#36 – One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

Poirot reluctantly visits the dentists and later that afternoon Inspector Japp calls him to say that his dentist, Mr Morley, has just committed suicide. A motive is soon discovered and the case is closed until a fellow patient disappears.

Thus begins a very twisty case as Poirot negotiates his way through matters of State and those on both sides of the political divide.

An interesting read but built on a double coincidence and one key aspect of the solution is not explained. Small references in the text in order to fit with the nursery rhyme feel a little forced.

Recurring character development

Hercule Poirot

Could always do without a cup of tea.

Sometimes discusses cases with his valet, George.

His phone number is Whitehall 7272 – likely a joke given that Scotland Yard’s was Whitehall 1212.

Sings baritone.

Signs of the Times

Mr Amberiotis refers to “casting your bread upon the waters” which is from Ecclesiastes Chapter 11.

Poirot thinks that his fellow patient in the waiting room wishes he had his Flit spray with him. This was a brand of insecticide launched in 1923 by the Standard Oil Company (later Esso). It contained 5% of the now notorious DDT.

Mr Morley believes that Alistair Blunt is the British answer to “their Hitlers and Mussolinis”.

The Reds and the Blackshirts would both like to see Blunt put out of the way.

Alfred, Mr Morley’s page-boy, is reading the fictional “Death at Eleven-Forty-Five”.

Japp wonders if Poirot thinks that they may find Miss Sainsbury Seale “cut up in little pieces like Mrs Ruxton”. On 15th September 1935 Buck Ruxton murdered his wife, Isabella, and their maid, Mary Jane Rogerson, in their home in Lancaster. Their dismembered bodies were discovered on 29th September 1935 in Dumfriesshire. Forensic entomology suggested that the remains had been there for 12-14 days. Some parts were wrapped in a special souvenir edition of the Sunday Graphic which had only been circulated in the Morecambe and Lancaster region. Ruxton was tried, found guilty, and hanged in 1936.

Miss Sainsbury Seale collects for the Zenana Missions. Under the purdah system in India, women were confined to special quarters in the home called zenana, where unrelated males were forbidden to go. Female missionaries were able to visit women in the zenana, and as well as teaching them about Christianity also provided medical and educational services.

Japp says that “these things are all my eye and Betty Martin” meaning that they are a lot of nonsense. The origins of the phrase are unclear.

The porter refers to “that old cup of tea who came to see Mrs Chapman” where “cup of tea” is presumably rhyming slang for “lady”.

Japp says  of the fur chest “we opened it up – and there was the lady! Mistletoe Bough up-to-date.” The Legend of Mistletoe Bough tells of a bride who hides in a chest in an attic and is then trapped and dies. She is not found at the time and many years later her skeleton is discovered. It first appears in print in 1822 in a poem called “Ginevra” by Samuel Rogers. In the 1830s it became a song called “Mistletoe Bough” by T. H. Bayley and Sir Henry Bishop.

Mrs Merton had discussed going to see the new Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire with Mrs Chapman. This may have been 1939’s “The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle”, the duo’s penultimate film together.

When they find that Mr Chapman works for the Secret Service, Japp says “Shades of Phillips Oppenheim, Valentine Williams and William le Queux.” All three were well-known thriller writers. Le Queux was best known for “The Invasion of 1910” written in 1906 which depicted Germany attacking an unprepared Great Britain. When war did come, he asked for, but was not granted, special police protection.

Japp has to stop the official investigation telling Poirot it is “Na Poo! It’s off.” This is army slang from the First World War, possibly a corruption of the French “Il n’y a plus” (there is no more).

The scripture sung in church is the beginning of Psalm 140.

Frank Carter is a member of the Imperial Shirts – they march with banners and have a ridiculous salute – clearly similar to Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists.

References to previous works

Mention is made of the Herjoslovakian Loan. Herzoslovakia was at the centre of The Secret of Chimneys.

Poirot reminisces about Countess Vera Rossakoff who appeared in The Big Four .

Poirot has half the cabinet in his pocket because of the work he did in “The Case of the Augean Stables” one of the “Labours of Hercules”.

Vintage Mystery Challenge

Fulfils “How – death by shooting”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#36 – One, Two, Buckle My Shoe – WITH SPOILERS

Poirot reluctantly visits the dentists and later that afternoon Inspector Japp calls him to say that his dentist, Mr Morley, has just committed suicide. A motive is soon discovered and the case is closed until a fellow patient disappears.

Thus begins a very twisty case as Poirot negotiates his way through matters of State and those on both sides of the political divide.

An interesting read but built on a double coincidence and one key aspect of the solution is not explained. Small references in the text in order to fit with the nursery rhyme feel a little forced.

Recurring character development

Hercule Poirot

Could always do without a cup of tea.

Sometimes discusses cases with his valet, George.

His phone number is Whitehall 7272 – likely a joke given that Scotland Yard’s was Whitehall 1212.

Sings baritone.

Signs of the Times

Mr Amberiotis refers to “casting your bread upon the waters” which is from Ecclesiastes Chapter 11.

Poirot thinks that his fellow patient in the waiting room wishes he had his Flit spray with him. This was a brand of insecticide launched in 1923 by the Standard Oil Company (later Esso). It contained 5% of the now notorious DDT.

Mr Morley believes that Alistair Blunt is the British answer to “their Hitlers and Mussolinis”.

The Reds and the Blackshirts would both like to see Blunt put out of the way.

Alfred, Mr Morley’s page-boy, is reading the fictional “Death at Eleven-Forty-Five”.

