Sleep, My Love

Mr. Thrilling and I were trying to come up with something to watch the other night. We’ve got two Netflix discs of The Hour sitting here, but I wasn’t in the mood. Anyway, we couldn’t agree on anything to rent, so back we headed to our Netflix Instant Queue and low and behold I spotted a film I’d tucked aside for a rainy day. Or night.

Sleep, My Love is a 1948 psychological thriller starring Claudette Colbert, Bob Cummings, and Don Ameche. To Mr. Thrilling’s and my own great delight we’d neither of us seen it and it turned out to be pretty good!

Allie Courtland wakes on a train in the middle of the night and she can’t remember how she got there or where she’s supposed to be headed. Her last memory is of wishing her husband goodnight. She promptly throws a hysterical fit, which I guess is not entirely unreasonable, though I found it annoying. Eventually she calls her husband, Richard, who has already summoned the police.

Only the slowest of viewers will not instantly recognize that Richard is trying to work a gaslight on poor Allie. He claims she’s been sleepwalking for a while now and that the previous night she stole his gun, shot him, and ran away.

Irritatingly, Alison buys this without a quibble. Really? If Mr. Thrilling accused me of any of this without more evidence than a gun in my bag and a sleeper berth on a train, I would have more than a quibble. He’d be lucky if I didn’t shoot him for reals on the spot. Of course that’s because I have a suspicious nature and was weaned on crime fiction. Apparently Allie missed Gaslight when the remake came out in 1944.

Anyway, Allie agrees to see a shrink and so this very creepy bespectacled and mustachioed weirdo shows up and proceeds to freak her out by leering at her and scratching the upholstery and fiddling with the fireplace poker. It unsurprisingly results in another bout of hysterics and a dead faint.

Meanwhile, Bruce, a charming young man she met on the original train, and who was not one whit put off by all signs pointing to Allie having Issues, shows up and begins to get instantly suspicious. Everyone keeps saying how wholesome and healthy and well-balanced Allie is, and that just doesn’t jibe with her husband’s tales of sleepwalking wackiness. Besides, Bruce fell for Allie the second he saw her.

Anyway, Richard hopes to use Bruce to help prove Allie is suicidally unstable, so he lets Bruce escort Allie to a party – instead Bruce takes her to a Chinese wedding -- and then the fun really begins!

This is a great little period piece – all the more charming for a few unexpected touches like Bruce’s Chinese adopted brother, and Richard having to dose himself to prove to Allie he's not drugging her cocoa, and crazy bad girl Daphne's endless supply of lingerie and venom. Smooth performances on the part of all the players help pull it off.

Little Slices of Death

Where was I?

Oh yes. Well...to briefly condense the last few years, my writing career took off in a wildly unexpected direction, I wrote a zillion stories, found I could make a decent living writing fiction I am passionate about (oh yes, it does indeed happen), found I couldn't even pretend to keep up with Diana Killian...and let myself drop off the map.

I fell asleep for a thousand years.

That's how it feels anyway. And, to be perfectly honest, I don't know that I want to be on the map anymore; I doubt I will ever have the kind of spare time I had way back when my writing career was first taking off, but I thought I would perhaps go back to chattering about vintage movies and vintage mysteries on an irregular basis. I really don't have any other outlet for such bloggings and yet I'm every bit as compulsive about buying old books and watching old films as I ever was. THAT is one thing that has never changed. Never will, I suppose.

So I've pushed the button and made Girl-Detective live again and every couple of weeks or so I'll share what I'm reading or viewing.

Nothing formal, nothing structured, just...as the mood takes me.  You are welcome to stop by and read along as the mood takes you.


What I cannot seem to adjust to are the changes in blogger. Ack! The templates just don't seem to go with my Girl Detective theme. The words on a page background was too...wordy. I was finally torn between this nice dark brown map background and the pink hummingbirds. Maybe I'll go dark for autumn and stay pink for summer. I'm rather attached to pink. And hummingbirds.

As for the rest of it, I'm still happily married to Mr. Thrilling. (Ha! They said it would never last!) Yes, I wrote a fourth book in the Poetic Death series -- Docketful of Poesy -- I wrote four books in the Mantra for Murder series, and yes both series do eventually need to be wrapped up, and I do have the best intentions of getting around to that one of these days. But it's unlikely (in either case) to be before 2014. And no promises for 2014.

I've started a regular blog for newsy type updates and thoughts, but posts there will likely be even more sporadic than posts here!

Pinkerton’s Secret and The First Female Detective

This month I thought we'd do something a little different at Girl Detective, and invite author Eric Lerner to tell us a little about his new book Pinkerton's Secret featuring the woman Lerner refers to as America's first female detective: Kate Warne.



Ten years ago, while browsing the new arrivals shelf at my public library, I spotted a biography of Allan Pinkerton. The name conjured up images of wraiths in long black coats hunting down Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and crushing striking steel workers in Homestead, Pennsylvania.

What I discovered instead was a man who contradicted the myths, but whose life created one of those tantalizing historical mysteries that can only be unraveled in the imaginative realm of fiction.
Pinkerton, I learned, was not just America’s original Private Eye, nabbing forgers, railroad thieves, and confidence men, he was a political radical who had fought for the rights of working men and women in his native Scotland, and then became passionately involved in Abolitionism when he arrived in America. In the 1850’s his home in Chicago was a station on the Underground Railroad, and he counted John Brown and Frederick Douglass among his close friends. On Abraham Lincoln’s railway journey to his inauguration in 1861, Pinkerton saved the president-elect from an assassination plot in Baltimore. During the Civil War, he established the first Secret Service, hunting down rebel spies in Washington and sending his agents behind Confederate lines.

In all of these adventures, the biographer informed me, Allan Pinkerton was ably assisted by Mrs. Kate Warne, the first female detective, whom he’d hired when he first started his detective agency in 1856. The biographer assured me that despite the rumors at the time, Pinkerton’s relationship to the “attractive widow” was strictly professional.

Strictly professional?

When I stopped laughing, I realized I might have a great story.
I read all the other biographies of Pinkerton, as well as Allan’s own, Reminiscences, written near the end of his life. In it he described Kate Warne as a widow of twenty-three, “a slender, brown-haired woman, graceful in her movements and self-possessed. Her features, although not what could be called handsome, were decidedly of an intellectual cast...her face was honest, which would cause one in distress instinctively to select her as a confidant.” Describing her as a detective, he wrote, “she succeeded far beyond my utmost expectations. Mrs. Warne never let me down.”

Hmmmm.

I obtained a rare copy of Kate Warne’s actual logbooks, recounting how she accompanied Lincoln on the secret train from Philadelphia to thwart the Baltimore assassins. But I couldn’t find any clue to an involvement between Pinkerton and the female detective that wasn’t strictly professional..

Then I carefully re-read Pinkerton’s own autobiographical account of his exploits in the Civil War, The Spy of the Rebellion. In it he records Kate’s role in the Baltimore plot, but she seems to exit the scene at the outset of the Civil War, when he left his wife and family behind in Chicago to return to Washington for eighteen months to set up the first Secret Service. Except her name casually pops up later in his account, when he snares the famous Confederate spy, Rose Greenhow, aided by Mrs. Warne’s forgery of Rose’s letters. So Kate was with him in Washington the whole time!

Then I came upon a photo of Pinkerton’s grave. Buried on one side is his wife, and on the other, just over his shoulder, Kate Warne rests for all eternity. None of his biographers had mentioned that fact.

I began to wonder if the novelist does not have a better opportunity than the historian does to uncover certain truths that are buried in the available documents known as the historical record. As a writer of fiction I could easily imagine that Allan Pinkerton, a detective by profession who literally invented the modus operandi of investigative disguises, would go to great lengths to disguise himself in order to protect his professional reputation while he was alive as well as for posterity.

