The Corpse That Never Was (1963) by Brett Halliday

Davis Dresser was an American crime writer and creator of the well-known, Miami-based private eye, Mike Shayne, who enjoyed "a long, successful, multi-media career" covering nearly 80 novels, hundreds of short stories, movies, TV-and radio shows and comic books – all done under the name "Brett Halliday." There even was a crime digest, Mike Shayne Mystery Magazine, which ran from 1956 to 1985 and each issue featured "a novella about the eponymous detective." Dresser largely retired from writing in the late 1950s and heavily relayed on ghostwriters like Robert Arthur, Richard Deming, Dennis Lynds and Bill Pronzini. 

I called Brett Halliday a hardboiled counterpart to Ellery Queen and not merely on account of the multimedia franchise, employing ghostwriters and a long-running mystery magazine. Mike Shayne is not your average, dime rack detective who drinks, shoots and wisecracks his way through a case. While he's no stranger to fistfights, Shayne seldom uses a gun and prefers to rely on his brain to crack a tough nut. Sometimes, "Shayne solved classical locked room mysteries" as in Murder and the Married Virgin (1944) and This Is It, Michael Shayne (1950). That's how The Corpse That Never Was (1963) appeared on my radar as it's essentially a who-and howdunit without any of the hardboiled trappings and the promise of a locked room puzzle. But before delving into the story, the authorship of the book needs to be acknowledged. 

The Corpse That Never Was is listed in several places as having been ghostwritten by an unidentified house author, but, while reading, it struck me it might have been the work of Dennis Lynds – whose work as "William Arden" has been discussed on this blog in the past. So decided to play genre archaeologist and digging around the internet brought an archived post from May 4, 2005, to the surface in which Lynds was asked if he wrote The Corpse That Never Was. Lynds had an interesting answer, "when you ask if I wrote some of Dave's novels, you must remember that except for the last one, what I wrote was a 30,000 or 20,000 word novelette for MSMM for which I was paid 11/2 cent a word, which Dave then bought from me for about $500 and rewrote it into a 40,000-odd word novel in his own style." So "with that context, yes, I wrote The Corpse That Never Was" and "you can find it in MSMM probably under a different title." Lynds played the Frederic Dannay to Dresser's Manfred B. Lee. Now that's out of the way, let's take a closer look at the story itself. 

The Corpse That Never Was begins very homely with Mike Shayne, "completely and utterly relaxed as he had ever been in his life," enjoying a home cooked meal prepared by his devoted secretary, Lucy Hamilton. But the peaceful evening is shattered when they hear "the dull, muffled sound of an explosion" coming from inside the apartment house almost directly above them. Shayne rushes up the stairs where he finds residents of the building crowded around a locked front door halfway down "knocking on the door and rattling the knob and talking excitedly." So, as a man of action, Shayne drove his right shoulder with hundred and ninety pounds behind it against the door until it buckled. What he found inside the apartment were two bodies. The body of a once beautiful, expensively dressed woman lay in the middle of the sitting room with an overturned cocktail glass lying next to her on the rug. A few feet away, the body of a man was slumped in a deep, upholstered chair with a twelve gauge shotgun on the floor beside the chair and "the terrific force of exploding gases from the shotgun blast had literally blown the man's head from his shoulders."

Shayne discovered two suicide notes, signed Robert Lambert, which explains he and Elsa had decided to commit suicide, because his wife's religion makes it impossible for them to be together in life. So he has mixed two deadly drinks. 

The second note explains that the suicide pact had gone horribly wrong. Elsa had "tossed off boldly and happily" the poisoned drink, but Robert's drink fell to the floor and had to watch as Elsa died. This corresponds with a second cocktail glass and wet stain lying near the kitchen door. The second note ends with him telling that he has a shotgun in the closet and is going to finish the job without bungling it. Shayne remarked the next day, he had never seen "a more positively cut-and-dried double suicide set-up" than the one he crashed into last night. Only one problem. Elsa is the only daughter and sole heir of old Eli Armbruster, "one of the wealthiest men on the peninsula," who "wielded more behind-the-scenes influence on Dade County politics than any other single individual." Eli Armbruster refuses to buy the suicide pact theory and pays Shayne a ten thousand dollar retainer to find the truth with an additional fifty thousand dollars for evidence that will convict his son-in-law, Paul Nathan, of his daughter's murder.