Japp wonders if Poirot thinks that they may find Miss Sainsbury Seale “cut up in little pieces like Mrs Ruxton”. On 15th September 1935 Buck Ruxton murdered his wife, Isabella, and their maid, Mary Jane Rogerson, in their home in Lancaster. Their dismembered bodies were discovered on 29th September 1935 in Dumfriesshire. Forensic entomology suggested that the remains had been there for 12-14 days. Some parts were wrapped in a special souvenir edition of the Sunday Graphic which had only been circulated in the Morecambe and Lancaster region. Ruxton was tried, found guilty, and hanged in 1936.

Miss Sainsbury Seale collects for the Zenana Missions. Under the purdah system in India, women were confined to special quarters in the home called zenana, where unrelated males were forbidden to go. Female missionaries were able to visit women in the zenana, and as well as teaching them about Christianity also provided medical and educational services.

Japp says that “these things are all my eye and Betty Martin” meaning that they are a lot of nonsense. The origins of the phrase are unclear.

The porter refers to “that old cup of tea who came to see Mrs Chapman” where “cup of tea” is presumably rhyming slang for “lady”.

Japp says  of the fur chest “we opened it up – and there was the lady! Mistletoe Bough up-to-date.” The Legend of Mistletoe Bough tells of a bride who hides in a chest in an attic and is then trapped and dies. She is not found at the time and many years later her skeleton is discovered. It first appears in print in 1822 in a poem called “Ginevra” by Samuel Rogers. In the 1830s it became a song called “Mistletoe Bough” by T. H. Bayley and Sir Henry Bishop.

Mrs Merton had discussed going to see the new Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire with Mrs Chapman. This may have been 1939’s “The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle”, the duo’s penultimate film together.

When they find that Mr Chapman works for the Secret Service, Japp says “Shades of Phillips Oppenheim, Valentine Williams and William le Queux.” All three were well-known thriller writers. Le Queux was best known for “The Invasion of 1910” written in 1906 which depicted Germany attacking an unprepared Great Britain. When war did come, he asked for, but was not granted, special police protection.

Japp has to stop the official investigation telling Poirot it is “Na Poo! It’s off.” This is army slang from the First World War, possibly a corruption of the French “Il n’y a plus” (there is no more).

The scripture sung in church is the beginning of Psalm 140.

Frank Carter is a member of the Imperial Shirts – they march with banners and have a ridiculous salute – clearly similar to Oswald Mosley’s British Union of Fascists.

References to previous works

Mention is made of the Herjoslovakian Loan. Herzoslovakia was at the centre of The Secret of Chimneys.

Poirot reminisces about Countess Vera Rossakoff who appeared in The Big Four .

Poirot has half the cabinet in his pocket because of the work he did in “The Case of the Augean Stables” one of the “Labours of Hercules”.

Vintage Mystery Challenge

Fulfils “How – death by shooting”.

SPOILERS

Often a Christie can be summed up in a sentence but this is not the case here. For me it had the feeling of a Freeman Wills Crofts plot- a complicated piece of machinery with more moving parts than normal. Poirot as usual explains his thinking at the end but it would have been interesting to see Inspector French’s thoughts as he followed up various possibilities and weighing up the evidence.

I love how killing the dentist covers up who killed Amberiotis and how it is also used to enable Miss Sainsbury Seale to be identified as Mrs Chapman. But how does Blunt know that Amberiotis is going to visit his dentist? That is a key hole in the plot as far as I can see – has anyone got any ideas?

Interesting, the David Suchet adaptation plays this as a howcatchem because it is clear – at least I assume that is deliberate – that there are two Miss Sainsbury Seale’s. Unlike in a different Christie adaptation which cheats because the same person plays two roles until the reveal when they show the same scene with somebody else.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#35 – Sad Cypress

“Elinor Katharine Carlisle. You stand charged upon this indictment with the murder of Mary Gerrard upon the 27th of July last. Are you guilty or not guilty?”

This book starts with the opening of a murder trial which is being attended by Hercule Poirot before taking us back through the events that led up the crime.

Poirot is only asked to investigate by the village doctor after Elinor’s arrest and whilst his inquiries shift the jigsaw pieces of the puzzle and motives come and go, all roads keep leading back to Elinor. For once has he backed the wrong horse?

This is the second and last Christie title that I first read in French in order to avoid reading a proper French book, although I definitely understood this more than “Drame en trois actes”.

Whilst I was fairly sure that I had read this in English before (which I did eventually prove to my satisfaction) I had no memory of the structure of the novel and my expectations for the denouement were definitely based on the David Suchet adaptation which is much more dramatic, but also more unlikely.

A solid if unspectacular mystery, but even an average Christie is a good thing.

Recurring character development

Hercule Poirot

Dr Lord comes to Poirot because he has about his success in the Benedict Farley case from Stillingfleet.

Chief Inspector Marsden says that Poirot will be granted an interview with Elinor because he’s got the present Home Secretary in his pocket, presumably for services rendered to the British government.

Has some useful assistants – including a former burglar who he uses to search a residence.

Signs of the Times

The story is set in 1939 but there is no feeling of an impending World War. Dr Lord sees no reason why Poirot should not have personally been to Germany to make inquiries.

Roddy refers to Elinor as “la Princesse Lointaine“. This description of an unattainable woman comes from the 1895 play of the same name by Edmond Rostand (1868-1918).

Nurse Hopkins saw Elinor’s picture in “Tatler”. This British magazine, initially published weekly, was created in 1901 by Clement Shorter. It was named after a short-lived literary and society journal of the same name from the early 18th century. It briefly changed its name in the mid-Sixties to “London Life” and is now owned by Condé Nast.

