denote the subgenre of each of the books being sold ranging from a magnifying glass to signify "Favorite Detective" to a grinning skull for "Comic Crime". McKay Company also chose to broaden the definition of detective fiction to include spy novels and adventure thrillers that supposedly also include detective novel elements. On the rear panel of each book included in the imprint there was a key to help the buyer determine what kind of crime novel they were holding in their hands. But while Crime Club used distinctive icons McKay used a subtle system of color coding employed in the imprint's very clever logo of man reading in an armchair. And if you couldn't figure it out for yourself they just told you as shown in the example below.


The "Armchair Mystery" dust jackets began with a uniformly designed dust jacket at the start in 1945. The entire DJ had a yellow background with full color art work on the front panel, an ad for another Title on the rear panel, and the logo key explained on the rear flap along with another ad for the upcoming book in the series. The imprint logo or title was placed on the front board and spine of the book and on all panels of the DJ: front, both flaps, rear panel and spine panel. In the years after 1945 this formula was dropped and DJ art no longer used the yellow background and the logo key was eventually eliminated as well.

The leading writers in the "Armchair Mystery" imprint were Bruno Fischer, W. T. Ballard, and "Edward Ronns" who writing under his own name, Edward S. Aarons, became one of the bestselling writers for Gold Medal when he created the "Assignment" series featuring Sam Durrell, a CIA agent.

The imprint, however, was extremely short lived and ran from 1945 to 1948. I can find no sign of any of David McKay's detective, crime or espionage fiction after 1948 published as part of the "Armchair Mystery" imprint. If anyone knows that this one lasted longer, I'd appreciate knowing of some or all of the later titles.