"I cannot understand how the police could have been so blind..."- The Old Man (Baroness Orczy's "The York Mystery," collected in The Old Man in the Corner, 1908)
Back
in May, I reviewed a Dutch short (locked room) story by Anne van
Doorn, titled "De
dichter die zichzelf opsloot" ("The Poet Who Locked Himself
In"), which was offered at the time as a freebie by E-Pulp
Publishers. A small, independent, publishing outfit that had
turned its back on the drab, gloomy realism of the psychological
school of modern crime-fiction and vowed to return to "the time
of pulp fiction" when mystery and imagination would await all
who would seek it – be it in a short story or a full-length novel.
So you'll not find a single title in their catalog with the predicate "literary thriller" emblazoned on the front-cover.
Several
months have passed since my previously mentioned blog-post and a
number of potentially interesting titles were published during that
period. One of these releases was Van Doorn's De geliefde die in
het veen verdween en andere mysteries (The Lover Who
Disappeared in the Bog and Other Mysteries, 2017), which is a
rare, modern-day, collection of short stories and includes "The
Poet Who Locked Himself In."
The
Lover Who Disappeared in the Bog and Other Mysteries consists of
five short stories about Van Doorn's series-characters, Robbie
Corbijn and Lowina de Jong, who are particuliere onderzoekers
(private investigators) specialized in oude zaken (old cases)
that the police were unable to successfully bring to a close –
which vary from long-standing missing person cases to unsolved
murders. Corbijn is both the head and brains of Recherchebureau
Corbijn – Research & Discover, while De Jong acts as his
assistant, pupil and chronicler. She pretty much plays the Dr. Watson
to his Sherlock Holmes. They work from an apartment in a residential
tower, called the Kolos van Cronesteyn, standing on the outskirts of
Leiden, South-Holland.
This
compendium opens with a brief opmerking vooraf (comment in
advance), in which Van Doorn laments the lack of room in today's
literary landscape for the short story and professed an admiration
for the short detective stories by Conan
Doyle, Agatha
Christie and Baroness
Orczy. And told that the five stories that make up this
collection were written in the tradition of those three classic
mystery writers. Lastly, Van Doorn ended with the suggestion to read
the stories in the order they appear and no more than a day, because "each story only comes into its own when you read no more than
one per day."
Apparently,
that's how Van Doorn learned to read and appreciate short stories.
Well, I succeeded in reading them in order, but burned through them
in less than five days. What can I say? I'm a wholesale consumer of
detective fiction. So, let's take down these stories from the top.
The
first story in this collection is the locked room yarn I reviewed
back in May, "The Poet Who Locked Himself In," which is why I'm
not going to discuss it here again, but, needless to say, it's always
a special treat to come across an impossible crime story in my own
language – particularly when the locked room trick is a good one.
And it was this specific story that inspired me to compile a list of
Dutch-language locked room novels and short stories, which you can
find here.
The
second story lends its name to this collection, "De geliefde die in
het veen verdween" ("The Lover Who Disappeared in the Bog"),
which begins as a modern-day crime story about a missing property
developer, who had ties with the underworld, but ended in the most
classical way imaginable.
Corbijn
and De Jong are approached by the woman living next to the office,
Letty Kreft, whose niece, Ingeborg Greshoff, has a boyfriend who has
been missing for six-and-a-half years. Guido Eickhout was a project
developer and an ardent hiker, but on his last hike in the Belgian
Ardennes, in the Hoge Vennen, he simply vanished from the face of the
Earth. Tragically, Greshoff learned that he had ordered golden
engagement rings and planned to propose to her upon his return.
The
local police believes Eickhout had been murdered by one of his
criminal associates and the body had been hidden somewhere in "the
outstretched forests, marshy peatlands, bogs" and the
heathlands. Greshoff is well aware that the murderer might never be
caught or has perhaps been killed himself in another criminal related
shooting, which is why she now only wants to find the body and give
her would-be-fiance a decent burial. Corbijn accepts the case and
travels to the misty, boggy Ardennes and slowly begins to unravel the
tapestry of a plot as clever and intricate as anything found in
Ellery
Queen or Edward
D. Hoch. A plot that consists of such tricky puzzle-pieces as "a
man with a red sports bag," the pealing of the warning bell at
a small chapel, once used as a "beacon for wandering hikers,"
and a local story from the 19th century – about two lovers who got
lost on the fens and perished in a snowstorm.