Nurse Hopkins suggests massage or Norland as opportunities for Mary Gerrard. Norland College was founded in 1892 by Emily Ward to train women in caring for and educating children. It has changed locations a number of times and is now based in Bath.

Euthanasia is referenced but not by name. Charles Killick Millard had founded the Voluntary Euthanasia Legalisation Society (now Dignity in Dying) in 1935.

Dr Lord asks Laura Welman if she has heard of “the Little Ease – you couldn’t stand, sit or lie in it”. This is a cell beneath the Tower of London’s White Tower, 1.2m on each side. It is unclear whether it was used to house prisoners but it sounds quite unpleasant.

Roddy compares Mary Gerrard to Atalanta. She was a huntress in Greek mythology who could beat any man in a footrace until she was tricked by Hippomenes with three golden apples given him by Aphrodite.

Ted Bigland refers to films featuring Greta Garbo and Clark Gable but based on the brief descriptions I can’t easily find any of their actual films to match.

The two nurses begin their letters Dear Hopkins/Dear O’Brien with no title or honorific.

Nurse Hopkins’ letter says “Considering the easy way you get divorces nowadays, it does seem a shame that insanity shouldn’t have been a ground for it then”. Until the Matrimonial Causes Act 1937, the only grounds in the United Kingdom for divorce had been adultery. The Act included the following as reasons for divorce: unlawful desertion for two years or more, cruelty, incurable insanity, incest, and sodomy.

Nurse Hopkins enjoyed watching “The Good Earth”. This 1937 film was based on Pearl S. Buck’s 1931 novel of the same name and tells the story of Chinese farmers struggling to survive.

The washing-up bowl is made from papier-mâché which struck me as a little odd.

Laura Welman had a musquash coat which is another term for a coat made from muskrat fur.

Poirot refers to the Hearne case. An interesting account of the 1931 case against Annie Hearn can be found here.

Elinor and Poirot refer to Eleanor of Aquitaine and Fair Rosamund. Eleanor (1122-1204) was the wife of Henry II (1133-1189) and Rosamund Clifford (1150-1176) was his mistress. Legend tells that he kept her hidden within a maze but that Eleanor found her and offered her the choice to die by dagger or poison of which she chose the latter.

Dr Lord drives a Ford 10. The Model C 10 was built by Ford UK between 1934 and 1937 with the 10 referring to its 10 British Fiscal Horsepower.

Poirot mentions “Charlotte and the poet Werther”. This refers to “The Sorrow of Young Werther” (1774) by Goethe.

Vintage Mystery Challenge

Fulfils “How – Death by poison”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#34 – And Then There Were None

“Ladies and gentlemen! Silence please! You are charged with the following indictments…”

Ten people trapped on an island, each accused with being responsible for the death of another. It could be someone’s idea of a sick joke and although after two deaths the remaining eight can just about argue for some sort of coincidence, it soon becomes very clear that they are all going to die unless they can identify their mysterious unseen host U. N. Owen and stop him in his tracks. Can anyone escape or will the final words of the rhyme found in each bedroom come true: And Then There Were None?

There’s so much to say about this one for various reasons so I’ll put in sub-headers to make things clear:

The Plot

I’ll say no more here (see Spoilers version of this post) but if you haven’t read this before,  get a copy and set aside a few hours to read it in one sitting. I defy anyone to go to bed before finishing this one!

2015 TV adaptation

Whilst we may want to give Sarah Phelps (and the Christie estate) a good metaphorical kicking for her subsequent work on Christie, this was almost perfect (until the last five minutes – see Spoilers version of this post) because the source material was properly adhered to with only minor changes to some characters motivations which did not impact the basic plot.

Watching this was of great importance to me as I decided that a re-read would be in order. Into Waterstones I went and found a copy in the Crime section where there was some sort of deal on. To take advantage I picked up a couple of nice looking anthologies from the British Library and four years later I have many more books on my shelves, am writing this blog, and have met many wonderful people online and recently in person at Bodies from the Library.

The Title – and how much should re-publications amend historic texts

The original 1939 English publication was called “Ten Little N*****s” but even at that time it was recognised that in the US this would not be acceptable and it was re-titled “And Then There Were None” with all references to the n-word removed for the 1940 American edition.

Over time UK editions have moved to this title, stopping off via “Ten Little Indians” – my preference would be for it to be called “Ten Little Soldiers” but no matter.

The changes to the title, the rhyme and the island are perfectly sensible – there is no need to give offence to people without reason – but the question is then does anything else need to be changed? My partwork edition hardback (I’m not sure of the date) has one character say:

“Indian Island, eh? There’s a n***** in the woodpile.”

So not all references to the n-word have been removed but the link between the island’s name and the old phrase is lost. In a newer paperback version this has become:

“Soldier Island, eh? There’s a fly in the ointment.”

Which still doesn’t make sense as a logical thought. With removal of the n-word, Vera’s later hysteria when Miss Brent talks about missionary work and “our little black brothers” is again without context – once you start unravelling things where do you stop?

It is interesting that even in the most modern paperback version, the anti-Semitic description of Isaac Morris remains. Is that less offensive than the use of a word in the abstract which isn’t directed at a particular character?

On a related note I had the following email exchange with Ipso Books just over a year ago:

Me: I’ve bought all the paperback Michael Innes books that you have released. Will you be issuing “Appleby on Ararat” out of order or is there a reason why you can’t publish this particular title? Thanks. (When I asked the question I knew nothing about the title – before receiving their response I did a little online research which suggested it may be problematic due to the depiction of the inhabitants of a tropical island).

