Newsletter

Get weekly updates from Caroline all about golden age detective fiction.

Murder at the Bookshop

Here are some bibliomysteries that you might want to try.

Dear listener,

For today's episode, I am looking at a setting that I suspect is very familiar to all of us avid readers: the bookshop.

A couple of months ago, I was reading Death of Mr Dodsley as part of my preparation for the Green Penguin Book Club episode about The Man in the Dark by John Ferguson. There were lots of things I liked about Mr Dodsley — the opening in the House of Commons, the character of private detective Francis McNab, his interactions with the police detectives — but above all what impressed me was how well Ferguson had integrated the bookshop setting into his murder plot. It wasn't an accident that this bookshop on the Charing Cross Road in London had ended up playing host to a corpse: the selling of books is integral both to the murderer's actions and the detective's methods in discovering them.

This book prompted me to wonder: are there many other golden age era murder mysteries that take advantage of a bookshop setting in this way? And so, today's episode came to be — an investigation of Murder at the Bookshop.

📣
You can listen to this episode right now on all major audio platforms (just click the icon of your preferred app here to jump right in) as well as on the podcast's website, where there is also a full transcript to read if you prefer that. New episodes are also available on YouTube. If you're in the UK, you can listen ad free on BBC Sounds.

Since in the episode I focused less on the individual books and more on the thematic correspondences between them, I thought that here I would offer you a brief introduction to each title I talked about so you can see if you would like to add any of them to your reading list.

Beginning With A Bash by Phoebe Atwood Taylor

This 1937 novel is part of the American golden age, which was comprised of work by US-based writers who chose to follow the puzzle-based fair play conventions popular in the UK during the interwar years rather than the hardboiled noir tradition then popular in their own country. Phoebe Atwood Taylor was a prolific crime writer from Boston, best known for her detective Asey Mayo, who was nicknamed the "Codfish Sherlock" because so many of his adventures take place in and around Cape Cod. I sampled one of these for myself for the Agatha Christie's Taste in Crime Fiction episode earlier this year.

Beginning with a Bash appeared under her Alice Tilton pseudonym and was the first in a series about a schoolteacher-turned-detective named Leonidas Witherall. At the start of this book, Witherall (who we are repeatedly told looks exactly like the well-known portrait of Shakespeare) is working as a janitor for a secondhand bookshop in Boston. The shop has recently been inherited by one Dot Peters, and on a particularly cold Saturday afternoon in the depths of winter, a former student of Witherall's named Martin Jones is chased into the shop by the police, wrongly accused of a theft. Then the body of a customer, a professor, is found among the untidy stacks, and Jones is arrested for the murder. Leonidas, Dot, and a Boston society matron called Agatha Jordan who also happened to be in the shop at the time of the crime decide to find the real culprit before Jones can be charged on the Monday morning. The ensuing hijinks see them discover a secret passage, get drawn into some gang warfare, and experience multiple car chases and shootouts. This is not an especially serious book, but there are sufficient puzzle elements to please the golden age fan who enjoys a lighter sort of adventure. I suspect fans of Agatha Christie's Tommy and Tuppence books might like this one.

Murder in the Bookshop by Carolyn Wells

Another American title, this time set in New York and published in 1936. Carolyn Wells was an exceptionally prolific author, publishing over 170 books in her lifetime. This was the 46th of the 62 books she wrote featuring private detective Fleming Stone. She really belonged to an earlier era of crime writing — she lived from 1862 to 1942 and cited Anna Katharine Green as a major influence. The puzzle elements of this tale about an obsessive and wealthy book collector murdered in the act of acquiring a valuable book signed by Founding Father Button Gwinnett are a bit sketchy, but it can still be enjoyed as a superficial romp.

Death in a Bookstore by Augusto De Angelis

Meanwhile, I was very glad to have started this project so that I ended up reading this book, first published in Italy in 1936. Augusto De Angelis was an Italian journalist who wrote 20 crime novels starring Commissario Carlo De Vincenzi of the Milan police. According to De Angelis's grandson, who wrote the introduction to the Kazabo edition, he has a claim to have created the first truly "Italian" detective (as opposed to previous characters who were clearly transplanted pastiches of pre-existing sleuths such as Sherlock Holmes). De Angelis was also a staunch anti-fascist who was murdered by Mussolini supporters in 1944.

Originally titled Sei donne e un libro (Six Women and a Book), this mystery follows Inspector De Vincenzi as he investigates the murder of a prominent Milanese surgeon and politician, who has been found dead in the backroom of a rather down at heel secondhand bookshop. The case takes him into the world of illicit book dealing and spiritualism societies, which was an interesting callback to an old episode, Knock Knock, about seances in mysteries. Above all, what impressed me about this book was the depth of De Vincenzi's character: he is a quiet, philosophical man who takes beliefs different to his own seriously. Above all, he just wants to escape Milan to the countryside so he can see the stars and think about the meaning of life. I'm so pleased to have discovered him and look forward to reading more of De Angelis's work.