As I reread over and over Pinkerton’s accounts of his own exploits, and the biographies that drew strongly on his accounts, I put together a chronology of Allan Pinkerton and Kate Warne’s whereabouts during the period of two years when Pinkerton’s exploits became the stuff of legend. They were side by side for the whole time. Moreover, it was clear to me that Pinkerton faced enormous opposition from clients, many of his male employees, and members of his own family for employing Kate Warne as well as an entire bureau of female detectives under her direction, who posed as everything from fortune tellers to heiresses in Pinkerton’s undercover operations to nab crooks.

The story that emerged in my mind was not just about the nature of the real relationship between Allan and Kate, but the nature of their deception. This was a story that could only be constructed in fiction, because the real life protagonists had constructed a fiction of their own to hide their actions from the world.

Once I had the plot of this story, I was faced with the challenge of how to tell it. For me, every novel is a unique universe whose internal rules don’t have to conform to any other universe, but have to be entirely consistent within itself. For reasons I can’t quite explain, even though the events in Pinkerton’s life are not well known, I found myself bound to the real historical occurrences. If Pinkerton actually got on a train from Baltimore to New York City in February of 1861, accompanied by Kate Warne, to warn Lincoln of the impending attack on his life, then Allan and Kate had to take that train in my novel.

But what occurred between them on that train?

There is no historical account left by either one of them. It is a blank space. The blank spaces I identified were the places where I could construct my characters, where the words, thoughts and motivations of Pinkerton and Kate Warne could take shape. It took me a full decade to work through the several versions and many drafts of the novel until I completed the final one with a great editor, Jack Macrae at Henry Holt & Co. If you want to check out an intriguing representation of the novel in words and images, click on the title link above this article.

THE STRANGE BEDFELLOW

I can't remember where I heard of Evelyn Berckman; she must have been recommended to me by a visitor to Girl Detective. Anyway, I mentioned her in passing to Mr. Thrilling, and I was lucky enough to get two of Berckman's novels for Christmas.

The Hovering Darkness, Ace Books, 1957.

Denise Gilbert sailed for England aboard the luxury liner Queen Alexandra all unaware that she sailed in company with terror. (I hope they aren't sharing one of those really little cabins!) For her fellow passengers included a wealthy young couple fleeing with their child from a vicious kidnap plot.

Uh oh. I'm not a fan of child in jeopardy. Still, we'll give it a shot. According to the cover: "One of Miss Berckman's fine, luscious, romantic scarers...it sweeps you right along." That does sound like fun!

First line: "The girl with the milk-white skin, and the cap of hair that looked like soft beaten gold, had to stand in line only a very short time, for there were very few passengers this time of year."

Definitely romantic-suspense. We can tell by the milk-white skin and hair of soft beaten gold.

And then we have the deliciously titled The Strange Bedfellow. Dell, 1956.

"A search for a legendary gem uncovers a terrifying secret from the past, with deadly links to the present."

I do so love terrifying secrets from the past with deadly links to the present, and better yet, this is about archeology!

It is the dream of every archeologist to discover something, (well...yes) to unearth some long-lost jewel that will set the literate of two continents buzzing. (Is this jewel a real jewel or are we talking about a jewel of a find?) For Martha Haven, the legendary Kali's Eye Ruby became that beckoning lure -- that single haunting obsession which she must pursue.

I like Martha. She sounds like me. Obsessive-compulsive. But with more fresh air in her life.

For how could she know that, in uncovering the ancient jewel, she would let loose a dark secret from the buried past -- a secret that could destroy her future?

Oooh. I like this.

First line: "The letter had been on her desk at the museum that morning."

I like that start too.

Anyone familiar with Berckman?

Thank God it's MONDAY!

Just taking a moment to appreciate the fact that it's Monday morning and...I'm home writing! Yes, when you love what you do for a living, it makes all the difference in the world. I don't mind getting up at 5:30 -- even though it's dark and cold -- because I'm stumbling off to write. Or as close as I can get to it before the caffeine kicks in.

Have I shown you my new book cover yet? (Probably -- but I got the cover flats last week, and they're so cute! It's not just me, right?)

Hope you're enjoying your Monday -- only two weeks left 'til Christmas!

STONE COLD DEAD IN THE MARKET

No, I'm not talking about my writing and publishing career, although sometimes I do wonder. No, I'm looking at the small -- very small, although they felt like cement blocks when I was racing through the airport and customs -- stash of books I brought back from Ireland.

I admit I'd hoped to spend more time in bookstores. Not that I'm complaining because it was quite simply the best vacation I've ever had, but I'd hoped to discover a few more literary gems scattered along the way.

STONE COLD DEAD IN THE MARKET by Christopher Landon. Great Pan, 1955.

I'd never heard of Christopher Landon, so I did a little internet search and came up with this:

"Christopher Landon served with the 51st Field Ambulance in North Africa during WWII. After the war he wrote several novels, including A Flag in the City, Stone Cold Dead in the Market, and Hornet's nest. His most famous novel, however, was Ice Cold in Alex, which was made into an internationally famous movie, starring John Mills."

Weeellll, possibly not internationally famous...

From the back cover:

POISON!

Hubert Greezley -- stockbroker -- has met a death bizarre and horrible.

Lemme guess. Poison?

Post-mortem confirms MURDER -- by strychnine!

No!

They all saw it happen. They all hated him -- and several of them had a motive for the killing.

I hate to say this, but the most bizarre and horrible thing so far is Hubert's name. Murder by poison just doesn't seem that shocking. Or am I just horribly hardened by the crime fiction I've had to endure?

But no one had touched him.

Well, it was in his drink for cryin' out loud! Or his supper! How many killers rub poison into their victims. Come on!

TREWIN had motive to kill his Uncle Hubert, motive so strong that he would stop at nothing...not even murder.

Okay, so it wasn't Trewin.

But TREWIN had a cast-iron alibi.

Why are you yelling at poor Trewin? Are you being saracastic?

This cold-blooded crime defies solution.

Jeez. Don't give up so easily. It's only the back cover.

First line: "When you left the street and passed through the outer lobby, the first thing confronting you was a pair of swing doors."

Ah, second person POV. Don't YOU love it?

THE UNHEEDING STARS by Marjorie Vernon. Hardback, Ward Lock, 1967.

I hadn't heard of Marjorie Vernon either, but the cover -- a nervous-looking woman wearing a headscarf, and standing in a foreign-city-looking dark alley with one of those enigmatic stalwart guys in a trench coat -- reminded me of the novels my mom used to buy by the barrel when I was a tyke.

A quick Internet search didn't turn anything up, but the inside cover lists 29 titles followed by the word "etc." Which seems a bit rude, if you ask me. Granted the titles are things like Tender Tigress, The Impossible Love, etc.

Ooops.

So romance, in other words. Not an alien concept, despite what Mr. Thrilling says.

The back of the cover lists more unheard of Ward Lock novels like...Lantana, Dark Moon of Summer, Night of the Helm Wind. I'm thinking romantic-suspense of the old school, which is hopefully what The Unheeding Stars will turn out to be.

Nicola went to Corsica to visit Jean-Paul, the man she hoped to marry -- only to find he was not there to meet her. Instead she found his brother, the dark domineering Raoul, later described to her as a "ruthless and dangerous man."

By whom? The people at Mills & Boon, because that's what this sounds like.

What was the mystery behind Jean-Paul's disappearance?

Someone has been conducting experiments in the swamp with alligators, I'm telling you!

Why didn't he even write to her?

Have you ever seen an alligator's paw? How would he hold a pen?

Very soon Nicola began to suspect thre was something sinister about it all, especially when she saw Raoul going out stealthily in the midnight hours, and when he lied to her about a wound he received.

What did I tell you? It's a funny-shaped bite mark, isn't it?

It made matters even more difficult for Nicola that Raoul was magnetically attractive. He was her enemy -- she feared he was even his brother's enemy, yet she still felt herself irresistibly drawn to him. However her loyalty was to Jean-Paul. She felt sure he was in need of help, and she must help him.