Ipso: Unfortunately, we won’t be republishing Appleby on Ararat. As you know, these novels were written some time ago, and therefore carry with them a few sentiments from that era that could be unpleasant and offensive to readers now. Sadly, this particular title contains more of these outdated views than the others. I’m so sorry to disappoint! I hope you’re enjoying the other titles in the series though!

Me: Thanks – having not read that title before, I did wonder if that might be the case. Out of interest, how is that type of decision made because “Hamlet, Revenge!” includes at least one instance of the N-word? How much potentially offensive material is too much?

Ipso: We’re actually revisiting all of our backlist titles to remove unnecessary elements of these types of outdated views. We really don’t want any truly offensive material in the books we publish – we don’t want to support those views or alienate any of our readers. Though that typical disclaimer of ‘this was written in a time when views were different’ could be used – we prefer to review the material and make a decision: we have our entire team read the potentially offensive section, we take it into consideration with the context of the plot, and also have an external editor and the agent review the text as well. If a consensus is reached that the offending line doesn’t add anything to the story and can easily be replaced or is gratuitous and can be edited out, we normally choose to substitute or remove it. I’m so sorry that you encountered these instances before we could work through them.

Choosing not to publish a work in its entirety is one thing but is it OK to edit a text without mentioning the fact? In “Hamlet, Revenge!” could it in fact be instructional that the n-word is left in because it used by a character to refer to an Indian gentleman – thus showing that his worldview is that there are white people and then everybody else in the world can be lumped together?

This subject has been looked at in more detail by JJ from The Invisible Event and his thoughts can be found here.

Stage Play

A very interesting talk at Bodies from the Library highlighted that Christie, although now viewed almost exclusively (“The Mousetrap” aside) as a novelist, was also the world’s most successful and popular female playwright. In adapting her own novels for the theatre she wasn’t afraid to cut out Hercule Poirot or in one case to change the identity of the murderer.

As the play was first staged during WWII, General Macarthur became General Mackenzie to avoid any confusion or problems with the real-life American General Douglas Macarthur. More importantly the ending was changed to one that is altogether inferior but more upbeat which it was thought would be better for public morale – see Spoilers version of this post for details.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Not part of the official branded series but my primary school had three books of a similar type of series which I read at some point between the ages of 9 and 11. One was based on the Sherlock Holmes story “The Final Problem” (I think whatever you chose Holme still went over the edge), another featured a retired Holmes keeping bees on the Sussex Downs, and the third was based on “And Then There Were None”, although I only realised this many years later. It was set in the present day in a ski-resort and the reader was one of the ten guests. You could end up being murdered in a number of ways and it absolutely scared the living daylights out of me and caused at least one nightmare.

Previous Uses

P C Wren, best known for the fabulous “Beau Geste”, also wrote many short stories about life in the French Foreign Legion. “Ten Little Legionaries” from the 1917 collection “Stepsons of France” tells of ten deserters. After each one dies, the leader of the group makes up a verse based on the “Ten Little Soldier Boys”. I have no idea whether Christie was aware of this and may have been inspired by it as well as the original poem.

Signs of the Times

Dr Armstrong drives a Morris. William Morris moved from manufacturing bicycles to cars in 1912 and formed WRM Motors Ltd in 1912. From these beginnings he overtook Ford as the UK’s leading seller of cars in 1924. The company went through various mergers eventually becoming part of British Leyland. The Morris brand is now owned by Chinese firm SAIC.

Tony Marston drives a Super-Sports Dalmain. I can find nothing about the history of this marque.

Before dinner on the first night Emily Brent reads from Psalm 9:15-16 in the Authorised (or King James) Version of the Bible.

She also wears a cairngorm brooch. Cairngorm, also known as smoky quartz, is a type of yellow/brown/grey/black gemstone found in the Scottish mountains of the same name.

Mrs Rogers has the following on her washstand: lavender water (a type of eau de toilette), cascara (a laxative), glycerine of cucumber for the hands (a skin cream – you can easily find a recipe online and make your own), and some Elliman’s. This final item is an embrocation first sold in 1847 as a muscle rub for humans and animals and can still be bought today.

Amidst the murder and mayhem one of the safe topics of conversation is the latest reappearance of the Loch Ness monster. The first modern sighting was in 1933 by George Spicer and his wife and other sightings were publicised during the 1930s.

Vintage Mystery Challenge

Fulfils “Where– On an island”.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

#34 – And Then There Were None – WITH SPOILERS

“Ladies and gentlemen! Silence please! You are charged with the following indictments…”

Ten people trapped on an island, each accused with being responsible for the death of another. It could be someone’s idea of a sick joke and although after two deaths the remaining eight can just about argue for some sort of coincidence, it soon becomes very clear that they are all going to die unless they can identify their mysterious unseen host U. N. Owen and stop him in his tracks. Can anyone escape or will the final words of the rhyme found in each bedroom come true: And Then There Were None?

There’s so much to say about this one for various reasons so I’ll put in sub-headers to make things clear:

The Plot

I’ll say no more here (see Spoilers section below) but if you haven’t read this before,  get a copy and set aside a few hours to read it in one sitting. I defy anyone to go to bed before finishing this one!

2015 TV adaptation

Whilst we may want to give Sarah Phelps (and the Christie estate) a good metaphorical kicking for her subsequent work on Christie, this was almost perfect (until the last five minutes – see Spoilers section) because the source material was properly adhered to with only minor changes to some characters motivations which did not impact the basic plot.