Firstly, The Corpse That Never Was is not a locked room mystery. Yes, the front door to the apartment was locked and chain-bolted on the inside, but the bedroom window onto the fire escape was standing wide open. So no idea why some have called it a locked room mystery unless Lynds' original novelette can be counted as one. Even without the double murder having a locked room angle, it presents more than enough twists, turns and tricky questions to keep Shayne busy. Such as the mysterious identity of Robert Lambert, because nobody has any idea who he really was or how he could have "come out of nowhere" to "carry on a passionate liaison with one of the wealthiest women in Dade County" – nary a trace of who really was or where he came from. Or why Elsa had engaged the services of a shady private eye, named Max Wentworth, which eventually leads to the discovery of a third body. All throughout the story, Shayne acts as a cross between a private investigator and an official policeman as he pretty much gets a run of the place. Shayne even uses his client's money to pay the police department's forensic team to do a little overtime by going over the crime scene a second time. So he's pretty much occupied throughout the story with interviewing suspects or witnesses, gathering information and going over Max Wentworth's reports without any of the usual action or fights you come to expect from a hardboiled P.I. novel. Not even the obligatory blow to the back of the head, which these private eyes seem to take as regularly as a stiff drink. They really take more bumps than a professional wrestler. That's what really gave me the idea Lynds might have had a hand in it.

Some of you probably thought it was the vaguely promised locked room mystery and Lynds contributed a number of locked room mysteries to the genre (e.g. "The Bizarre Case Expert," 1970), but it could have just as easily been Richard Deming or someone else. The Corpse That Never Was discarded the usual hardboiled ingredients to present a much more conventional and cerebral detective problem, which also did in one of The Three Investigator novels he wrote as William Arden. The Mystery of the Headless Horse (1973) muted a lot of the usual adventurous and exciting elements normally obligatory in these juvenile mysteries as the three heroes have to dig through old archives, maps and yellowed letters to solve a 130-year-old family secret. Lynds obviously wanted to educate his young readers on the importance of proper research, critical reading and not to take everything on face value, but it brought the book to mind while reading The Corpse That Never Was. So it was nice surprise to discover my shot in the dark about the authorship hit home when I found that archived post.

But how well does The Corpse That Never Was stack up as a plot-driven detective story? I think most readers can probably make an educated guess about the main thrust of the plot as (ROT13) gur obbx-gvgyr naq n urnqyrff ivpgvz count as the least subtle nods and hints towards the solution in the book. The proper nods, hints and some genuine clues only confirm what you probably already suspect, but the plot, on a whole, is not bad. Admittedly, there are a few clever touches and details to the solution (ROT13/SPOILER: yvxr gur fubgtha oynfg boyvgrengvat obgu gur ivpgvz'f vqragvgl naq qrfgeblvat rivqrapr ur unq orra xabpxrq hapbafpvbhf). Just a little too much on the obvious side to be truly noteworthy. But it was fun to see an iconic gumshoe tackling a case as a normal detective who doesn't use his head to absorb blows and punches.

The One-Man Police Squad: "The Bizarre Case Expert" (1970) by William Arden

Dennis Lynds was an American crime writer of many pennames, such as "Michael Collins" and "John Crowe," under which he wrote modern private-eye stories, pulp thrillers and movie novelizations, but, as a pen-for-hire, he also became a prolific contributor to The Three Investigators series – using the pseudonym "William Arden." So I always associate that penname with his juvenile detective fiction.

However, Lynds also used the Arden byline for a short, but pioneering, series of corporate espionage novels and a single short story that was listed by Robert Adey in Locked Room Murders (1991).

"The Bizarre Case Expert" was originally published in the June, 1970, issue of Ellery Queen's Mystery Magazine and republished in Ellery Queen's Master of Mysteries (1975). Interestingly, the brief introduction to the story asks the question "are we experiencing a renaissance of the Locked Room mystery?" At the time, more "locked-room detective stories have been submitted to EQMM in recent months" than usually come their way in years, but, happily, "the locked-room 'tec theme is now being revived" with "more ingenious plots than you would expect" – which is in line with my observation that the 1970-and 80s were the genre's Silver Age.

As an aside, Lynds produced a genuine locked room mystery during the seventies, The Mystery of the Shrinking House (1972), but a fairly minor work compared "The Bizarre Case Expert." A short story that strangely avoided being included in every anthology impossible crime anthology published since the 1980s.

The titular expert is Detective Sergeant Joseph Marx, of the Central Squad, where all of the dead-end cases filter through before they're consigned to the Unsolved File, but Detective Sergeant Marx is tasked with reviewing the so-called "circus cases." These are pretty much the unusual cases that have stumped the precincts.

"The Bizarre Case Expert" begins when a two-day old, dead-end case ends up on his desk from the Tenth Precinct on Diamond Hill. A major problem with this particular case is that not even the police knew the exact nature of the problem facing them, because it could be "a locked room or a perfect alibi or a vanished weapon," which left them in a hole – so DS Marx had to dig them out. The problem and setup of the murder is truly mystifying.