But how --?

Small, still-warm animals, Nicola. Believe me, kiddo, your attraction to Raoul will simplify things in the end.

First line: "The little bus clattered to a jerky halt on cobblestones, and the fact that its few passengers all gathered together and prepared to descend indicated to Nicola that this was the terminus."

She doesn't miss much, does she?

Well, let's leave Nicola and those funny-shaped footprints in the night....

THERE'S ALWAYS A PAYOFF by Robert P. Hansen. An American Blood Hound mystery from T.V. Boardman & Company, 1960.

A few other titles listed as collectible at Amazon, etc., but no real info on my initial search.

"Ed Shields, commercial diver in a small California fishing town was facing the unpleasant decision of either seeking asylum in the county jail -- with a murder charge that just might stick -- or luring a cold-blooded murderer into the open -- with himself as bait."

Hmmm. Has anyone spoken to Jean-Paul recently?

First line: "The rain was a very light drizzle."

Sounds pretty interesting, actually.

NOREEN AND THE HENRY AFFAIR by Helen Dawson. Children's Book Club, 1964.

This is part of a series about a plucky young female sleuth. This was the fifth book in the series.

Solving the Murder n New Moon Valley. Once again Noreen and her Aunt Joan are their cool, calm and collected selves...

Well, yeah, they're BRITISH.

...with their characteristically complementary virtues as dashing niece and cautious aunt.

I didn't realize dashing niece and cautious aunt were, like, job descriptions.

Noreen takes on the job of nursemaid to an Alsatian dog.

That's different!

She discovers that the animal has been heavily drugged, and subsequently uncovers a number of apparently unrelated incidents, including the hitherto unsolved murder of a gold prospector in the New Moon Valley -- a dark deed that happened years before.

Wow. A teen sleuth who solves a murder? That's different.

First line: "The wind had been blowing since early morning in whipping gusts across the plains from the north."

MISS AGATHA DOUBLES FOR DEATH

Well, it's been quite a while since I posted here. I have to admit I over-extended my blogging capabilities. And, really, how much of me can anyone take? But Girl-Detective is unique in that this is where I blab about vintage mysteries -- books and film -- and so I've decided to try and resume this one. At least in haphazard fashion.

I've actually got quite a number of books to chat about, although maybe I better start slow and build up my strength -- and yours.

I think I may have picked these books up at Bouchercon last year. I'm not sure now. The pickings were mighty slim at all of last year's conferences, and I may eventually have to resort to prowling Ebay again, although I hate to encourage that kind of behavior in myself -- and others.

Today's hoarde includes:

MISS AGATHA DOUBLES FOR DEATH by H.L.V. Fletcher. Bantam, 1948.

Muder woos a lovely heiress!

A lovely heiress named Agatha? How refreshing.

From the back of the book (in 2nd person POV, no less):

You're an heiress! But that doesn't matter much.

(Uh, yes it does. It would to me. I need the dough.)

What's more important, you're lovely to look at, men like you -- they can't resist your easy grace, your deep hazel eyes. And you want to live!

(And you want to use exclamation points with wild abandon! But at least you've got your priorities straight, Agatha!)

You've come all the way from London to see your last surviving female relative, Miss Agatha, in her lavish West Virgina home. Will she believe this is just a social call -- or will she see the mark of fear in your eyes?

(Oh, okay. Agatha is not the beautiful young heiress. She's more likely to be the repressed and ailing spinster heiress. And you, apparently, are her scheming, exclamation point-abusing, only living relative -- with mascara smudges no less.)

Will she help you? Or will she be like another, like Stephen, ready and willing to help you die?

(Who the heck is Stephen? I hope you don't plan on tracking Stephen all over Aunt Aggie's nice clean Aubusson carpets!)

First line: "If the world showed any inclination to add to its original Seven Wonders, the town of Hughesville, Hughes County, state of West Virginia would have no hesitation in putting forward two candidates."

I'm betting one of them is Aunt Agatha, how about you?

But you know, this sounds better than I thought. According to the blurb on the front cover, Ann Hughes (sorry, lovely Ann Hughes -- we can take that for granted, right? -- has run to Aunt Agatha for help, and apparently the old dame has a lot of brilliant ideas). That sounds quite promising.

THE BRIDAL BED MURDERS by A.E. Martin, Dell 1954.

Death goes on a honeymoon...

Ah, young love. How sweet.

RIGHT THIS WAY, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

(My goodness, apparently Death is selling tickets to his honeymoon.)

See the treacherous Chinese Bridal Bed! In this very bed, the most beautiful maiden in all China was strangled for her infidelities!

(Okay, I'm just trying to keep the furniture straight -- did the most beautiful maiden also commit the infidelities in her bridal bed or was she merely strangled there? "All her infidelities." She does sound like a busy maid -- like someone in a folk song.)

To sleep in this bed is to die! Yet here tonight, you will see a beautiful woman defy the most sinister superstitions of the Orient! Before your very eyes, see the woman in the bed of horror!

(Is that a typo? Should that properly be "bed of whore?" Not sure. Also not sure why honorable I am apparently spending night with this woman. We don't have to sleep together, do we? She doesn't snore, does she?)

It was a carnival barker's dream, a phony Chinese bed and a parcel of fake superstitions. And the suckers were falling for it big.

(Fake superstitions? Versus the real ones?)

Clad in her nightgown, the actress disappeared behind the curtain.

(Hey! I didn't pay no money for no actress to disappear behind no curtain!)

Her scream, piercing the night, was perfect.

There was only one gimmick. She was really dead.

(Now would you call that a "gimmick" or a "problem"? I'm leaning towards "problem," myself.)

First line: "Anna Svensk picked up the spray which always made her think of a bicycle pump and dipped the end in the bucket of diluted Eau-de-Cologne."

Oh dear. Tell me this is not the woman I'm spending the night with!

THE GOLDFISH MURDERS by Will Mitchell, Gold Medal Book, 1950

Meet a cop who can trap a killer or bait a beauty.

Well, I mean I guess those are useful skills for law enforcement.

Chris Lash had seen a lot of corpses in his years as Lieutenant of Dectives in Homicide, but never one as beautiful as the blonde with a goldfish on her chest.

(Interesting. I'm going to assume that we're not talking about a goldfish bowl on her chest of drawers, or her kinky tattoo.)

But that was only the beginning, as more goldfish were found on more corpses.

(So we've got kind of a hardboiled meets wacky amateur-sleuth-type-clues going on here. Interesting.)

And Chris swore that he would solve the murders if it cost him his own life.

(Why's he taking this so personally? Is he a member of PETA or what? What's his stake in the goldfish game?)

It nearly did...

(Well, heck! Give it away why don't you? Now we know Chris is the one that got away.)

First line: "My pop used to say that a good detective remembers to keep the Sabbath day holy -- wholly occupied in using his eyes and ears."

HA.

Hmmm. You never know. Very fishy looking blonde on the cover, by the way.

Coming Soon to a Theatre Near YOU!

5th Annual Meet the Local Author Program. Author panel: Dorothy Howell, Diana Killian, Lynn Gardner, Edward Mooney, Jr., Elaine Schneider, Dennis Anderson, Bonnie Stone, Ann Vanino, Rynda Thomas, Marilyn Dalrymple, and Pat Arnold.

Come discuss writing & publishing with your favorite authors!

Held On: Sat, 10/20/2007

Time: 2:00 p.m. - 4:00 p.m.

Address:
Lancaster Regional Library601 W. Lancaster Blvd.Lancaster, CA 93534-3398

Phone: (661) 948-5029

Contact: Fannie Love

Sponsor: Friends of the Lancaster Library/Walden Books

The Astonishing Adventure of Diana Killian

How time flies when you're tearing your hair out. The hair flies too, by the way.