Watching this was of great importance to me as I decided that a re-read would be in order. Into Waterstones I went and found a copy in the Crime section where there was some sort of deal on. To take advantage I picked up a couple of nice looking anthologies from the British Library and four years later I have many more books on my shelves, am writing this blog, and have met many wonderful people online and recently in person at Bodies from the Library.

The Title – and how much should re-publications amend historic texts

The original 1939 English publication was called “Ten Little N*****s” but even at that time it was recognised that in the US this would not be acceptable and it was re-titled “And Then There Were None” with all references to the n-word removed for the 1940 American edition.

Over time UK editions have moved to this title, stopping off via “Ten Little Indians” – my preference would be for it to be called “Ten Little Soldiers” but no matter.

The changes to the title, the rhyme and the island are perfectly sensible – there is no need to give offence to people without reason – but the question is then does anything else need to be changed? My partwork edition hardback (I’m not sure of the date) has one character say:

“Indian Island, eh? There’s a n***** in the woodpile.”

So not all references to the n-word have been removed but the link between the island’s name and the old phrase is lost. In a newer paperback version this has become:

“Soldier Island, eh? There’s a fly in the ointment.”

Which still doesn’t make sense as a logical thought. With removal of the n-word, Vera’s later hysteria when Miss Brent talks about missionary work and “our little black brothers” is again without context – once you start unravelling things where do you stop?

It is interesting that even in the most modern paperback version, the anti-Semitic description of Isaac Morris remains. Is that less offensive than the use of a word in the abstract which isn’t directed at a particular character?

On a related note I had the following email exchange with Ipso Books just over a year ago:

Me: I’ve bought all the paperback Michael Innes books that you have released. Will you be issuing “Appleby on Ararat” out of order or is there a reason why you can’t publish this particular title? Thanks. (When I asked the question I knew nothing about the title – before receiving their response I did a little online research which suggested it may be problematic due to the depiction of the inhabitants of a tropical island).

Ipso: Unfortunately, we won’t be republishing Appleby on Ararat. As you know, these novels were written some time ago, and therefore carry with them a few sentiments from that era that could be unpleasant and offensive to readers now. Sadly, this particular title contains more of these outdated views than the others. I’m so sorry to disappoint! I hope you’re enjoying the other titles in the series though!

Me: Thanks – having not read that title before, I did wonder if that might be the case. Out of interest, how is that type of decision made because “Hamlet, Revenge!” includes at least one instance of the N-word? How much potentially offensive material is too much?

Ipso: We’re actually revisiting all of our backlist titles to remove unnecessary elements of these types of outdated views. We really don’t want any truly offensive material in the books we publish – we don’t want to support those views or alienate any of our readers. Though that typical disclaimer of ‘this was written in a time when views were different’ could be used – we prefer to review the material and make a decision: we have our entire team read the potentially offensive section, we take it into consideration with the context of the plot, and also have an external editor and the agent review the text as well. If a consensus is reached that the offending line doesn’t add anything to the story and can easily be replaced or is gratuitous and can be edited out, we normally choose to substitute or remove it. I’m so sorry that you encountered these instances before we could work through them.

Choosing not to publish a work in its entirety is one thing but is it OK to edit a text without mentioning the fact? In “Hamlet, Revenge!” could it in fact be instructional that the n-word is left in because it used by a character to refer to an Indian gentleman – thus showing that his worldview is that there are white people and then everybody else in the world can be lumped together?

This subject has been looked at in more detail by JJ from The Invisible Event and his thoughts can be found here.

Stage Play

A very interesting talk at Bodies from the Library highlighted that Christie, although now viewed almost exclusively (“The Mousetrap” aside) as a novelist, was also the world’s most successful and popular female playwright. In adapting her own novels for the theatre she wasn’t afraid to cut out Hercule Poirot or in one case to change the identity of the murderer.

As the play was first staged during WWII, General Macarthur became General Mackenzie to avoid any confusion or problems with the real-life American General Douglas Macarthur. More importantly the ending was changed to one that is altogether inferior but more upbeat which it was thought would be better for public morale – see Spoilers section for details.

Choose Your Own Adventure

Not part of the official branded series but my primary school had three books of a similar type of series which I read at some point between the ages of 9 and 11. One was based on the Sherlock Holmes story “The Final Problem” (I think whatever you chose Holme still went over the edge), another featured a retired Holmes keeping bees on the Sussex Downs, and the third was based on “And Then There Were None”, although I only realised this many years later. It was set in the present day in a ski-resort and the reader was one of the ten guests. You could end up being murdered in a number of ways and it absolutely scared the living daylights out of me and caused at least one nightmare.

Previous Uses

P C Wren, best known for the fabulous “Beau Geste”, also wrote many short stories about life in the French Foreign Legion. “Ten Little Legionaries” from the 1917 collection “Stepsons of France” tells of ten deserters. After each one dies, the leader of the group makes up a verse based on the “Ten Little Soldier Boys”. I have no idea whether Christie was aware of this and may have been inspired by it as well as the original poem.

Signs of the Times

Dr Armstrong drives a Morris. William Morris moved from manufacturing bicycles to cars in 1912 and formed WRM Motors Ltd in 1912. From these beginnings he overtook Ford as the UK’s leading seller of cars in 1924. The company went through various mergers eventually becoming part of British Leyland. The Morris brand is now owned by Chinese firm SAIC.

Tony Marston drives a Super-Sports Dalmain. I can find nothing about the history of this marque.