Bodies in a Bookshop by R.T. Campbell

This book by the poet Ruthven Todd from 1946 probably dies with Death of Mr Dodsley as the best-plotted mystery I read for this episode. Todd was advised by his poet friend Cecil Day Lewis (aka Nicholas Blake) to write detective fiction as a means of supplementing his income, but to do it under a pseudonym so as not to sully his poetic reputation. Todd produced eight novels featuring a botanist-detective, Professor John Stubbs, in a very short space of time (under two years, I believe), but discontinued the enterprise when his publisher went bankrupt. This is the first of them that I have read and I enjoyed it very much until about four-fifths of the way through, when I began to feel rather let down by the solution.

Bodies in a Bookshop is narrated in the first person by Stubb's assistant and "Watson" figure, Max Boyle. One of the things I liked best about this book was Boyle's antipathy for his boss; no fawning adulation to be found here. Soon after discovering two bodies in a bookshop, Boyle says:

"If I wasn’t careful I would be hauled in as his Watson once again; I have no liking for playing Watson to the old man’s Sherlock. I haven’t the right kind of mind. I am not suitably astonished when he produces the solution like the rabbit from the conjuror’s topper. Much as I admire the Professor I have to confess that he irritates me almost beyond endurance."

Their bickering dynamic was great fun to read, complemented by the serene presence of a Scotland Yard inspector who thinks they are both ridiculous. There is also some decent critique of the detective fiction form in this book, with Stubbs being called out on his supposedly empirical method of detection, which really just involves accusing everyone in turn of the crime until he hits upon the right solution. Ending notwithstanding, this was another book I was glad to have thrown into my path and I hope to try more of the R.T. Campbell output in future. I'm intrigued by his debut, Unholy Dying, which is apparently set in Edinburgh at a conference of geneticists.

I hope you find something there to investigate further! I look forward to hearing about your bookshop mystery reading at a future date.

Until next time,

Caroline

You can listen to every episode of Shedunnit at shedunnitshow.com or on all major podcast apps. Selected episodes are available on BBC Sounds. There are also transcripts of all episodes on the website. The podcast is now newsletter-only — we're not updating social media — so if you'd like to spread the word about the show consider forwarding this email to a mystery-loving friend with the addition of a personal recommendation. Links to Blackwell’s are affiliate links, meaning that the podcast receives a small commission when you purchase a book there (the price remains the same for you).

Reading Recommendations: Paretsky, MacDonald, Lee, Mead

Dear listeners,

The month of July has flown by and it's time for another book recommendation newsletter, in which I and Shedunnit production assistant Leandra offer you a peek into our personal reading experience while we are working on the podcast. You can catch up with the last edition here and share your own reading plans in the comments here.


Caroline Has Read: Women on the Case edited by Sara Paretsky

I picked up this 1996 short story anthology on the sale shelf at my local library and have really enjoyed dipping into it over the past few months. It features a thought-provoking introduction by Sara Paretsky that connects the tradition of women's crime writing back to Anna Katharine Green, Elizabeth Barrett Browning and beyond. It then presents 26 original pieces of short fiction by writers including Ruth Rendell, Elizabeth George, Antonia Fraser and others.

I particularly liked "The Baroness" by Amanda Cross, which is about art theft and told over the course of a dinner eaten at the House of Lords, but lots of the others were enjoyable too. Long-time listeners will know that I don't get the time to read much late twentieth/early twenty-first century crime fiction, so having these short pieces to dip into gave me a good dose of private detectives and first-person thrillers amid all of my golden age reading without having to commit to entire novels.


Caroline Will Read: The Rasp by Philip MacDonald

As part of my eternal quest not to do everything for Shedunnit at the very last minute, I am getting a little ahead with my reading for Green Penguin Book Club. This is the next-but-one title to appear in the series and the episode won't be coming your way until November, but having enjoyed reading MacDonald's The Rynox Mystery for the recent Death on Paper episode, I decided to get stuck into this one now. I understand that it features a former spy turned amateur detective investigating a murder at a country house, so all the early signs point to a good time!


Leandra Has Read: The Dallergut Dream Department Store by Mi-Ye Lee

I have read quite a few translations this summer, and my absolute favourite has been The Dallergut Dream Department Store, a cosy fantasy translated from Korean. The setting is a village hidden in our collective subconscious, and within that village there's a department store that sells dreams. Visitors both human and animal peruse the dreams on offer, some looking for a good night's rest to soothe their anxieties while others simply need an inspiring mid-day nap.

This book truly is a warm, comforting hug! It follows the adventures of Penny, a new hire who has so much to learn, as she and her coworkers bring joy, relief, and even closure to their dreaming customers. The cast of characters is filled with lovable and eccentric personalities, Dallergut himself in particular, and it was a therapeutic experience to read the backstories of the dreamers in need. I was most impressed with Mi-Ye Lee's narrative organisation of the novel, gradually progressing from sleep-depriving experiences like anxiety and new love to deep-tissue subjects like trauma and grief. It's a short yet moving read, and I am already itching to return to this dream world with the sequel, Return to the Dallergut Dream Department Store.