Patrolmen Sid Lewis and Ed Lincoln responded to a noise complaint at Laguna Terrace, but, when they arrive, the apartment 6-B is deadly quiet. The front door, locked and chained from the inside, had to be broken open and inside they find the body of the tenant, Sally Tower, who had been killed with multiple blows to the head. Some feet away, lay the body of her ex-husband, Paul Tower, who had received a serious blow to the head. A blow that even broke his nose and rendered Tower "instantly unconscious." However, he lived to tell the story. According to his story, a tall man with a mask had entered the apartment through the fire-escape window and attacked them. But this is patently impossible!

The fire-escape window was open, but various neighbors had it under constant observation and nobody saw a prowler going up or down the fire-escape. One of these witnesses was a invalided woman who lost sight of that part of the building for a minute. So this suggests Paul Tower is the murderer, but this is equally impossible according to the medical examiner, because he simply could not have wounded himself or had the time at his disposal to hid the murder weapon – which adds another layer to this locked room conundrum when it's found. A delightfully, maze-like and original premise with an inventive solution that succeeded in winking at both the traditional detective story and the modern police procedural.

Sadly, the lack of clueing prevented "The Bizarre Case Expert" from attaining the status of classic locked room story. Arden gave to the reader nothing to even form a rough idea of what happened in that apartment, which detracted from a great and novel ending.

In summation, "The Bizarre Case Expert" has a tantalizingly baffling premise with a pleasantly satisfying conclusion, but the plot missed an essential ingredient to make it something truly special. Nonetheless, the multi-layered impossibility and solution still makes it recommendable to dedicated readers of impossible crime stories and should be considered for inclusion in a future locked room anthology.

The Mystery of the Dead Man's Riddle (1974) by William Arden

The Mystery of the Dead Man's Riddle (1974) is the twenty-second book in The Three Investigator series and the sixth title penned by "William Arden," a penname of Dennis Lynds, who has become my favorite contributor to this series and this fast-paced, cleverly concocted story demonstrates why. A near classic example of the code-breaker.

Traditionally, the book begins with an introduction by the reluctant mentor of the three boys, Alfred Hitchcock, who denies any involvement in the shenanigans of the late Marcus "Dingo" Towne. Hitchcock tells the reader that "the old scoundrel" had no right to involve him "in his scheme from beyond the grave," but humbly points out that without his cunning the problem would have remained unsolved, because he handed over the case Jupiter "Jupe" Jones, Pete Crenshaw and Bob Andrews – known locally as "the junior detective team" of The Three Investigators. And they tackle the problem with a great deal of energy, enthusiasm and determination.

Marcus "Dingo" Towne was an old Australian, "who made his pile by hard work," but sees no reason to it all to his "shiftless, greedy, stupid and otherwise useless" family. So he only left his daughter-in-law, grandson, niece and nephew "the sum of $1.00 each."

What remained of Dingo's hard-earned pile was turned into gemstones. A million dollars worth of opals, sapphires, rubies and emeralds, which belongs to the person clever enough to find it – which can be done by cracking a six-part riddle. Dingo was a cunning man who laughed to taunt and laugh at people. This is reflected in his complex, multi-layered riddle that's loaded with hidden riddles, double clues and even "a shortcut clue" that can only really be spotted by readers with an encyclopedic mind with a storage capacity for arcane knowledge.

Dingo had appointed Hitchcock ("who likes mystery") as one of his executors and he's contacted by Dingo's daughter-in-law, Molly Towne, who's worried that her almost 8-year-old son, Billy, is getting cheated out of his inheritance. Her fiance and lawyer, Roger Callow, plans to challenge the will in court, but, by that time, the gemstones might already be found. And the finder has no reason to come forward. So the famous movie-director advised them to give Jupe, Pete and Bob a chance to crack the code.

However, they soon find out that this is not going to be one of those ordinary, dime-a-dozen treasure hunts of popular juvenile fiction, but an out-and-out rat race.

When they arrive at the saggy, dilapidated house of Dingo, there's a crowd "swarming the property like ants" and fighting over a collection of empty bottles in the yard that are being mistaken for clues – one of the treasure seekers is their long-time nemesis, "Skinny" Norris. Unsurprisingly, Norris acts like a proper nuisance throughout the story and is responsible for the thrilling scene depicted on the covers of practically every edition of this title. This time, his actions aren't merely motivated by his dislike for the three detectives, particularly Jupe, but by an opportunity to upstage them by finding a small fortune in precious stones. And this is one of the many aspects that makes The Mystery of the Dead Man's Riddle standout in the series.

There are, however, more people who try to get their hands on the gems or appear to be very interested in the movements of Jupe, Pete and Bob.