It's been a fairly hectic few months. I've just completed the revisions on Corpse Pose, first book in the new yoga series due out from Berkeley in the spring. I admit I had a few doubts about this series -- it was so very different from the Poetic Death series, but it's turned out to be a lot of fun. For me anyway, and hopefully for readers.








And finally Docketful of Poesy, fourth book in the Poetic Death series has been contracted by Perseverance Press for Spring 09. To say I'm pleased is to put it mildly.

Sooo with all that going on, I haven't had much time for reading -- let alone posting about reading -- but I did manage to pick up a few finds both at Malice and Bouchercon. However, the coolest find of all was a gift from my friend Jan Giles.

I've posted a few times that I longed for a copy of Patricia Wentworth's very first (and extremely rare) novel THE ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH. Considering what copies of this book go for on ABE, I never expected to actually get hold of it. But Jan, whose generosity is only surpassed by her memory, happened across a copy in Bahrain where she lives.

She lugged this copy all the way to Malice as a gift for me. Talk about an astonishing adventure! Everytime Jan travels she has astonishing adventures -- but I digress.

Needless to say I was -- and still am, really -- thrilled beyond belief. And, no, I haven't had a chance to read it yet, which tells you how truly spread thin I am these days.

So...first line from THE ASTONISHING ADVENTURE OF JANE SMITH, Small, Maynard & Co., 1903.

The dining-room of Molloy's flat had not been built to receive twenty-five guests, but the delegates of twenty-five affiliated Organizations had been crowded into it. The unshaded electric light glared down on men of many types and nationalities. It did not flatter them.

I'm going on vacation in abut five minutes, and first on my reading list is TAAOJS. I shall let you all know how it turns out.

Jan also gave me copies of Mary Roberts Rinehart's THE CIRCULAR STAIRCASE and THE MAN IN LOWER TEN. I've read them both, but these are lovely old copies, and I'm delighted to have them. So again, thank you , Jan, most sincerely.

The only thing I bought myself at Malice worth mentioning was a hardbacked ominibus of David Frome's MR PINKERTON and INSPECTOR BULL. This contains Mr. Pinkerton Solves the Eel Pie Murders, Mr. Pinkerton Goes to Scotland Yard, and Mr. Pinkerton Finds a Body.

I already have two copies of Mr. Pinkerton Finds a Body, but I've been looking for the others for a while, so that was a treat.

First line of Mr. Pinkerton Solves the Eel Pie Murders:

It was July in London. The thermometer still registered 84 degrees at six o'clock.

Jolly good!

Anyway, when I get back from my two weeks of much-needed and hard-earned vacation, I'll post on my newest criminal passion: THE PROFESSIONALS. 1970s British crime drama at its best.

So you want to write a book...

Letters and Conversations

The Lancaster Museum/Art Gallery Associates are proud to present the first lecture in our 2007 series. Join us April 28 from 12:00 – 2:00 pm at the Lancaster Museum/Art Gallery for Letters and Conversations, the first of a three part series that explores the world of writing and publishing books in the modern age. The first lecture will be titled Planning, Writing and Developing Your Book. In this particular discussion, we are joined by four professional, published authors who will recount their personal experiences as well as methods of research, development, editing and evaluating your work. The event will be a panel discussion featuring award winning journalist and author of San Andreas Ain’t No Fault of Mine, Bonnie D. Stone; avid equestrian and author of Backyard Horsekeeping with an MFA from the Professional Writing Program at the University of Southern California, Joan Fry; author of the Devonie Lace series and screenwriter, Gina Cresse; and finally highly acclaimed mystery novelist and author of the Poetic Death Series, Diana Killian. These extremely skilled women represent several genres of the writing field including journalism, children’s books, fiction, nonfiction and screenwriting. If you are an amateur writer, an experienced writer looking to hone your skills, one looking to get published or simply one who loves to read, this event will have something for everyone.

In the first lecture, we will discuss writing your book but there is so much more involved in becoming a successful, published author that this first panel is only the beginning step in a process. Join us for the second lecture, entitled Publishing in which we will be discussing publishing, in all of its formats including self and web publishing as well as selling your book to publishing houses. Our third and final lecture in the Letters and Conversations series will be Marketing and Promoting Your Book. Writing a book doesn’t have to be a solitary battle; learn from professionals who have sold millions of books that can help you produce the best work that you can and learn about the resources available to you during the process. There will be no charge to attend any of the Letters and Conversations lectures and the events are open to the public. For more information, please email us or call the Lancaster Museum/Art Gallery.

Lancaster Museum/Art Gallery
44801 N Sierra Hwy
Lancaster, CA 93534
(661) 723-6250
lmagassociates@hotmail.com

Five Things You Never Knew About Me

And were probably afraid to ask.

So the talented and apparently merciless Karen MacInerney blog tagged me this morning. Today's subject: FIVE THINGS YOU NEVER KNEW ABOUT ME.

Hey, I'm guessing there's probably a lot about me you don't know. Of course there's also a lot about me that you can find out with some rudimentary digging, but, really, there are lots more worthy subjects for your digging. Why waste those detective skills on me?

1) Anyway, the first thing you might not know about me is that I am a huge fan of Samurai movies. I'm not kidding you. I've seen pretty much everything that's available on video and DVD. Yes, I love Kurosawa's films, but I'm especially partial to those off-beat and obscure black and white ones you sometimes come across.

2) I have a skull on top of the stack of magazines from the 1930s that sit on the armoire in my office. Okay, it's not a real skull, it's a replica. But it looks pretty cool.

DELETED :-)

4) I was secretly afraid of the Wicked Witch of the West until I was about 13. I know, it's embarrassing! She kind of looked like my grandmother...only green. And a lot more strict.

5) I met Mr. Thrilling (my esteemed lord and webmaster) on-line. He jokes that I get everything on the Internet, including my husbands.

Okay, I have to find some hapless victims of my own...

And my obliging victims are...Sara Rosett, who just received a KILLER review in Publisher's Weekly (yea, Sara!), the clever and always amusing Shelley McKibbon, AND my own Mr. Thrilling. You're IT, kids!

FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION

It's Agatha time again, and this year SONNET OF THE SPHINX is eligible for Best Novel. Unfortunately, Pocket did not send in copies of the book for consideration (WAIT! UPDATE: my lovely former editor at Pocket informs me that they DID faithfully send out the books, so scratch that last bit). Nonetheless, nomination largely (mostly?) relies on those of you actually attending the Malice Domestic Mystery Conference in May.






It turns out that many, if not most, of the nominations are based on write-in votes (the Agathas are truly fan-based awards), so if you've received your ballot but not yet voted, please keep SONNET OF THE SPHINX in mind.

AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT!

Just wanted to take a moment to wish you all the happiest and healthiest of holidays. May the coming new year bring you the things that truly matter--and if you haven't figured out what those things are, may the new year bring you that knowledge.

I happened to find this rather noirish Christmas poem and I thought I'd share it with you.

Open House


Queen Ivy and King Holly
Wait at the door to enter
Lord of the dark hills, the fir tree
Reigns in the Garden Centre
And the changeling Mistletoe

Come into the house
Whoever you are.

Dangerous padded parcels
A red man’s chancy load,
With riddled cores of crackers
Watch for their hour to explode
And the changeling Mistletoe

Come into the house
Whoever you are.

Black heart of the pudding,
Stuffed heart of the bird,
Green hearts of the brussels sprouts
Signal the holy word
Of ancestral Mistletoe

Come into this house
Whoever you are

Anonymous

An Invitation to Book Club Members

As those of you who follow Girl Detective know, I also blog on a couple of other sites: The Good Girls Kill For Money Club and the Cozy Chicks. Well, the Cozy Chicks are running a special holiday promotion for book club and reading group members. Please read below for details!