Leandra Will Read: The House at Devil's Neck by Tom Mead

Not long ago, author Tom Mead joined Caroline for her ongoing Green Penguin Book Club series. Together, they read and discussed The Four Just Men by Edgar Wallace. I was especially excited about this guest appearance because I am a huge fan of Mead's Joseph Spector series. Ever since I read Death and the Conjuror back in 2022, it has become a tradition to read the next instalment in the series each summer.

Joseph Spector is a retired magician whose skills on the stage transfer quite nicely to sleuthing and assisting Scotland Yard with impossible crimes. While the impossible crime isn't my go-to trope, Spector is a fascinating sleuth to follow, and I enjoy seeing so many elements from the golden age of detective fiction infused into these historical mysteries set in the 1930s. I am fortunate to have received an Advanced Reader's Copy for Mead's fourth book in the series, The House at Devil's Neck by Tom Mead, which was released this July in the US and is scheduled for release in the UK on 14 August. This is the blurb for the new book:

"When a seance at an isolated old hospital turns deadly, amateur sleuth Joseph Spector pits his knowledge of stage magic against the seemingly supernatural."

If that doesn't convince you to try this series, I am not sure what will!


That's what we've got coming up reading-wise. What are you planning to read this month? Let us know by replying directly or by leaving a comment to join the conversation with other readers. If you'd like to follow our reading adventures in between these posts, I (try to) publish monthly reading updates on my blog/newsletter and Leandra documents what she's reading on her YouTube channel.

Until next time,

Caroline

Links to Blackwells are affiliate links; if you make a purchase at this retailer the price remains the same for you but the podcast receives a small commission for referring you.

Investigating a Death on Paper

Dear listener,

For today's new episode, I am venturing into the world of epistolary crime novels. This is the kind of mystery where the story is told through a series of letters or documents rather than a continuous prose narrative. There is a strong tradition of this format within crime fiction, from the Victorian era...

The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins, an epistolary crime novel from 1868

...to recent 2020s bestsellers like The Appeal by Janice Hallett. The attraction of this style of storytelling is the emphasis it puts on the game being played between writer and reader. And it's very much a game played on paper. With the primary evidence in the case — such as interview transcripts, diaries and newspaper cuttings — made available verbatim, the reader can take a much more active part in solving the mystery instead of just reading about the progress of the fictional detective. At the same time, creating and assembling the fragments gives the writer ample opportunity to conceal clues and create red herrings while appearing to share everything with the utmost transparency.

It's no surprise that this type of novel was particularly popular during the interwar golden age of detection, given that games and puzzles of all types were all the rage during these difficult years when people needed benign distractions. As I've previously covered on the podcast, crosswords were a big part of this puzzle craze, as were treasure hunts, board games and jigsaws. I think the recent success of novels like those of Janice Hallett, which are presented entirely as a dossier of documents, and puzzle books like Murdle, point to the fact that we are once more coping with hard times by immersing ourselves in fictional riddles and mysteries.

📣
You can listen to this episode right now on all major audio platforms (just click the icon of your preferred app here to jump right in) as well as on the podcast's website, where there is also a full transcript to read if you prefer that. New episodes are also available on YouTube. If you're in the UK, you can listen ad free on BBC Sounds.

One of the things I came to enjoy about epistolary crime novels as I was working on this episode was the visual variety that the format offers. And the newsletter offers me the chance to showcase some of my favourite examples!

Let's look first at Death on the Down Beat by Sebastian Farr, which is the book I teased at the end of last week's newsletter.

Carrying the excellent subtitle of "an orchestral fantasy of detection", this novel is formed from letters written by a Scotland Yard Inspector to his wife while he is away investigating the murder of an orchestra conductor mid-concert.

What makes it stand out to me, though, are the other elements that he includes to help her understand the case alongside his letters, such as an extract from the score for the music that the orchestra was playing at the fatal moment:

We also get a full list of all the orchestra personnel and their ranks:

Plus this hand-drawn plan of their seating arrangements:

I'm also partial to the way Nicholas Blake uses the epistolary elements of his 1938 novel The Beast Must Die to bamboozle the reader.

Look at this diaristic opening! It's so dramatic:

Pray, a moment for this rather fun cover for Busman's Honeymoon:

This isn't an entirely epistolary novel, of course, but the "Prothalamion" section at the start is told in this way via letters and diary extracts. Hopefully you can see some of the different elements on the page here broken up by italic headings:

Finally, to end where we began, I wanted to highlight that you can get an edition of The Moonstone that is introduced by Dorothy L. Sayers (look for secondhand copies of the J. M. Dent & Sons edition from the 1940s):

I think this one does a nice, understated job of introducing each new epistolary element of the narrative:

I hope you enjoy one or more of these books after listening to the episode, and perhaps find a renewed appreciation for the effort that goes into crafting a mystery this way.

Until next time,

Caroline

You can listen to every episode of Shedunnit at shedunnitshow.com or on all major podcast apps. Selected episodes are available on BBC Sounds. There are also transcripts of all episodes on the website. The podcast is now newsletter-only — we're not updating social media — so if you'd like to spread the word about the show consider forwarding this email to a mystery-loving friend with the addition of a personal recommendation. Links to Blackwell’s are affiliate links, meaning that the podcast receives a small commission when you purchase a book there (the price remains the same for you).