Death Croons the Blues (1934) by James Ronald

Stories of Crime & Detection, vol. 7: Death Croons the Blues (2024) is, as of this writing, one of the recent additions to the ambitious, ongoing project to restore James Ronald's crime, detective and pulp fiction to print – scheduled to conclude next year with vol. 14. The headline novel of this collection is the second of three novels about the morally flexible, ace crime reporter of the London-based Morning World, Julian Mendoza. I wanted to start at the beginning of the series with Cross Marks the Spot (1933), collected in Stories of Crime & Detection, vol. 6 (2024), but remembered John Norris reviewed Death Croons the Blues (1934) in 2019. It sounded exactly like the kind of pulp-style, slightly off-the-wall whodunit I can appreciate.

Bill Cuffy is an ex-convict and reformed housebreaker with a gravely-ill, pregnant wife at home, no income and bills to pay. Molly Cuffy used to do char work for a well-known blues singer, Adele Valée, who's "rolling in jewels and furs." And her apartment is strewn with valuable knick-knacks. It seemed an easy enough job ("the softest of soft cribs") and Cuffy decided to pull the job on the night Valée is supposed to be away, but panics and leaves behind cartoon smoke when coming across her decapitated body in the bloodsoaked bathroom. Cuffy accidentally took the murder weapon with him as neighbors begin to ring the alarms and patrolling police constables blow their whistles.

An exhausted, frightened and Ghurka knife-wielding Cuffy fortuitously ends up at the boardinghouse of Julian Mendoza's housekeeper, Mrs. MacDougal. Mendoza immediately smells a story when he learns the famous nightclub singer has been brutally murdered. Suspects the housebreaker's story is not wholly untrue.

Cuffy not only took the murder weapon with him, but also an expensive, blood smeared coat belonging to a known troublemaker, the Honorable Timothy Brett – who's not the only man involved with Adele Valée. At the crime scene, Mendoza finds proof Valée had intimate relationships with three very rich, highly influential and powerful men. Sir Samuel Judson, an ex-cabinet minister, the department store magnate Neville Walls and the multi-millionaire Hugo Brancker. Their association is not without a hint of blackmail. Mendoza also has to contend with young Lady Constance Gay, who's determined to prevent Brett from hanging, while trying to piece together how the ex-boxer "Tiger" Slavin fits into the story. Not to be forgotten is Inspector Howells, of Scotland Yard, who frowns on Mendoza's shenanigans ("you're a rotten citizen—and a good newspaper man. That's why I don't trust you. You'd lie, cheat, or rob for a story"). So they go at it like rival detectives.

So a pleasantly busy, rollicking pulp-style detective story showing Ronald's towered over other writers when it comes to creating characters and storytelling, especially series-characters. Sketchy, short-lived as they may be. Similar to Six Were to Die (1932) and the other Dr. Britling shorter stories, Death Croons the Blues is carried by series-characters of Mendoza, Howells and Mrs. MacDougal.

John compared Mendoza to early Perry Mason who brazenly tempered with crime scenes, evidence and witnesses as long as it protected his clients. Mendazo takes a similar approach when it comes to chasing the next headline grabber, which he explains to Howells as follow: "That's where I score over you. You're bound up in red tape and regulations. The only tape in my life comes from a newsticker—and I make up my regulations as I go along." So the straitlaced Howells futilely trying to keep the breaks on the roving crime reporter's antics is the perfect foil and considerably livens up the story in addition to the characters, plot-threads and some actual detective work concerning several iron-clad alibis – even Lady Constance gets to play amateur detective. Ronald was smart enough to have Mendoza's cleverness get the better of him on several occasions and in the end he had to pay a hefty prize for his scoop.

Unfortunately, Death Croons the Blues went from the best the pulps have to offer to the worst with a ridiculous, weak and unconvincing solution. Firstly, the combination of murderer and method strikes a false, unconvincing note (SPOILER/ROT13) orpnhfr V qba'g ohl gung gur zheqrere, nf cerfragrq urer, jbhyq hfr n zrgubq erdhvevat uvz gb eha nebhaq anxrq ba n ebbsgbc be qrcraq ba fhpu n syvzfl, evfxl nyvov. N oevqtr-qhzzl nyvov pna jbex jura gur wbo pna or qbar va n pbhcyr bs zvahgrf. Sbe rknzcyr, Inyér vf nyernql qehttrq naq gvrq hc fbzrjurer va uvf ubhfr, fgnof ure juvyr orvat qhzzl naq gur obql vf yngre oebhtug onpx gb ure bja syng gb znxr vg nccrne fur jnf xvyyrq gurer. Ohg abg jura gur fpurzr erfrzoyrf n fznyy bofgnpyr pbhefr! Vg jbhyq yrnir uvz gbb ihyarenoyr ba nyy sebagf naq ab thnenagrr gur bguref jbhyq or fb nofbeorq va gur tnzr, gurl jbhyqa'g abgvpr uvf cebybatrq nofrapr nsgre zber guna gra zvahgrf. On top of that, (SPOILER/ROT13), gur zheqrere guerngrarq gb trg evq bs gur gebhoyrfbzr Zraqbmn naq Ynql Pbafgnapr ol qvffbyivat gurve obqvrf va npvq. Frr? Gung'f zhpu zber va punenpgre guna ehaavat nebhaq jvgu n Quhexn xavsr yvxr n qrzragrq ahqvfg gelvat gb chyy bss n zrffl senzr wbo. Why not do that in the first place?

So, plot-wise, Death Croons the Blues is not a patch on the excellent Murder in the Family (1936) or the superb They Can't Hang Me (1938), but it still stands as a fun, well written pulp-style mystery carried by its characters and storytelling – rather than a wildly imaginative premise or solution. Normally a hallmark of these pulp-style takes on the traditional detective novel. I'm still glad to finally have an opportunity to poke around the work of once truly forgotten mystery writer and hopefully the next one will be another Murder in the Family or They Can't Hang Me, instead of a repeat of Six Were to Die.

A note for the curious: Mendoza also appeared in a handful of novellas published by The Thriller Library and the first of these novellas, "Baby-Face” (1937), appears in this collection under the title "Angel Face." In addition to two non-series short stories, "The Other Mr. Marquis" (1930) and "The Joke" (1930). I'm not discussing them here, because I'm saving up Ronald's shorter work and review them separately in two, three compilation reviews.