Cecil and Winifred Percival are Dingo's niece and nephew from England and they're proper pair of Disney-like villains who come within inches of getting the treasure, but the boys are also shadowed by two men in a blue car – one of them being a giant of a man. But they also have a loyal ally in Billy Towne. The 8-year-old wants to be a detective, who even appears at one point wearing a cape and deerstalker, but Billy proves to be a burden during the first half of the story. However, he's able to redeem himself by solving one of the riddles and used their Ghost-to-Ghost Hookup to help the trio out of a real jam. A great example of how to use such a young character in a mystery story.

These characters are roaming around Rocky Beach, California, which is fantastically employed here by Arden and constantly moving these characters across the map is what this such a fun, fast-paced novel. One of my favorite scenes is when they take the bus out of town to followup on a clue, based on fare zones and the travel habits of Dingo, but on their way back they see the Percivals are on their track. And a sweaty, red-faced Norris is seen digging holes around a billboard. This really gives you an idea that this is a race and not a leisure treasure hunt.

But the absolute highlight of the story is how every event and character are either directly linked or interconnected, which means that everything has a reason without a single side-distraction to pad out the plot – something I feared would be the case when the two gangsters turned up. Even they had a reason for being present that linked up with the main plot. This also goes for the people who witnessed the will and were assigned executor to the quaint tea shop Dingo used to frequent. There are puzzle-pieces all over the place!

So the plot is pretty tight and the only thing that can be said against it's not a solve-it-yourself type of detective story. I guess you can compare the plot-structure of The Mystery of the Dead Man's Riddle with G.K. Chesterton's "The Blue Cross" from The Innocence of Father Brown (1911).

As impressive as the tricky plot of this juvenile mystery is how Arden made the lingering presence of Dingo's forceful personality emerge as an omniscient puppeteer by the end of the story. Dingo came out on top as the undisputed winner and he did it without even taking a breath. What can I say? Beware the Eternal Aussie!

So, all in all, The Mystery of the Dead Man's Riddle is a well-written, fast-paced and nicely characterized entry in the series with a code-breaker plot that makes it rank alongside The Mystery of the Whispering Mummy (1965), The Secret of Skeleton Island (1966), The Mystery of the Shrinking House (1972) and The Mystery of the Headless Horse (1977).

The Secret of Shark Reef (1979) by William Arden

The Secret of Shark Reef (1979) is the thirtieth outing of that "intrepid trio" from Rocky Beach, California, which was written by the lauded crime novelist and pen-for-hire, Dennis Lynds – who wrote under the name of "William Arden" for this series. The book is an important one as it marked the final appearance of the famous mentor of the boys, Alfred Hitchcock, consequently ending the second chapter of the series. A chapter that began when the series-creator, Robert Arthur, passed away and passed on the torch.

Fittingly, the final case of this last great period of The Three Investigators, as the last thirteen books are generally held in lower regard, turned out to be a memorable one – which brings Jupe, Pete and Bob to an oil-platform in the ocean off Santa Barbara. Despite what the book covers suggests, the menacing-looking sharks are the least of their problems!

The father of one of the investigators, Bob Andrews, is a newspaper reporter and is asked by his paper to write a story on the troubles faced by the first oil-rig in the blue waters of the Santa Barbara Channel. A group of environmentalists are trying to prevent them from drilling, because the Channel Islands are practically untouched and are teeming with birds, plants and marine life.

So Mr. Andrews asked his son if he, alongside with his two friends, would like to accompany him on his trip, but he also a surprise for them when they arrive at the oil-rig.

The chairman of the protest committee is a well-known mystery novelist, John Crowe, who honors "the junior detective team" by requesting one of their famous calling cards for his collection of mystery mementos. And even more importantly, Crowe has a problem for them to solve that concerns the lead boat of the committee. A fast, powerful craft that consumes a great deal of fuel, but the captain of the Sea Wind always makes a careful calculation to ensure there's enough fuel in the craft to remain at sea the full twelve hours they try to keep up the protest – except that they inexplicably ran out of fuel three times in the past week. There were no leaks in the fuel tanks or lines and the engine checked out. So what happened to the lost fuel?

On a side note, I did find it funny and somewhat ironic that the protesters, who oppose the oil-rigs and have formed a "flotilla of boats" around the platforms, are bugged by a chronic fuel shortage. And all the while they're chanting "heck no, oil must go" and "hey, hey wha'd'ya say, how much oil will you spill today." Unintentionally funny. Anyway...

Jupiter "Jupe" Jones is the brains of the team and he carefully studies the logbook of the Sea Wind, Crowe's notebook and charts of the islands, which tells him exactly how the fuel was lost. However, this answer immediately poses the problem of who, or what, is responsible for the lost.

