Edward
D. Hoch had a storied, decades-long career as a voluminous writer
of short stories and passed away, in 2008, with close to a thousand
short stories to his name, but he was equally productive when it came
to creating series-characters – somewhere around twenty of them.
Some where better known or had longer lifespans than others.
I've previously discussed
short stories collections starring some of Hoch's most celebrated
series-detectives, such as The
Thefts of Nick Velvet (1971), The
Ripper of Storyville (1997) and Challenge
the Impossible (2018), but there's an entire roster of
lesser-known, secondary series-characters whose stories have remained
uncollected to this very day. A roster comprising of characters such
as Father David Noone, Ulysses S. Bird, Sir Gideon Parrot and Paul
Tower. Most of them only appeared in a handful of stories.
I've yet to encounter any
of these characters, but plan to track down a couple of these
uncollected stories from some of Hoch's short-lived, unsung series
and found an excellent locked
room mystery from the slightly more successful Interpol-series –
counting fourteen stories that were published between 1973 and 1984
in Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine. The protagonists of this
series are Sebastian Blue, "a middle-aged Englishman formerly of
Scotland Yard," who now works for Interpol and has been paired
with a promising talent from the translation department, Laura
Charme, to investigate "airline crimes around the globe."
They operate from an office on the top floor of the Interpol
headquarters in Saint-Cloud, Paris, France.
The third story in the
series, "The Case of the Modern Medusa," was originally published
in the November, 1973, issue of EQMM and brings the two
Interpol agents to Geneva, Switzerland.
Two years ago, Otto
Dolliman opened a Mythology Fair in Geneva and it appears to be
merely a tourist attraction, but Interpol has reasons to believe the
Mythology Fair is a cover for "a gold-smuggling operation"
linked to the world-wide narcotic trade. A suspicion strengthened
when Gretchen Spengler, a West German airline stewardess, was
murdered shortly after "the live-action tableaux" of
Perseus slaying Medusa. Gretchen Spengled worked at the Fair during
her spare time and Interpol believes she used her position, as a
stewardess, to smuggle cold out of Switzerland. So they send down
Charme to take Spengler's place, as Medusa, but a few days later, the
murderer strikes a second time and this murder is an impossible crime
– except that "the room wasn't really locked."
Otto Dolliman has a small
office-room dominated by an eight-foot-tall statue of King Neptune,
holding a very real and sharp trident, which was driven by the
murderer into Dolliman's stomach. There are only two problems: the
only window in the office was covered with a wire-mesh grille, firmly
bolted in place, while the only (unlocked) door had been under
constant observation by Sebastian Blue!
A great locked room
situation with an excellent and original explanation, easily one of
Hoch's better impossible crime stories, but as good as the locked
room-trick is a cheeky clue that doubled as a red herring by
diverting your attention away from the truth. A splendid locked
room-trick that perhaps would have better at home in the Dr. Sam
Hawthorne series, where it would have been more appreciated, but "The
Case of the Modern Medusa" predates the first Dr. Hawthorne story, "The Problem of the Covered Bridge," by more than a year –
published in the December, 1974, issue of EQMM. So, purely as
an impossible crime story, this one comes highly recommended to every
locked room reader.
The pool of suspects is
practically bone dry and the murderer is pretty much the only person
standing in it, but, since this is a how-was-it-done, not a whodunit,
this is of no consequence. A well-hidden murderer would have
certainly rocketed this story to the status of a modern classic, but
I'm more than happy with what I got. And then there are the two
detectives.
Admittedly, Sebastian Blue
and Laura Charme aren't exactly three-dimensional characters, who
appear to lean on the gimmick of being police-detectives without
borders, but they pleasantly reminded me of Robbie Corbijn and Lowina
de Jong – creations of Dutch mystery writer "Anne
van Doorn." A somewhat older, former policeman who mentors a
younger woman and they're occasionally confronted with an impossible
crime.
All in all, "The Case of
the Modern Medusa" has a cleverly constructed locked room problem
and would like to see more of Blue and Charme. So I'll definitely be
returning to this series and, predicatively, I'm already eyeballing "The Case of the Musical Bullet" (1974).

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