Dear Readers,

The Cozy Chicks want to welcome you into our worlds! We’re grateful that you’re following our lives on a personal note and our characters’ lives in our various books. To show our gratitude to you and because the season of giving is officially here we want to give you an opportunity to receive holiday baskets that include signed copies of our books! That’s right! Seven books by the Cozy Chicks!

We will be conducting a random drawing of twenty-five winners, to be announced on December 20th. Along with seven books from The Cozy Chicks, winners will also receive discussion questions that go along with each book. The intention here is for you as a winner/reader to spread the word to your book club(s) or to start up a book club. This will provide you with seven months worth of books to read and discuss! By running a Cozy Chicks book club you’ll receive added benefits such as recipe cards, bookmarks, and be the first to know when a new book is being released. We will also continue to change up discussion questions and send out recommendations of other great mysteries to check out.

Also, as an additional bonus, we would like to give you the opportunity to have us join you at your club. For example, if you’re reading one of Maggie Sefton’s books for the month of April, you can either 1. Have a personal visit to the club space, if your club is local 2. Have a phone with a speaker on it, so she can call in, or 3. Set up a web-cast where you can have ongoing dialogue with Maggie for the duration of the meeting where you can ask her questions about the book and her life as a writer. How many book clubs can say they’ve actually had the chance to pick the author’s brains? Now you and your club will have seven opportunities to do so!

We hope you get as excited about this offer as we are to bring it to you. Please take some time to visit all of our websites and check out our latest releases. Thank you and good luck at being one of the first twenty-five winners to receive seven books by the Cozy Chicks and run a Cozy Chicks Book Club.

Cheers and Happy Holidays!

The Cozy Chicks: Laura, Diana, Karen, Michele, Maggie, Jennifer and Heather

And Then There Were Four

I figured I would share four more vintage gems from my ever-growing collection. These were the remainder of the old books I picked up at Bouchercon.

DANGER IN PARADISE by Octavus Roy Cohen. Popular Library, 1944.

MURDER TRAILS A HUCKSTER!



So we have an alarmed-looking gentleman cowering behind a girl in a pink bathrobe, both of them facing the business-end of a gun. I'm hoping that the cowering gentleman is not the hero of the piece, Jimmy Drake.

From the back cover: Eight hours after Jimmy Drake welcomed back radio singer Iris Randall, home from a Cuban tour, and renewed his campaign to win her love, they were caught up in a vicious cycle of violence, intrigue and death. It all began with the murder of a nightclub own in Iris's apartment and the puzzling theft of a box of Havana cigars.

First lines: "Six gorgeous girls walked past the door of my office. One of them waved at me and said, "Hi, Jimmy!" and I said, "Hi, beautiful," absent-mindedly.

Smooth setting of scene and character, isn't it?

I have a number of books by Octavus Ray Cohen--I started one once, and was enjoying it, but I got distracted and somehow never picked it back up. Yet. It's funny how that sometimes happens even with books you're enjoying.

Wikipedia has a really incomplete and misleading entry on him. They don't mention his mystery writing, but that's what he's mostly known for. Jon Breen has better info , but as usual the best resource is Michael Grost's A GUIDE TO CLASSIC MYSTERY AND DETECTION.

Next up we have CHALLENGE FOR THREE by David Garth. Popular Library 1948.




"For twenty years Fontaine Shaw, granddaughter of Nathaniel Shaw, railroad and mining tycoon, had lived her life with reckless abandon."

Think about that reckless abandon stuff. Do you think it meant the same thing in 1948 that it means now? Not that anyone really talks much about reckless abandon these days. Maybe we're all living with reckless abandon--think about global warming and Nutrasweet and microwaves. Really doesn't get a lot more reckless than that.

Anyway, where was I? Oh, right. Fontaine Shaw. Fontaine is not a name that you hear much anymore either.

"But her startling exploits (we're talking about Fontaine again) began to catch up with her when she bailed a burlesque dancer out of Night Court and desposited her on the doorstep of Jock Pemberton, a serious young professor of American History at the Brent School."

Oh! This is going to be zany Bringing-Up-Baby madcappery--only, hopefully with violence and bloodshed!

First line: "The usual gay welter that followed the docking of a great transatlantic liner was rampant on the long steel pier--clusters of reunions, porters pirouetting their baggage trucks among the swirls of humanity, white-jacketed stewards streaming down the gangway from the overhanging shipside....zzzzzzzzz...."

Jeez, that's a long line. And still going and going and going...

(Sorry, Dave, you lost me at the pirouetting porters.)

Moving right along we have THE RED HOUSE by George Agnew Chamberlain. Popular Library, 1943.

DANGER IN THE DARK!



This I'm looking forward to, having seen the movie years and years ago. It's effectively creepy despite the fact that it's got the look and feel of one of those 1950s high school science films. In fact, the heroine and her love interest are high schoolers. It's got an eerie and poignant vibe to it, and the use of wind is really effective--fingers crossed that the book lives up the film.

Back jacket: "For fifty years fear of the vanishing red house in the Jersey Barrens had warped the lives of Ellen and Pete Yocum. Old Pete swore that the house moved from place to place and that the screams heard within it put a hex on anyone who ventured near. Meg Yarrow, raised by the Yocums since childhood, experienced the same terror until Nathan, the new farmhand, arrived. One day they started on a search for the red house in the Oxhead woods..."

Ooh! Looking forward to this.

First line: "The Pineys used to hog the whole of the lozenge between the Shore Road and the White House Pike."

Hmm. Apparently it's the foreign language version. Not to worry! I'm sure I'll figure it out.

Finally we have THE CAMERA CLUE by George Harmon Coxe, Dell,1947. (A Kent Murdock Mystery).





Murdock is a Boston news cameraman who gets involved in murder after murder. I have most of the series, although this is an especially nice copy. I even have the MRS. MURDOCK TAKES A CASE (courtesy of Mr. Thrilling last Christmas).

THINGS THIS MYSTERY IS ABOUT--
Two exposed PHOTOGRAPHIC PLATES...
An initialed COMPACT...
A used highball GLASS...
A package of indiscreet LETTERS...
A gigantic SANDWICH MAN...

WHAT???? A gigantic WHAT???

Anyhooo, first line: "A strange coat lay untidily across one arm of the divan, as though it had been flung there hurriedly; beside it, one end trailing on the floor, was a blue and white polka dot scarf."

I feel certain in a few sentences we are going to see someone's broken body, but for now, I must wish you a good evening and happy reading!

Autumn Leaves

It's been several months since I posted. I have to admit that trying to keep up with my weekly blogging duties on The Good Girls Kill For Money Club and the Cozy Chicks blog hasn't left a lot of time for my thoughts on books and films here at Girl Detective.

Truth be told, I haven't had a lot of time for reading, but that doesn't stop me from my intention of owning every vintage paperback in the world. I was a tiny bit disappointed with the pickings at Bouchercon this year--more and more the booksellers seem to focus on the latest book of the authors still alive and in attendance OR really expensive editions of Chandler and Hammett.

I did manage to score a few battered paperbacks for a reasonable amount. Reading copy quality, but since I do fully intend to read them, I can live with a few crinkles and watermarks. ON THE BOOKS!!! Not me.

So here are my finds du jour:

MURDERED: ONE BY ONE by Francis Beeding. No date. It says it is a Wartime book, and I'm certain they don't mean Iraq.





"The murder of Valerie Beauchamp, writer of romances, sets in motion a vicious cycle of horror as, one by one, the legatees under her strange will meet violent deaths in this exciting Beeding baffler!"

Even way back then romance writers were not getting any respect from mystery writers.

The New York Herald Tribune blurb reads "speed, complications and general readability," and delivers a "whopping surprise" in the last chapter.


Now that is not easy to do: deliver a whopping surprise in the last chapter, I mean. Especially to experienced mystery readers.