As the boys grapple with this problem, the athletic Pete Crenshaw gets an opportunity to slip into a wet-suit and search for a potential solution under water. Bob Andrews, on the other hand, has to tackle a problem that Sam Spade, Philip Marlowe and Lew Archer never had to wreck their brains about: how do you follow a suspect into a bar where no minors are allowed? So this keeps them busy until a hurricane rocks the regions and temporarily brings an obscure passage from the Second World War to the surface, which is revealed to be the true driving force behind everything that happened around the oil-rigs.

At this point in the story, it really becomes a matter how they'll resolve the case, because the (main) villain is very obvious after this revelation. And this will naturally lead to some tight spots as the boys have to tangle with the perpetrators and they get help from an unexpected ally.

So there's not much else I can say about the plot, or story, except that the World War II plot-thread was better handled than the environmental background, which gave me 'Nam-like flashbacks to Captain Planet. A cartoon show that was supposed to teach children to recycle and take care of the environment, but was so preachy that all it made me want to do was litter and fill the oceans with non-degradable plastics.

Luckily, the plot of The Secret of Shark Reef only showed, without preaching, before (largely) moving on to the obscure, long-lost secret that was hidden beneath the waters of the Santa Barbara Channel. I think this secret, along with the answer to who and what was responsible for the fuel lost, constitutes the best parts of the book. Combined with some splendid scenes, like when the hurricane hit, makes this a splendid read of the wild sea, sharks, sabotage and "monstrous shapes that rise from the ocean." And a fond farewell to the long-time mentor of the boys, Alfred Hitchcock.

On that note, I want to remark that Hitchcock's successor in the series makes no sense now that I have read this book. I have not read the next book in the series, M.V. Carey's The Mystery of the Scar-Faced Beggar (1981), but I know it introduces a fictional replacement for the famous movie-director, Hector Sebastian – who acted as a mentor to Jupe, Pete and Bob until their last case (The Mystery of the Cranky Collector, 1987). However, that role should have gone to the character of John Crowe, because "John Crowe" is one of Dennis Lynds' pseudonyms. Lynds was picked by Arthur to continue the series and perhaps therefore he came up with the name "William Arden," because he was going to act as a warden to the boys. And, therefore, his fictional counterpart would have been perfect to fill the gap that Hitchcock left behind when he passed away in 1980. It makes sense, right?

Anyway, my next post will probably be either a review of Case Closed or a promising looking detective novel from the 1920s. So you have that to look forward to!

The Sword of Cortés

"We won't let any headless horses get the better of us."

- Lord Peter Wimsey (Dorothy L. Sayers' "The Undignified Melodrama of the Bone of Contention," from Lord Peter Views the Body, 1928)

The Mystery of the Headless Horse (1977) is the twenty-sixth recorded case of Jupiter "Jupe" Jones, Pete Crenshaw and Bob Andrews, "those maddeningly industrious young sleuths," but only the eighth novel a well-known pen-for-hire, Dennis Lynds, contributed to the casebook of The Three Investigators – all of them appearing under his penname of "William Arden." I think this was one of his stronger efforts.

Jupe, Pete and Bob hail from Rocky Beach, California, which plays a bigger role than usual in this semi-historical mystery-and adventure novel.

Surprisingly, The Mystery of the Headless Horse opens on the front-steps of Rocky Beach Central School, because the reader rarely gets a glimpse of their school activities. They always seemed too busy living the Jonny Quest lifestyle to hang around with classmates once the afternoon bell ended a school day, but Pete was asked by a fellow student, Diego Alvaro, to bring Jupe to the gate of the athletic field after school. Pete got the impression he wanted to talk about something important.

Diego comes from an old Spanish bloodline dating all the way back to the time when Europeans first came to the New World and one of his earliest ancestors, Carlos Alvaro, was a soldier with "the conquistador Hernando Cortés when he defeated the Aztec Empire" and "conquered southern Mexico" - which was all the way back in 1521. A century or two later, Rodrigo Alvaro decided to settle down in the area of present-day Rocky Beach and asked the provincial governor of California for a land grant. Governors of Mexico and California were allowed to give away grants on behalf of the King of Spain.

So the Alvaro family came into possession of five square leagues ("more than twenty-two thousand acres"), but the estate has since dwindled to a mere one hundred acres of land.

A barely profitable piece of land with a recent mortgage attached to it. However, the property is greedily eyed by their neighbor, Mr. Norris, who wants one huge ranch by buying up all the land surrounding it. Mr. Norris is also the father of the arch-nemesis of the three detectives, "Skinny" Norris, who makes his last appearance here, because, this time, his actions has consequences.