Plot-wise, "The Lover Who Disappeared in the Bog" is the strongest of the
five stories in this collection and one of my two personal favorites,
which goes to show that even in this country some form of shin
honkaku detective fiction can exist.
The
next story is titled "De arts die de weg kwijt was" ("The
Doctor Who Got Lost On the Way") and is a departure from the cold
case formula of the series, because the problem at hand is only a
couple of days old. And consists of no less than two seemingly
impossible situations!
A
doctor from the Laakkwartier in Den Haag (The Hague), named Thomas
van Ooijen, is in desperate need for an answer as to what has
happened to him several days ago. One night, he was called on his
smartphone by a patient, who needed special care, but when he arrived
in the street where his patient lived he was waited upon by an
unknown man and was ushered to a top-floor apartment – where he
found a young woman strapped to a bed with an inflamed gunshot wound.
A second man, who was present in the room, came across very
threateningly and made it abundantly clear that it was in his best
interest to help the girl without asking questions. This situation
recalls the premise of R. Austin Freeman's The
Mystery of 31, New Inn (1912), but what happens next takes
the story in an entirely different direction.
When
Van Ooijen finished working on the woman, he blacked out and was
found later that night by two policemen inside his locked car that
had been parked near the Kurhaus in Scheveningen. He had a splitting
headache, the smell of alcohol clung to him and the keys, with remote
control attached to it, lay on the dash board. Only he himself could
have locked himself into his own car. So the police had a hard time
believing his story, but what made Van Ooijen doubt himself is when
the police accompanied him to the address and discovered that the
place was a ground-floor house. The stairs and the entire top-floor
apartment had disappeared!
The
premise of the story and the explanation for the two impossibilities
constitute the best aspects of this story. Corbijn practically solves
the problem of the vanishing top-floor apartment from his armchair by
consulting Google Maps, but the mystery of the locked car is a little
bit more involved and requires a practical demonstration to show how
it was done. I've seen the principle behind this particular trick
before, but to apply this idea to a modern car with a remote control
key is a new ripple.
However,
I was not very impressed by the ending of the story or how an
all-important plot-thread was left dangling in the wind. The story
literally ended with “we will probably never know why
[redacted] did so much to save her life.” What? That was,
like, the entire mainspring of the plot and you leave it hanging in
the air! Very, very disappointing. And the reason why this story
ended up as the weakest entry in this collection. It began strong,
but ended weakly.
Luckily,
the next story in this collection, “Het joch dat grenzen
overschreed” (“The Brat Who Went Too Far”), is my second
favorite and is a good example of, what Bill
Pronzini calls, humanist detective fiction. A sad and tragic
murder case that would “never have become a case if there was no
loneliness.” Or rather if the people involved had someone close
to them to care about.
A
lawyer, Elvira Guikema, calls in the help of Corbijn and De Jong on
behalf of one of her clients, Geertruida Smelinck, who has been
convicted for the premeditated murder of her neighbor's nine-year-old
son, Ward Koehoorn – who was a regular Denis the Menace. The
backdrop of this case is a glumly, dead-end side street with only
three houses. It's a neglected neighborhood where people on one of
the bottom rungs of society live a dismal, monotonous life.
Smelinck
was a recluse with a dark past and the mother of the victim, Debby,
had begun to prostitute herself after she was abandoned by Ward's
father. An elderly retiree, Mr. Van den Ham, lived in the third home
and filled his days by taking care of his sick wife and was an
important witness as to what happened that fateful day. The last
person is their landlord, Dirk van Grijpskerk, who lives far more
comfortable than his tenants in a brand new bungalow.
On
this already gloomy, dismal existence, Ward was an additional burden
and the boy had picked Smelinck as his favorite target. So there was
no question about her guilt when the boy was found in her garden with
a rusty rod sticking out of his body. A year before, Ward had
stolen all of the apples from the tree in her garden and everyone
assumed he was caught and killed when he tried to repeat it a second
time.