First line: "Valerie Beauchamp, alias Vera Brown--but the alias was carefully concealed from her numerous public--sat back in her chair and tapped her front teeth with the end of her fountain pen."

See? No respect.

One thing I know about Beeding: he (she?) was the author of THE HOUSE OF DR. EDWARDES, which was the basis of the movie SUSPICION, you know, with a very young and vulnerable-looking Gregory Peck and Ingrid Bergman (who even with bad hair and glasses looked impossibly gorgeous). I always wanted to read that, so this should be interesting.

By the way, it looks like the HOUSE OF DR EDWARDES is available as an ebook all over the net these days.

THE VOICE OF THE CORPSE by Max Murray. Bantam. 1948.

"DEAD OR ALIVE: she talked too much!"

I work with women like that.





"Angela Pewsey collected other peoples lives. She gathered them up in bits and snatches, from scraps of conversation, stolen letters, spying moments."

Ah. A blackmailer. One of the most satisfying victims in crime fiction. I do love it when blackmailers get knocked off. There's something so low about someone trading in other people's secrets.

First line: "Even in death there was something arty and crafty about Angela."

She gets knocked off singing a folk song--which many would say was poetic justice.

And your favorite motive for murder is--?

Murray was an Australian writer and this was his first novel. During WWII he was a scriptwriter and editor for the BBC. Looks like his last novel was 1957.

DEATH IS A LOVELY LADY by Ruth Fenisong. Popular Library, 1944. (Originally published under the title JENNY KISSED ME--not very mystery-sounding, that.)





"A novel with a startling different approach, filled with smart talk, cutting satire and a sound mystery puzzle."

Hmm. Dissing the genre as a sales tactic. Interesting.

"Gwen Mattice combined lush allure with a realistic capacity for getting what she wanted. But despite her many lovers she never lost sight of the great love of her life--herself!"

Okay, we hate her. Kill her.

First line: "This was the room of Gwen Mattice."

Okay, that's not enough.

"The careless testimony of scattered objects--a handbag, a slipper, a corsage ribbon, a reddened cigarette stub, a belt--was not needed to prove it."

Okay, she's messy. Kill her.

DEATH DOWN EAST by Eleanor Blake. Penguin, 1945.





No info whatsoever, I liked the title and the cover. (See, now you know why publishers don't let authors make these important decisions.) And it's set in Maine, which I also like.

First line: It was pretty awful sitting there in front of the fireplace and just waiting."

All of these have good opening lines, and I'm looking forward to the day I actually have an hour or two to read one!

What are you reading these days?

HOW NANCY DREW SAVED MY LIFE

This week's guest Girl Detective is Lauren Baratz-Logsted,
renowned blogger,
and talented author of the chick lit classic THE THIN PINK LINE
and the literary and erotic suspense novel VERTIGO (among others). In September, Lauren's HOW NANCY DREW SAVED MY LIFE will
be hitting bookshelves everywhere. As you can imagine, I've already
pre-ordered a copy.

===========================================================


A few years ago, an editorial by Maureen Dowd appeared in the New York Times.
It had to do with Osama bin Laden and a particular PDB (Presidential Daily Briefing). Ms. Dowd said we needed someone brash and intrepid like Nancy
Drew involved and wondered: Where had all the brash and intrepid people gone?

In my novel, How Nancy Drew Saved My Life, my heroine comes across
the same editorial. Charlotte Bell is twenty-three years old and heartbroken. A former TV commercial child star who turned to nannying as an adult, she’s spent
the last few years working in the home of U.S. Ambassador Buster Keating,
dealing with his awful wife and loving his two small children. Buster, over
time, convinced Charlotte that his wife didn’t really love him and that
he really loved her, meaning Charlotte. But a brief pregnancy scare put
the lie to that fantasy. In the aftermath, Charlotte moves back in with
her aunt. When she reads Ms. Dowd’s editorial, she becomes obsessed
with Nancy Drew.





Charlotte, growing up, was, like me, more of a Trixie Belden girl.
But, inspired by the editorial, she goes to the local bookstore and on
an impulse buys all 56 volumes of the original Nancy Drew series. She reads
them all and realizes that Nancy, 18 when the series starts, is still 18 when
the series ends. Doing the math, she further realizes that Nancy Drew solved mysteries at the rate of one every 6.5178571 days – a pretty intimidating
figure!

It’s easy to poke fun at Nancy Drew and Charlotte certainly does.
To say Nancy had an overactive imagination is an understatement. Seeing
a truck driving a little too fast, Nancy would be quick to assume, “I
wonder if those men are furniture thieves?” Finding an injured carrier
pigeon, she knows all about how carrier pigeons work and what it all has
to do with Mexico. And don’t get me started on the food! Nancy Drew consumes
such huge meals, with references like “Hannah put a tray of steaming meats
on the table,” that the reader has to wonder, with Nancy’s waist, if
perhaps the girl detective wasn’t just a lit-tle bit bulimic?

But, of course, we only make fun of that which we adore. There’s a
good reason why Nancy Drew – in the original books and in all the myriad incarnations since – has survived in the public consciousness for
decades upon decades. Nancy was brash and intrepid; a girl,
almost a woman, who was never intimidated by danger, who lived by her
wits and would willingly subject herself to dire circumstances where
not just angels but many men would fear to tread, all in the service
of a just cause.

Does Nancy Drew still have cultural relevance? In a world that
has changed so much since her zippy little roadster first hit the
streets of River Heights, does she still have something to teach us?
I think she does. And heroine Charlotte Bell thinks she does too.
Despite occasionally poking fun at Nancy, as Charlotte’s story
progresses, a story that takes her to Iceland and into danger,
the story itself being a sort of comic-gothic, Charlotte adopts as
her mantra WWNDD: What Would Nancy Drew Do? In the end, that mantra
really does save her life.




As stated, the novel is a comedy and, obviously, it is a novel. And
yet, maybe that mantra thing isn’t such a bad idea. Maybe when faced
with dilemmas – Should I help that stranger in need? Can I do
something to stop that crime from being committed? Is there some way
I can make the world a better place? – perhaps we should all
be asking ourselves: What Would Nancy Drew Do?

Lauren Baratz-Logsted

IT RUNS IN THE FAMILY

I am now about to do the kind of thing that typically makes me cringe.

I'm about to be a doting aunt in public.

My nephew Sean wrote a story the other day--I don't know what inspired it, where he got the idea, whether he outlined or not, and I don't believe he currently has an agent or a publisher. Unless I count because...yes...I am going to post his story here. Here and now.

I KNOW, I KNOW!!

But I think this story is quite amazing--even if it is not a mystery or crime short.

So here it is, the as yet untitled effort by Sean Douglas Logan.






I have a story to tell you.

Once upon a time there was a war. It was dragon vs. giant cats.

There was a dragon named Jack, he was a Major. The last day of the war Major Jack was on Palm Beach, he was in a war boat. He saw a big hair ball hit a friendly boat. Jack watched the troops fall in the water. He then saw the first aid boats giving hot cocoa to the troops in the cold water.

Then all of a sudden the other troops in the boat said "I want hot cocoa!" and jumped out of the boat. Then Jack saw all the huge bunkers and machine guns on Palm Beach, and of course they were the enemies's.

Thirty seconds to landing on Palm Beach. Jack was loading his gun which was a gum ball launching machine gun as cats don't like gum balls in their fur.

Ten seconds left. Jack's heart was pounding, then the driver of the boat fainted as he saw a huge hair ball coming towards their boat.

They had to wake up the driver of the boat and push the big red button. Once they woke him up they made him push the button and VOOOOSH a big gun came out in the middle of the war boat and blasted the hair ball.

And then finally they hit land. As the door slowly opened, something hit the boat from behind.

A huge hairy war boat was grabbing them from the rear, dragging them out into the cold sea.

Then Jack fired at the Captain of the huge enemy boat and the enemy Captain was walking around with gum balls in his hair and he fell overboard.