So, in order to keep their land, Diego and his older brother, Pico, need to raise money and they decided to sell the furniture, art, books, tools and such that the family has accumulated over several generations and the person who would gladly pay a good price for them is Jupe's Uncle Titus – who owns the Jones Salvage Yard that's famous along the entire coast of southern California. However, a fierce brush fire claimed the Alvaro home and the barn they used as a storage for their family treasures.

Jupe, Pete and Bob are left with only one, very remote, chance to help Diego save what's left of his family estate: solving a 130 year old family mystery about a missing, gem-encrusted sword that was lost during the Mexican War.

After the brush fire, the boys discovered that the wooden statue of Cortés on horseback, which stands on a ridge looking out over the land, had the head of the horse knocked off when a cylinder of fire-retardant chemicals was dropped from a helicopter or plane. But this accident led them to the discovery of a very old sword cover inside the hollow neck of the horse's head. A discovery that immediately brings the family legend of "the Cortés Sword" to mind.

According to the Alvaro family history, the previously mentioned Carlos, "the first Alvaro in the New World," once saved his fellow soldiers from an ambush and Cortés presented him with a ceremonial, gem-encrusted sword with a solid gold hilt as reward for saving their lives. The sword had been given to Cortés by the King of Spain. So the sword became a treasured family heirloom for hundreds of years, but went missing in 1846, at the start of the Mexican War, when Sebastián Alvaro was reportedly shot by American soldiers when trying to escape arrest and was seen falling into the ocean – with a sword in hand.

The case looks pretty hopeless and the trail has been stone cold for more than a century, but the boys do a marvelous job at reconstructing the past. Admittedly, they act here more as historians than as detectives. A good portion of their investigation is done at the Rocky Beach Public Library, Rocky Beach Historical Society and the County Land Office where they go over old newspaper articles, letters bound journals of local residents from the nineteenth century, US army reports and crumbling maps.

What they find are some interesting inconsistencies in the reports about Don Sebastián's death and the fact that all of the soldiers who were involved with the arrest deserted, and thoroughly disappeared, after they filed their report. They also astutely identified an apparently non-existent place, called "Condor Castle," in one of the old letters. Obviously, Arden attempted to impart a little bit of knowledge to his young readers. Not just by giving them some historical pointers, but also showing the value of proper research, critical reading of texts and to not always accept everything on face value, but to think for yourself – which is the best kind of advice any kind of mystery novel could give you.

I'm not sure how much the youngest readers of this series would appreciate the historical examination of the past, but, surely, the older readers will be able to enjoy it. I should also point out that Arden took a similar approach with the plot of The Secret of Phantom Lake (1973), but I think it worked much better in this one.

Well, The Mystery of the Headless Horse is not just about digging into old archives, studying even older maps and flipping through yellowed, brittle pages. They also have to deal with the aftermath of the brush fire, which gets Pico arrested, coming on top of the meddling by Skinny and the Norris' ranch manager, Cody. All of this leads to a tight spot somewhat reminiscent to the cave exploration from Arden's The Mystery of the Moaning Cave (1968), but the cherry on top is when Jupe figured out where Don Sebastián had hidden the sword. A solution that tore a page from Edgar Allan Poe's famous "The Purloined Letter," a short story from 1844, which was a nice revelation and a good way to end a long, exhaustive search. I do have to wonder if the sword could really have been hidden there, for a 130 years, without being found sooner, but that's really nitpicking on my part.

So, all in all, another fun, amusing and even clever entry in this series and would even place the book among my small list of favorites, which is currently made up of The Mystery of the Whispering Mummy (1965), The Secret of Skeleton Island (1966) and The Mystery of the Shrinking House (1972). Guess that makes The Mystery of the Headless Horse number four on that list and that's not bad considering I read about a dozen titles from this series.

I'll probably return to this series before too long, but the next blog-post will be of a good, old-fashioned Golden Age detective. I'm just not sure yet whether it'll be a regular whodunit or a locked room mystery. Only time will tell, I guess.

The Chumash Hoard

"But knowing you boys, nothing would surprise me – not even your finding treasure where there isn't any."

- Mr. Crenshaw (Robert Arthur's The Secret of Skeleton Island, 1966)

The Mystery of the Laughing Shadow (1969) is the twelfth recorded case of those three young lads, Jupiter "Jupe" Jones, Pete Crenshaw and Bob Andrews, who established themselves as The Three Investigators in their native stomping ground of Rocky Beach, California – where cases are (literally) for the picking. And this entry in the series is a case in point.