Before dinner on the first night Emily Brent reads from Psalm 9:15-16 in the Authorised (or King James) Version of the Bible.

She also wears a cairngorm brooch. Cairngorm, also known as smoky quartz, is a type of yellow/brown/grey/black gemstone found in the Scottish mountains of the same name.

Mrs Rogers has the following on her washstand: lavender water (a type of eau de toilette), cascara (a laxative), glycerine of cucumber for the hands (a skin cream – you can easily find a recipe online and make your own), and some Elliman’s. This final item is an embrocation first sold in 1847 as a muscle rub for humans and animals and can still be bought today.

Amidst the murder and mayhem one of the safe topics of conversation is the latest reappearance of the Loch Ness monster. The first modern sighting was in 1933 by George Spicer and his wife and other sightings were publicised during the 1930s.

Vintage Mystery Challenge

Fulfils “Where– On an island”.

SPOILERS

The One Where An Already Dead Man Did It!

I’ve been re-reading Christie much slower than I would normally in order to take notes and think more about things to include in the blog, but I know that when I first read this I absolutely raced through it wanting to know if anyone would survive and who from the narrowing pool of suspects was responsible. And then the final chapter where Vera has killed Lombard – so did she kill everybody? Now she’s killed herself – what’s all that about?

Then the Epilogue where the police explain that someone moved the chair after her suicide – that no one else could have left the island – and that the only person who could have physically done everything is Blore and yet to the police that is a psychological impossibility – it would have been neater perhaps if his body had been tidied up to also make it physically impossible.

So an adrenaline filled ride which is puzzling enough in itself before the pace slows down and the reader is presented with a final insoluble problem and only then is the truth finally revealed. Whilst the reader is not really expected to solve the mystery as they don’t know there is such a mystery until almost the very end which leaves little thinking time, some clues are there:

(1) Wargrave is the first character mentioned – only a small thing, but how often is the first character a killer (has anyone done any research on this?).

(2) His is the only invitation not extended by Mr or Mrs Owen. His response to an invitation from an old and vague acquaintance seems (in hindsight) weaker than that of the other seven guests.

(3) Before anything that odd has happened, he is the one who remarks that “there is a fly in the ointment” (see above).

(4) Wargrave is the one who heightens the terror by declaring that one them must be Owen.

(5) Lombard says that Wargrave may have decided to move on from being judge to become jury and executioner, which Wargrave admits to in his confession.

(6) Before breakfast on the third day we witness first the conversation between Lombard and Blore followed by the conversation between Miss Brent and Vera. This implies that there has been the possibility for Armstrong and Wargrave to have talked. At breakfast we see their thoughts of which one is “the damned fool, he believed every word I said to him” which could relate to that possible conversation.

(7) Armstrong keeps the others back when he examines Wargrave’s body. We are told that he feels for a pulse but not what the result is.

(8) Vera recognises the red herring from the poem and applies it to Armstrong’s disappearance. When his body is found she does not revisit the idea and switch it around.

I have seen criticisms that the murderer here gets all the luck and there are a couple of key points of unlikelihood – why does Lombard leave his revolver in his room – surely he would have had it on him at all times? When moving Wargrave’s body wouldn’t the others have realised he was alive?Although they are in a state of mind where they are expecting to discover more corpses and the doctor has pronounced that he is dead. However I feel that Wargrave gets all the good luck in return for the bad luck visited on Christie’s other killers e.g. Hercule Poirot gets the last berth on the Orient Express because he knows the managing director and then a snow storm halts the train or the window blind goes up just as the 4.50 from Paddington is passing and the adjacent compartment is occupied by a friend of Miss Marple’s.

I was struck by the fact that we get to see the thoughts of the eight guests but not those of the two servants – was Christie deliberately partially observing the rules by not involving them as potential murderers?

Going back to the 2015 TV adaptation, I can understand to some extent why from a dramatic perspective we see Wargrave give his confession to Vera as she is about to kick away the chair, but his suicide should still have been staged as per the book to show that an impossible crime scene would have been left behind.

I recently came across Ho-Ling’s review of a Japanese adaptation which shows the events on the island followed by the police investigation. To save the time of decoding his interesting, but minor spoiler, paste it into here.

In the stage play neither Vera nor Lombard are guilty of the crimes they are accused of (it is Hugo who allows his nephew to swim to the rock and Lombard left the natives with the supplies and tried to get help for them). Vera, as a woman, can’t shoot straight (Lombard’s words), and so he is only wounded and shoots the judge as he is trying to kill Vera.

Before reading the play I had the idea that Lombard’s place had been taken by a friend, and so it was the friend who was not guilty instead. I think I must have got that from the Choose Your Own Adventure, but it would have been a very Christie type thing to happen, where identities are often deliberately confused.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Smallbone Deceased by Michael Gilbert (1950)

Having enjoyed Gilbert’s short stories which have appeared in the BLCC anthologies, particularly “Cousin Once Removed” from “Resorting to Murder”, and knowing the reputation of this book, I was very excited to see it and two others by the same author appear in the BLCC schedule almost a year ago.

The recently deceased Abel Horniman, former lead partner of the law firm Horniman, Birley and Craine, as well as being a great lawyer was also an administrative genius having created a filing system that is second to none and a patent dust-proof, moisture-proof, air-proof and most importantly mouse-proof deed box. Whilst the latter are excellent for protecting clients’ documents someone has also figured out that one would make a good hiding place for a corpse as when the Stokes Will Trust box is opened, the last remaining trustee is found within it having been there for some weeks.