Then they had to go into the freezing water, so they went. It was so cold in the water and also there was rumors that there were mines in the cold water. That was confirmed when Jack saw one of the troops step on something in the water and was blown sky high.

Then they landed on the beach. As they were running towards the huge bunkers, hair ball fire was everywhere! One of the troops was blinded by the itchy hair in their face as they were hit.

As Major Jack finally got into one of the huge bunkers he saw enemy troops, then in a huge hair ball gum ball fight he gum balled all the furry felines.

He then placed a charge in the middle of the bunker and ran out like a screaming little girl. (EDITOR'S NOTE: Forgive this rampant chauvinism on the part of my esteemed nevvy--he does have a very girly girl sister and we must overlook the occasional generalizations about our fair sex.)

He then went to the next bunker beside it, this one had really, really long stairs.

When he finally got to it all the cats were on coffee break, so it was easy to gum ball them. Once he placed the charge the door downstairs seemed to be closed so he jumped out the slim window of the bunker falling really fast and praying.

He hit the ground really hard. Then he was congratulated by all the solders and the squad. As they got in their boats and were going home they watched the big bunkers blow up into the sky.

When he got back to head quarters he was awarded the Medal of Honor and given lots of money. After that he got married and he forever cherished the missions he'd gone on.

THE END

Home Alone

I’m sitting here eating my supper--Guinness Chicken, courtesy of Mr. Thrilling (who does 90% of the cooking around here—-which is only reasonable since he is a much better cook than me) and trying to decide what to watch on the telly. I don’t watch a lot of TV—-not from intellectual snobbery, but because I’m pretty narrow in my tastes. I’m addicted to What Not to Wear and PBS's Mystery!, but mostly I watch old movies—crime and mystery in particular. I like to write with old movies playing in the background. I hope this doesn't eventually lead me into trouble a la George Harrison.

But I do watch a lot of new movies too—and maybe I should talk about the last one Mr. Thrilling and I viewed. It’s called Taking Lives and it stars Angelina Jolie, Ethan Hawke and a number of French Canadian guys (but I don’t blame them, and you shouldn’t either).



Mr. Thrilling and I are in agreement that this is one of the very worst movies we’ve watched--either singly or together. Which is saying something. If you want the edited version of my review: clumsy and derivative.

The oddly lovely Angelina is Special Agent Illeana Scott who is supposed to be a top FBI profiler. The promo material says that she “doesn’t use traditional crime-solving techniques to unravel the mysteries of a murderous mind. Her intuitive, unconventional approach often makes the crucial difference between catching a killer and sending a dead-end case to the cold file.” And we know that to be true because our first glimpse of her is at night at a crime scene lying where the butchered victim was found, so right off the bat it's a given that she is a) brilliant, b) eccentric, c) fearless about grass and blood stains.

(Just for a change I’d love to see a brilliant profiler who actually spends a lot of time poring over files and photos and case histories and books and…you know…investigating.)

Illeana is invited to help the Montreal police in their efforts to catch a “cunning” (as always) serial killer. Which is kind of unlikely, but not impossible--it's the kind of thing for which I'm willing to suspend disbelief--and I loved the idea of this yank FBI agent in Montreal (even if, according to Mr. Thrilling, most of the scenes of Montreal were actually of Quebec). Since Mr. Thrilling hails from Montreal I thought this would be a fun one to share. Fortunately he has pretty much forgiven me, and I'm feeling sure my Guinness Chicken is not poisoned--not that I'd blame him.

Anyway, let's go back to where the movie opens up with -- oh, I should warn you that I am not going to be careful about spoilers -- our teenaged serial killer performing his first (or IS it?????) cunning murder. Basically he pushes another teenager in front of an on-coming vehicle in the absolute middle of nowhere, which has to be the dumbest ever murder attempt EXCEPT Dame Fortune is with this kid, and the on-coming vehicle goes out of control, flips, crashes, explodes and all possible witnesses are killed.

Dude!


Fast forward twenty odd years and a terrified Gina Rowlands (who must be desperate for work) goes to the police with the information that her long dead son, Asher, is not dead after all -- she just saw him on a ferry and he's alive and he's ever so dangerous as you would not believe.

So those of us who can hear over the crunching of popcorn put two and two together and deduce that Gina is the mother of that lucky homicidal youth, that he knows where she lives, that her days are numbered, etc. All roads leading to Mom, as it were.

Anyway, where was I? Right, the Montreal coppers bring in G-Woman Illeana to help with these perplexing serial killings that they can't for the life of them solve on their own. Why is it Americans never bring in Canadians to help, eh?

OH, and there's been a big break in the case because there was an eye-witness to the murder of the last victim. In fact, the police (and the audience) are pretty darned sure the witness IS the murderer...but it's hard to tell because Ethan Hawke has given some uneven performances, so I wasn't quite sure if he was pretending to be a bad actor because he was the killer or if he was just having an off day.

By the way, the best part of this movie is the blooper reel on the DVD. Just an aside.

Sooooo the Montreal Police look to the unconventional Illeana to clue them in as to whether the witness Costa is the real deal. She interviews him briefly and gives him a clean bill of health because when she drops...jeez, now I'm forgetting...pictures of the murder scene, was it? Anyway, he shows shock and horror and so he can't possibly be FAKING that, right? 'Cause even cunning serial killers don't know how to FAKE their reactions!!! How fair would that be?

Back to the promo materials. "With meticulous insight..."

(STOP. What the hell is "meticulous insight?" How can insight be meticulous? Is that just the silliest thing or am I being too picky?)

Sorry. Ahem. "...she (that would be Illeana) theorizes that the chameleon-like killer is 'life-jacking'--assuming the lives and identities of his victims."

So that's what that phrase means. I sort of wondered. And how does Illeana deduce that? Guesswork or more amazing intuition?

"As the pressure mounts to catch the elusive murderer, Agent Scott's unorthodox methods alienate her from a territorial police team that feels threatened by her uncanny abilities."

Those French guys are JEALOUS. It's well-documented that all cops--especially French cops--are chauvinist peegs--even the Canadian ones. They are clearly envious of her meticulous insight.

"Her seemingly cold demeanor belies an unparalleled passion for her work, and she's at her best when she's working alone."

And doing nothing.

"However, when an unexpected attraction sparks a complicated romantic entanglement, the consummate specialist begins to doubt her finely-honed instincts. Alone in an unfamiliar city with no one she can trust,"

People, it's not IRAQ, for God's sake! Her friend and former mentor/colleague invited her up there--why can't she trust HIM? Why can't she confer with her buddies at the Bureau--doesn't she have a cell phone? And what is the matter with her finely-honed instincts that she can't see what the entire audience spots instantly?

(By now I was ready to murder Mr. Thrilling who could not shut up about everything they were getting wrong about Canada, Montreal, train time tables, geography, etc. He was SO missing the point.)

So, anyhooooo, Illeana and her team of crackpots--er, her crack team--go visit Gina Rowlands and while they are poking around her creepy haunted basement (in an otherwise totally normal suburban home) Illeana is accosted by the killer who apparently has been dossing down in the hidden cellar for decades (by the looks of things) and could have killed old G. any time he chose. This must be one of them thar Mother Fixations we read about in True Crime magazine!

Illeana does some kick butt martial arts moves and saves herself, but the cunning killer escapes again. DARN IT ALL!!! I mean, the tension is really mounting here!

Note: the funny little carved figures in the basement that show up on the credits are never explained as far as I can tell. Somebody want to explain there significance to me?

"Agent Scott suddenly finds herself on a twisted and terrifying journey, surrounded by suspects in a case that has become chillingly personal..."