It was the second novel penned by Robert Arthur's handpicked successor, Dennis Lynd, who adopted the penname of "William Arden" for this series, which first appeared on the book-cover of The Mystery of the Moaning Cave (1968). He also put this name to one of the most classically-styled case for the three detectives, The Mystery of the Shrinking House (1972). However, the book under review today is more of an adventurous yarn, with criminal elements and long-lost treasure, than a proper detective story. One that was practically thrown into their laps.

Bob and Pete are pedaling home on their bicycles, after spending a day in the mountains, when they pass the high wall enclosing the Sandow estate and are startled by a sudden cry, "HELP," coming out of the night – followed by an object being thrown over the enclosure. They hear several voices and eventually a shadowy figure emerges from the iron gate in the wall: a "tall, twisted and humpbacked" entity with "a long, beaky nose and a small head" that "jerked about in an erratic way." A wild laughter came from the tall figure and this unnerved the boys.

They observed all of this from a thick growth of bushes near the wall and high-tailed out of their once the gate closed behind the laughing shadow.

Jupe was unable to accompany his friends on their mountain excursion, because he had to work in his Uncle Titus salvage yard, but "the stocky First Investigator of the trio" makes up for lost time by finding a hidden compartment in the amulet that was thrown over the wall. The amulet is a golden figurine of a sitting Indian with a feathered headdress and a hidden compartment in the bottom contained a small of piece of paper, which was covered in strange writing and the ink looked as if it might be blood!

Their famous mentor and promoter, Alfred Hitchcock, referred them to a friend of his, Professor Meeker, who's an expert in American-Indian languages and from him they learn about "a mystery that is almost two hundred years old" - namely the long sought after Chumash Hoard. Between 1790 and 1820, the Spanish were trying to cope with a dangerous band of marauding Indians, the Chumash, who were given gold to leave the settlers alone. By the time they were finally beaten, they reputedly hoarded a King's ransom worth of gold, but their last leader, before dying, only hinted that "it is in the eye of the sky where no man can find it." So how's that for a dying message?

However, the truly baffling part is that the writing, in blood, they found inside the amulet was Yaquali, which is the language of a Mexican-based tribe, known as the Devils of the Cliff, who have "a long record of shunning civilization." So that makes for a nice historical mystery, but the problem for the trio began en route to the home of the professor. A dark man in white, brandishing "a long, wicked-looking knife," took the amulet from them. Dark men in white, carrying knives, are constantly roaming in the background of the story, but they're not the only ones posing problems and potential dangers to the boys.

Jupe, Pete and Bob want to snoop around the Sandow estate, which belongs to the reclusive Sarah Sandow, but before they can piece together a plan one of her relatives turns up at the Salvage Yard. A young boy, named Ted Sandow, who tells them he's staying with his Great-Aunt Sarah and she has barn full of a old junk from years ago – which she wants to dispose of. But what worries the boys is that Ted got to them through their arch-nemesis, "Skinny" Norris. There's also a friend of Sarah Sandow, one Mr. Harris, who is the president of the local Vegetarian League and was attacked during a lecture by the previously mentioned knife-wielding victims.

So, all of this, provides more than enough trouble for the trio and they find themselves in a number of tight spots, like getting locked up inside an empty house, which for a fun, fast-paced and very quick read. The fact that this is not as much of a mystery novel, like The Mystery of the Whispering Mummy (1965) and the previously mentioned The Mystery of the Shrinking House, makes it easier to forgive some of its spots.

One of biggest weak spots was pointed out and mocked by the "Puzzle Doctor." He reviewed the book, exactly one year ago (!), pointed out (and spoiled) the ridiculous explanation for the misshapen, laughing shadow Bob and Pete saw in the opening chapter. Even for a novel geared towards younger readers it was a bit, uhm, silly. I appreciated a famous detective story was used as, sort of, a clue, but that part of the plot was hilariously bad. 

Speaking of clues, Jupe and Pete see the laughing shadow in front of a lodge, inside the Sandow estate, where they witness how the figure ushers, what appears to be, four small figures through the front-door – none of them seems to have a head! The answer to this is pretty simple, but relevant to the treasure hunt and made for a nice little set-piece.

Some parts of the ending can be, as said before, rather silly, but the only real problem I had was with the hiding place for the hoard of gold, which makes you wonder why nobody bothered to look there. I mean, there's a local legend of an Indian treasure and hints referring to "the eye of the sky." Yet nobody, locally, thought to take a look there? You know, the culprit was right: most people there must have been "stupid" or "the Chumash Hoard would have been found long ago."

So, yes, a very quick, fun and amusing read, but, plot-wise, not one of the strongest or cleverest story in the series. As a consequence, I can only really recommend The Mystery of the Laughing Shadow to readers who already enjoy tagging along with The Three Investigators (i.e. fans of the series). Otherwise, I would recommend looking for one of the other titles mentioned (and praised) in this blog-post. 