Henry Bohun, as a brand new member of the firm, is immediately discounted as a suspect and is used by Inspector Hazlerigg as his inside man, which combined with the well realised workplace setting, made it reminiscent of Murder Must Advertise by Dorothy L. Sayers.

The writing style is not laugh out loud funny, but kept a wry smile on my lips with descriptions such as:

“The Reverend Eustace, a vast red man who had taken his college eight to the head of the river in ’08, sinking outright two of the four boats which stood in his way, and had been treating the powers of darkness in the same summary manner ever since, welcomed Sergeant Plumptree with a paralysing handshake and invited him round to a cup of cocoa.”

And then just a little later on the same character says:

“I can’t think why people should glorify beer at the expense of cocoa. It was that hearty vulgarian, Chesterton, who started it…”

There is also a short discussion between Hazlerigg and Bohun on the differences between mystery fiction and real-life police work – score one on the GAD bingo card – and elsewhere an observation that everything should be wrapped up in chapter sixteen, in a book that has sixteen chapters!

Bohun has an interesting personal idiosyncrasy which enables part of the solution to be presented to him in a most unexpected manner and there is a fair division between his amateur sleuthing and Hazlerigg’s official investigation with both helping reveal the truth.

Overall it doesn’t quite live up to its exalted reputation, but only by a sliver, so I can definitely give this a good recommendation.

Vintage Mystery Challenge

Fulfils “Why – Has been reviewed by a fellow challenger” – see Rekha’s review at The Book Decoder here.

 

 

 

Hard Cheese by Ulf Durling (1971)

Pensioners Carl Bergman, Efraim Nylander, and Johan Lundgren meet weekly to discuss detective fiction ranging from Queen and Carr and their GAD brethren to the more modern Highsmith and Bingham. Each takes it in turn to present the details of a book which the other two must then attempt to solve.

This week Carl deviates from the usual formula by introducing a real-life case that has just taken place in their small town. The details have been provided by his police sergeant son, Gunnar. As they start to discuss what has happened they realise they are dealing with a locked room mystery!

“We looked at each other, amazed and dumbfounded. It reminded me of one Christmas Eve when, as a child, I looked in disbelief at a set of tin soldiers I had dreamed about but never dared hope for.”

During the evening they draw a number of conclusions from the evidence and go so far as to reconnoitre the crime scene to put some of them to the test. Satisfied with their good work, Johan writes up their findings and sends them to Bergman Jr.

He is not at all impressed with their ideas or interference and presents an account of the official investigation. Though some of the police work is lackadaisical, he believes that he has cracked the case.

And yet it is only when we move onto a third narrator that the truth is fully revealed.

I bought this particular LRI title because of the book group discussion element and I have said before that I love this style of mystery. Lundgren is an unintentionally comic narrator and the police sergeant’s narrative reveals some deliberate gaps in the former’s report and had me laughing out loud with a delayed punchline for at least half the book.  Gunnar’s account is deliberately comic in tone, although his attempts to be a Chandleresque cynical hardman are somewhat undermined by domestic incidents that will strike a chord with parents everywhere.

I thought I was getting towards a solution, but whether this was a deliberate deception or I was being too clever for my own good I’m not sure. The solution is very clever, although almost all readers would struggle to solve it fully themselves.

That however did not matter to me. This is both homage and a Berkeleyian style send-up of the Golden Age Mystery with references such as:

“I won’t burden you with detailed timetables – if you find that kind of thing interesting, pick up any book by Freeman Wills Croft.”

It is possible that this book is Durling’s riposte to the Martin Beck series of police procedurals by Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö (godparents of Scandi-noir) which were trying to make serious points about Swedish society, although they had their own share of comic relief with incompetent patrol car duo Kvant and Kristiansson.

Incidentally, from the translation I am forced to conclude that the Swedish for humour and grey (or some other colour) must be very similar as one lady is described as “humour-haired” and one man as  having “humour hair, a humour moustache, and wearing a humourish-brown striped suit”. Alternatively this may be a printing idiosyncracy similar to the one in “Come to Paddington Fair” which rendered the “m” of “matinée” as a small square on each appearance – which was relatively frequent for a book set in a theatre!

NB: Spoilers of varying degrees are given for Crooked House, The Red House Mystery, and The Tragedy of Y.

 

 

 

 

Dine with Murder by Michael Halliday (1950)

I picked this up from a charity shop a year ago with a view to this year’s Vintage Mystery Challenge as I had never heard of the author and the risk at 50p was minimal. Looking on Wikipedia I found that Michael Halliday was one of the 20+ pseudonyms of John Creasey, who churned out over 600 novels over forty years.

Jim Abbott is reluctant to attend his company’s Annual Dinner and Dance because he is due to give a speech praising his boss, Sir Henry Moffat who he doesn’t really like. Having got blood from a shaving cut on his dress shirt he is ready to call the whole thing off until he is helped out by Moffat’s secretary, Hetty Lane, and a new neighbour from the flat downstairs.

The evening goes well enough until Abbott is saved from delivering his speech when Sir Henry collapses during his own address. An hour later he is dead from strychnine poisoning and soon Abbott finds himself a primary suspect in a murder case.

This is definitely a thriller rather than a fair-play mystery as Abbott survives multiple attacks and has to determine who he can trust, particularly regarding his new neighbour who has secrets of her own.

Not a particularly good book, but an interesting reference to “an over-stocked larder, with far more food than you’d expect to find in one person’s cupboard in such austere times. A tin of biscuits, labelled by a famous maker, was a pre-war sight.” A reminder that rationing of some items in the UK continued until as late as 1954.