Oh my God. So here's the quick version because it's almost time for the Perry Mason re-runs. Keifer Sutherland (looking as rumpled and disreputable as if they had to wake him up for his walk on cameo) shows up threatening Ethan/Costa, and everyone and their finely honed instincts assumes he is the murderer, and when he is killed by Costa in the MOST preposterous (but unquestioned by all those consumate professionals) scenario imaginable, there is much rejoincing throughout the land--and Illeana gives into those finely honed instincts and goes to bed with him. Costa, I mean. Not Keifer, who was burnt to a rumpled and disreputable crisp.

And their night of rollicking sex causes Ethan/Costa's stitches (don't ask--it's not germane) to open up and they go to the hospital to get him fixed up and while he's there he coincidentally gets into an elevator with Asher's mom (Gina, that would be) and of course she recognizes him....


And when girlishly-happy-and-so-in-love Illeana presses the open button on the elevator, the doors swing open and there is Asher/Costa/Ethan sawing Gina's head off.

Need I say more?

I'm not even going to ask where the heck he got the knife because that is just one too many impossible things to believe before dessert.

Cuba, Cats and Murder

Unlike Mr. Thrilling I can watch movies over and over. In fact, I like to write with old movies playing in the background. Music is way too distracting--I either start singing or, worse, I start dancing. Have you ever tried to type and dance at the same time? It is neither graceful nor efficient.

Two of my favorite background movies happen to star Bob Hope. You didn't expect that, did you? You were probably thinking...HAUNTED SUMMER or something on those lines, right? (Actually, I did enjoy Haunted Summer, but even I don't think about Romantic poets 24/7.)

As I've grown older (not A LOT older, mind) I've come to appreciate the genius of Bob Hope. Nope, he wasn't startlingly handsome or particularly dashing--in fact, he got a lot of mileage from playing a wisecracking "coward," but in his best roles he has moments of nice guy integrity where he faces up to his fears usually to help a beautiful dame.

"I don't mind dying, but I hate the preliminaries."


Naturally I love all the Road movies with Bing Crosby (my dad taught us all to sing dozens and dozens of Bing Crosby songs when we were young--and now he's doing the same to the grand kids), but my favorite Bob Hope movies are a pair of comic mystery efforts--both with the beautiful Paulette Goddard.


"I'm shaking so hard the water in my knee just splashed."






THE CAT AND THE CANARY (1939)

I have a second generation version of this film--I was lucky to get any version because it is extremely rare and is not currently in print. I found my copy on ebay. There is an earlier version--and a later verison--neither of which I've seen.

Our story takes place way out in the Bayou in a creepy, isolated, mossy mansion inhabited only by the Creole housekeeper "Miss Lou" who sees spirits. And probably imbibes them. But now the remaining relations of Cyrus Norman have arrived ten years after his death for the reading of his will.

Note: Gale Sondergaard does a great job as Miss Lou--she's always wonderful as these intense, teetering-on-the-edge-of-sanity women.

Hope is Wally Campbell a radio star and one of Cyrus's nephews. Goddard is Joyce Norman--I trust they aren't first cousins. There are plenty of cracks about the streak of insanity that runs in the family, and apparently it's not all funning, because the condition of old man Norman's will is that if his sole heir should be found insane within a month of inheriting, a second heir (whose name is in a sealed envelope) will receive everything, no questions asked.

So...everyone seems pretty happy for Joyce (apparently the ramshackle state of the house is no indication of Norman's vast fortune--or maybe it is) although a couple of folks mention that the terms of the will are an invitation to murder. Two nephews are smitten with Joyce--and that's even before she inherits all the alligators in a ten mile radius--and Wally shows a decided interest, although he's eager to escape the house as soon as possible and shows that wiseacre streak that tells a girl he won't be a pushover for her charms.

I should mention that Cyrus has left a letter for Joyce about treasure (a diamond and emerald necklace) hidden in the garden.

Got all that?

MEANWHILE a crazed killer called The Cat, who slashes his victims to death with his long claw-like fingernails, has escaped from the local insane asylum. He's believed to be in the near vicinity. Like the cellar.

Mr. Crosby, the lawyer, suggests that no one tell "the girls" about the crazed killer on the loose, because it might make them nervous. Uh huh. Wally doesn't reveal the confidence, but he does warn Joyce to keep her eyes open. That's how we know he's starting to fall for her, since being a radio personality we can safely assume he's essentially self-absorbed.

Hope has a lot of great lines, although this is definitely a film that could be remade even funnier and spookier--from what I understand the last remake was a bit weak. Carol Lynley. Need I say more?

In an odd reversal, Mr. Crosby (the lawyer) warns Joyce that she's in great danger (but in that oblique hinting way that doomed informants prefer) and then he's murdered. We know he's murdered, but Joyce has her back turned to him and doesn't see him hauled off into the secret passage.

(There is a very scary scene in the library when the thing in the secret passage nearly gets Joyce too.)

Joyce is one of these super-pretty, down-to-earth all American girls--a little excitable once the weirdness starts--but overall as sane as any chick in the 30s. She and Wally join forces and and set out to find who killed the lawyer and is now trying to drive Joyce over the edge.

Portraits with eyes that move, secret passages, buried treasure, maniacs, spirits--I needn't explain why I like this movie. Still, even I can see there are a lot of holes in it. It's still fun--with some genuinely spooky moments. Hope and Goddard make a great team--which brings us to:




THE GHOST BREAKERS (1940)
With a bigger budget and better script, this was a successful follow up to the Hope/Goddard 1939 comedy thriller "The Cat and the Canary."

Mary Carter inherits her family's ancestral home on small Black Island located off Cuba (back in the days when you weren't arrested for traveling to Cuba--and what is with that, by the way? We can travel to Red China and the USSR, but not Cuba?). The film kicks off with an eerie electrical storm over New York--which Mary loves, so we know she is a spunky gal and not afraid of the dark--which is lucky, because apparently there is no electricity on Black Island. AND, by the way, Mary's ancestral home is a castle AND it is reputed to be haunted. I'm thinking about the plumbing in a place like that...ugh. Now THAT'S frightening.

Anyway, despite outlandishly high offers for the decrepit homestead--not to mention dire warnings and a death threat or two, Mary is determined to proceed to Cuba. MEANWHILE, radio commentator and personality (to spare) Larry Lawrence has run afoul of the local mob boss. He winds up believing he has killed one of Frenchie Duval's gunmen, and decides he needs to get out of New York fast--and the fastest way is in Mary's trunk.

There are some very funny bits with the trunk and on board the Cuba-bound ship, but not so funny are the attempts on Mary's life. One thing leads to another, and Larry, despite his instinct for self-preservation, decides that Mary needs his protection. Or at least his company--despite the fact that she meets a handsome and debonair acquaintance, Jeff Montgomery, who is probably more her type, anyway. But this is how we know Bob is the true gent. Even though he suspects he is not going to wind up with Mary, he still intends to see her through.

Bob Hope (as one would expect since he is the star of this movie) has most of the good lines--though not all. Mary's role is fun. She's scared but persistent and she's good at the wisecracks even when shaken.

Another plus in this one is the role of Alex, Larry's black manservent. Like Larry, he does his very best to avoid death and danger, but he is loyal to Larry and he generally shows more commonsense (Alex is the one who figures out that Larry is not a killer).

Anyway, Larry and Alex and Mary arrive on Cuba and head for the island where some genuinely scary things happen--the first time I saw this movie, I was about eleven, and I thought it was GREAT!!! Ghosts, voodoo, zombies, a spooky castle and a vein of silver as wide as the island itself--THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!!

Originally based on a play by Paul Dickey and Charles Goddard, this was remade as SCARED STIFF with Jerry Lewis and Dean Martin in the 1950s. The remake is amusing too, but the pace is slowed by all these extra gags for Jerry Lewis that go on and on and on. (Yes, I know he's a considered a genius in France.) However, in the interests of full disclosure, each and every one of my nieces and nephews have found Lewis's Carmen Miranda take-off to be side-splitting stuff.

And your famous vintage comic mystery move is....?