A Prize to Pay

"But in the circus you never know what kind of house you're going to have. It's especially difficult with children."

- Dodo the Clown (Alan Melville's Death of Anton, 1936)

The Secret of the Crooked Cat (1970) is the thirteenth case for that troop of meddlesome kids, who are known in the area of Rocky Beach, California, as The Three Investigators, which was penned by an award-winning crime novelist and pen-for-hire, Dennis Lynds – writing here under the name of "William Arden." Lynds was one of the three most frequent contributors to the series and wrote the excellent The Mystery of the Shrinking House (1972).

The third book he wrote for the series, The Secret of the Crooked Cat, begins on an afternoon in early September as Uncle Titus, owner of the Jones Salvage Yard, comes to the boys with an unusual chore. He wants a pair of washtubs painted in red, white and blue stripes! It is, quite literally, an odd-job, but they were given to understand that the painted tubs were to be delivered to the star of Carson's Colossal Carnival: The Great Ivan and Rajah – The World's Greatest Performing Lion. Ivan wants to use them as seats for Rajah.

So "the boys went to work with a will" and a short time later they were ready to personally deliver the lion seats to the carnival, which is where they find their next case. One that offers them an impossible problem in the style of Fredric Brown and Clayton Rawson. 

Jupe, Pete and Bob took a spin on the Ferris wheel and amused themselves with the antics of a small, fat clown, but, when they headed to the game booths, they witness a man arguing with the boy operating the shooting gallery – yelling "you're a cheat" and "give me that prize." Suddenly, the tall man with the moustache, dark glasses and slouch hat snatched a stuffed animal from the hands of the boy and began to run. He briefly entangled himself with the trio of investigators, but eventually managed to fled and run around a jutting corner of a high wooden fence. As one of the guards observed, "it's a dead end round that corner." The thief seemed to have trapped himself!

However, when they went after him they arrived on a completely empty spot: the high fence was on the right and the deep water of the ocean on the left. There "was no way out except the way they had come in," but the only trace the thief had left behind was the stuffed animal. Later on, they learn this person pulled-off a similar vanishing act when he was chased into "a totally blind alley" by the police.

Sadly, the explanation for these two impossible disappearances are exactly what you'd expect from a detective story with a carnival background. It's very carny and hinges on the talent of a particular carnival worker, which makes it a good thing that this aspect of the plot was only minor part in the motor of the plot – which centered on the question of who and why anyone would want to steal a plush toy.

The boy who operates the shooting gallery, Andy Carson, is the son of the carnival's proprietor, Mr. Carson, who kind of tags along with Jupe, Pete and Bob on this case. It's from Andy that they learn he had already handed out several stuffed cats, as the big prize in the gallery, but the one that was snatched from his hands was the last one of the lot. So what was the reason? As they probe deeper, they discover that the carnival has been plagued by very costly accidents: several ponies had died of food poisoning, three tents were burned down and the young investigators themselves were present when the lion escaped from his cage – giving an opportunity to Pete to play the hero and Jupe later determines someone had picked the padlock of the cage.

So they've to conclude they're dealing with a saboteur, as well as a sneak thief, which lures them into several dangerous and life-threatening situations, but the best part of the book is perhaps the backdrop of the story. The carnival background is well conceived and convincingly drawn, which subtly describes a struggling business in a trade that had its golden days behind it and had to grapple with the modern world. Andy tells the boys early on the story that security is a problem, because "people are always trying to steal from carnivals." For this alone, The Secret of the Crooked Cat comes recommended to readers who love mysteries with a carnival or circus background.

Finally, the plot, itself, is rather simplistic, even a bit ridiculous in some aspects, but there's a twist in the tail of the story that's pure Scooby-Doo. There's an unmasking scene at the end of the story and several disguises have to be peeled away to reveal the face of the villain, but the best part is that the bad guy uttered the following sentence, "I'd have got away except for those stupid kids." 

So, yes, the book can be a bit silly and there have been better plots in the series, but The Secret if the Crooked Cat is a fun adventure/mystery and one that uses its carnival background to full effect. I would say this was a pretty decent entry in the series.     

Other books reviewed in this series: The Secret of Terror Castle (1964), The Mystery of the Whispering Mummy (1965), The Mystery of the Vanishing Treasure (1966), The Secret of Skeleton Island (1966), The Mystery of the Moaning Cave (1968), The Secret of the Crooked Cat (1970), The Mystery of the Shrinking House (1972), The Secret of Phantom Lake (1973) and The Mystery of the Invisible Dog (1975).