Vintage Mystery Challenge

Fulfils “Why – Out of your comfort zone”.

 

 

 

A Crime in Rhyme

A couple of months ago I was browsing some backposts at The Invisible Event and came across JJ’s celebration of John Dickson Carr 110th birthday which led me to Brad’s contribution at ahsweetmysteryblog which contained the challenge to complete a GAD mystery poem.

Being too nervous to watch Trump (Judd, not Donald) possibly throw away a massive lead in the World Snooker Championship, I set my mind on a task that no one had tried in the previous two and a half years, the results are below, the dotted line indicates where Brad left off and I continued. I hope you enjoy!

Lord Burlington Brown

Was a man of renown,

Finding modern age devils

And hunting them down.

 

“Evil lurks,” so he said.

“I have stalked the undead!

I’ve seen sights that would fill

Any mortal with dread!”

 

At his club he held court.

And although he was short,

He weighed full twenty stone

And would not give up port.

 

There he sat like a whale,

And each member regale

With his exploits so grim

That the others turned pale.

 

Though one man you could tell

Thought the stories were swell

‘Twas Lord Burlington’s pal,

Dr. Gideon Fell.

 

“Good Lord, Brown!” Fell would say,

“I admire the way

You dispatched twenty zombies

Ere night turned to day.

 

“Now please tell me again

How you drew up the plan

To lay waste to the werewolf

Who walked like a man.”

 

“Listen, Fell,” said old Brown,

“No, sir, put your drink down,

And accompany me

Back to old Camden town.

 

“I’ve invited some friends

For a quiet weekend.

There’s a serious matter

To which I must attend.

 

“Would it give you a fright

If I told you outright

We’ll encounter the Devonshire

Vampire tonight?”

 

Fell let out a great wheeze

And cried, “Burlington, geez,

If you do know the Vampire

Then out with it, please!

 

If this isn’t a jest

And the Vampire’s your guest

Name him now! I’ll call Hadley

To make the arrest.”

 

“I will not name the ghoul.

Sorry, that is my rule.”

To which Fell simply spluttered,

“Brown, don’t be a fool!”

 

“I don’t think that I can

Quite accede to your plan

Till the last piece of evidence

Falls in my hand.

 

“With the skill of a lover

I’ll blow the fiend’s cover

By tomorrow at midnight

I’ll hand the man over!”

 

Thus, with feelings of dread,

Dr. Fell shook his head

For he sensed by tomorrow

His friend would be dead.

 

And he knew by the time

We were half through this rhyme

That he’d soon have to face

An impossible crime!

*     *     *     *     *

Fell repaired to Brown’s manse

By the seat of his pants.

He would capture the Strangler

If given the chance.

 

But his train journey led

To a dark night of dread

For the lord of the manor

Fell soon learned was dead.

 

In a hut in the wood

In that same neighborhood

They discovered Lord Burlington

Finished for good.

 

In a chair he was sittin’,

His throat had been bitten,

And the door was too small

For the late Lord to fit in.

 

And standing outside

Of this strange homicide

Were four guests who insisted

They’d nothing to hide:

 

The dead man’s stepson Mark

His fiancée Miss Park

And two builders, both brothers,

Named John and Jim Park.

 

One of this fine quartet

Had killed Brown, Fell would bet.

Were they also the Vampire?

He wasn’t sure yet.

—————————

No more happened that night
Hadley arrived at first light
Fell met the early train
Then showed him the site.

“I still don’t yet know
How he entered so low?”
“It’s clear,” Hadley said,
There’s a big open window.”

Fell shook his great head
And angrily said
“Brad omitted that fact
We’ve all been misled.”

There was a sound in the trees
Fell started to wheeze
Something dropped from above
They all fell to their knees.

Three shapes most assorted
With faces weirdly distorted
A trio not of this world
And so Fell retorted:

“We have been taken for fools,
Someone’s broken Knox’ rules.
This place is haunted.
He was killed by some ghouls!”

“Get back to hell!”
Bellowed Gideon Fell.
The three disappeared
To where, no one can tell.

You may say it’s unfair
But I really don’t care
As with Death Watch
Much good is still there.

If you can come up with a genuine fairplay solution then please let me know.

The Siamese Twin Mystery by Ellery Queen (1933)

Ellery and Inspector Queen are returning cross-country from a holiday when a forest fire forces them up a mountain to seek shelter. They meet another car coming down but despite their warning the driver presses on. Finally they arrive at the mountain top and find what initially seems to be a deserted house. After much banging at the door they are welcomed in by Dr John Xavier who introduces the Queens to his wife, brother, assistant, and a lady guest. There is a tension in the air and this is not helped when the Inspector briefly glimpses a strange Thing in a corridor.

Having gone to bed fully expecting the fire to be dealt with by the authorities, father and son instead wake up to a corpse with a clue in its dead hand, and the realisation that the flames may engulf them, if a killer doesn’t get to them first…

It is one thing to be trapped on an island or to be snowed in with a killer because at least you can try to take precautions whilst awaiting rescue. In this scenario physical room for manoeuvre becomes increasingly more difficult and the suffocating heat is not conducive to clear thought. It definitely makes me glad to live in a place where such a conflagration is unlikely when such tragedies appear to be coming more frequent in Australia and the USA.

I fell into most of the traps that Queen lays for the reader and the solution was definitely a surprise to me.

Again, this was an example of where a chronogical reading of the entire GAD canon would be advantageous because by chance I recently read a book – not reviewed on the blog – that must have been inspired by this story.