However, Smelinck maintained her innocence and Corbijn,
alongside De Jong, travel to the province of Groningen to visit the
desolate place where the murder took place three years ago. The plot
is not overly complicated and the evidence, consisting of a key of
the garden door, fingerprints and the witness statements, eventually
bears out the simple truth. A simple truth I almost completely
missed, because I was staring myself blind on my own pet hypothesis.
I was only correct on a single technical aspect of the plot, but hey,
being proven wrong can be as fun as completely solving the case. And
really liked the background and story-telling of this one.
Finally,
the last story of the lot, "De vluchteling die alles achterliet"
("The Refugee Who Left Everything Behind"), is yet another nail
in the coffin of the ludicrous claim that the advance of forensic
science, such as DNA, has made clever and classically-styled
detective plots absolute – which is simply not true. This claim had
already been shattered, decades before it was made, by Isaac Asimov
in The
Caves of Steel (1954) and again demonstrated to be false by
Keigo Higashino's controversial Yogisha
X no kenshin (The Devotion of Suspect X, 2005). Van
Doorn approach to this is not as grand as those by Asimov and
Higashino, but it nonetheless shows how DNA can be used as
misdirection when manipulated and/or misinterpreted.
The
background of the story has its roots in the Yugoslav Wars of the
1990s. A Bosnian refugee, Zlatko Hodzic, came to the Netherlands in
1994 and vanished from an asylum center in 1996 without a trace.
One
day earlier, Susanne Westera, disappeared under equally inexplicable
circumstances from her home on the Wadden Island of Terschelling. A
thorough police investigation determined that Zlatko and Susanna were
in secret relationship, which was confirmed by DNA found in her home,
but nothing else materialized from this discovery and they were
relegated to never-ending list of missing persons who were never
found. And the case remained unresolved for more than twenty years.
Now the father of Susanne is terminally ill and wants to make a last
ditch effort to clear up the case, which brings Corbijn and De Jong
into the picture.
This
story is, structurally, similar to the title story of this collection
as both begin as apparently modern-crime stories, with a problem
rooted in contemporary times, but the resolutions to these two
stories are classic examples of old-fashioned misdirection and
craftsman-like plotting – topped, in this case, with a nifty trick
to get rid of a pesky body. So not a bad story to close out this
collection.
All
in all, The Lover Who Disappeared in the Bog and Other Mysteries
is a solid collection of contemporary detective stories in the
classic mold and a fine showcase of the all-but-lost art form known
as the short story format. A form preferred by the early Titans of
the genre. So it does me great joy to see a mystery writer from my
own country continuing this age-old tradition and a second short story collection has already been announced for next year, De
bergen die geen vergetelheid kennen en andere mysteries (The
Mountains That Do Not Forget and Other Mysteries, 2018).
Finally,
I want to point out my own objectivity. There were two impossible
crime stories in this volume, but my two favorites were "The Lover
Who Disappeared in the Bog" and "The Brat Who Went Too Far." So
maybe my obsession with locked
room mysteries hasn't really gone all that far after all! But is
that a good thing or have I just let down the spirit of John
Dickson Carr?
Glad to hear this book turned out so favorably. I'll have to pick it up eventually too, I guess.
ReplyDeleteIt's no secret I'm a big fan of the short story format, and it's fortunately a form still often utilized in Japan, where there's still so much room for their publication, with enough monthlies and other regular publications offering space for them. A great number of short story collections published even now are still comprised of stories that have first been published individually in magazines, like in the old days.
Even the chapters of Detective Conan are published in a weekly magazine before they're collected. So, as usual, Japan knows how to properly treat detective fiction.
DeleteSadly, I don't think that approach is even possible in this country, because we don't have magazines anymore that publish short (crime) fiction.
And I'm calling it now, you'll like the title and last story the best.
So. Translated by TomCat when? Because these seem really good, and if Ho-Ling can do it, so can you! :P (I'm not being totally serious here.)
ReplyDelete----The Dark One
Sure. If you want to settle for a bootleg quality translation, I could probably churn out something that's semi-readable. Otherwise, I advise you start pestering a publishers specialized in these types of non-English or (neo) orthodox detective stories, because they can put a proper translator on such a project. ;)
Delete