The Spiral Staircase by Ethel Lina White

Originally published as Some Must Watch in 1933, this is a reissue by Pushkin Vertigo under the title The Spiral Staircase – the name of the 1946 film adaptation. I’ve previously read two other novels by Ethel Lina White – The Wheel Spins and Fear Stalks the Village – and enjoyed both, although I found the former slightly disappointing in comparison with Alfred Hitchock’s wonderful The Lady Vanishes, which is based on it. This book has turned out to be my favourite of the three!

Almost the entire novel is set within the walls of the Summit, a lonely country house near the Welsh/English border. Adding to the sense of tension and claustrophobia, the main events of the story also take place over the course of a single evening. As the novel opens, we learn that four murders have recently been committed – the first two in the nearest town, which is over twenty miles away, the next slightly closer, and the fourth in another country house just five miles from the Summit. All four victims were young women and their deaths are on Helen Capel’s mind as she returns to the Summit after her afternoon off and is convinced that she sees a man hiding behind a tree in the dark.

Helen has just started a new job as ‘help’ to the Warren family – Miss Warren and her brother, known as the Professor, and their elderly, bedridden stepmother, Lady Warren. At the start of the novel, the Professor’s son and his wife are staying at the house, as is a student of the Professor’s, Stephen Rice. The rest of the household is made up of two more domestic servants, Mr and Mrs Oates, and the newly arrived Nurse Barker, who has been employed to look after Lady Warren.

When news of another murder, closer than ever this time, reaches the family, the Professor orders that all the doors are locked and everyone stays inside until morning. These should be easy enough instructions to follow, yet for a variety of reasons, one person after another leaves the house or becomes otherwise incapacitated. As a storm rages outside and the tension builds inside, Helen is forced to confront the idea that one of the remaining people in the house could be the murderer.

This book is good fun, but you do need to be able to suspend disbelief now and then (Helen is one of those heroines typical of this genre of book, who, despite knowing there’s a murderer on the loose, tries to open the front door every time someone knocks and spends most of the night wandering around the house on her own, along dark passageways and up and down dimly-lit staircases). Still, Ethel Lina White does a great job of creating an atmosphere of foreboding and fear, not just through stormy weather and shadows, but also through hints that various characters may not be as they seem. Is Lady Warren really unable to walk – and why does she have a gun in her room? And what if Nurse Barker isn’t really a nurse?

I found this a quick, entertaining read, let down slightly by the ending because the killer’s identity wasn’t particularly surprising and their motive was unconvincing. If you’re looking for a cleverly plotted mystery, I think you’ll be disappointed as I would describe this as much more of a psychological horror/suspense novel than a crime novel. It reminded me a lot of Benighted by J.B. Priestley and I think if you enjoyed one there’s a good chance you would enjoy the other. After finishing this book, I watched the film for the first time (it’s currently available on YouTube) and while it’s worth watching in its own right, I didn’t feel that it had much in common with the book!

Thanks to Pushkin Vertigo for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 8/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

These Wicked Devices by Matthew Plampin

I’ve only read one Matthew Plampin book – Mrs Whistler, about the life of Maud Franklin, the model and muse of the artist James McNeill Whistler – so I was intrigued by the description of his new one, which is set in an entirely different time and place. These Wicked Devices takes us to Rome in the summer of 1650 and introduces us to three separate characters whose stories become entwined in various ways.

First, we meet Sister Orsola, a Benedictine nun who has fled to Rome after the city of Castro, including the convent that was her home, was razed to the ground on the Pope’s orders. Orsola is accompanied by Sister Serafina, a choir nun who goes into trance-like states where she endlessly recites the lives of the saints. In the final hours before Castro’s destruction, the Mother Abbess had asked Orsola to protect Serafina and help her find another convent where she could live in safety. Orsola agreed, hoping that performing this task would help her to atone for the sin of giving birth to a child who died unbaptised.

Another thread of the novel follows Donna Olimpia Maidalchini, the most important woman in Rome. As the sister-in-law of Pope Innocent X, she is regarded as the real power behind the papal throne, involving herself in politics and the appointment of positions within the church. At the beginning of the novel, Donna Olimpia is negotiating with France to help a French invasion force seize the Kingdom of Naples from Spain.

Finally, we meet Juan de Pareja , newly arrived in Rome from Spain. Juan is an assistant and slave of the Spanish artist, Diego Velázquez, who hopes to paint a portrait of the Pope. When Juan discovers some secret papers hidden inside a metal statue, however, he suspects that there’s also another reason for their presence in Rome.

These three storylines alternate throughout the book, clearly marked with the Latin headings Sorores (sisters), Domina (mistress) and Servus (servant), to indicate whose perspective we’ll be reading from next. The three do merge together a lot, but I did find myself preferring one over the others – the one about Sisters Orsola and Serafina. There’s a real sense of danger as they are suspected of being heretics due to their connection with Castro and Orsola isn’t sure who can and can’t be trusted as she tries to carry out her promise to the Abbess. There was a lot to interest me in Juan de Pareja’s story as well – his relationship with his master, Diego Velázquez, his own ambitions of becoming an artist and his desire to live his life as a free man – but I found Donna Olimpia’s sections less engaging, maybe because she herself is much less likeable as a person.

Plampin creates a strong sense of time and place, with vivid descriptions of the piazzas, fountains, palazzi and churches of Rome as the city bakes in a late spring heatwave. I found the writing style quite dry, though, so for me this was an interesting read rather than an entertaining one. Still, it was good to add to my knowledge of a period in Rome’s history that I knew very little about.

Thanks to The Borough Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 7/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

Strange Houses by Uketsu

“I can’t tell you how many people have told me their scary house stories.

But none of them can compare to the houses in this story. These strange, strange houses.”

I loved Uketsu’s Strange Pictures when I read it earlier this year, so I was excited to see another of his books, Strange Houses, available on NetGalley. Like the first book, this one has been translated into English from the original Japanese by translator Jim Rion. Also like the first book, it contains a number of illustrations and diagrams that form an important part of the story.

The novel begins with our narrator, a freelance writer, being approached by his friend Yanaoka, who is searching for a suitable house in which he and his wife can raise their first child. Having viewed a house in a quiet residential area of Tokyo, Yanaoka and his wife have both fallen in love with it but are confused by the floor plan which shows a ‘dead space’ – in other words, a tiny hidden room with no doors. The narrator has another friend, Kurihara, who is an architect, so he decides to ask his opinion.

When Kurihara studies the floor plans, he picks up on several other unusual features of the house. These, together with the hidden room, lead him to form a bizarre but terrifyingly logical explanation for the design of the building. Yanaoka chooses not to buy it, but the narrator is intrigued and continues digging into the house’s history, uncovering connections with some other equally strange houses!

I really enjoyed the first half of this book, almost as much as Strange Pictures. It has a similarly interactive feel, where we are encouraged to look at the illustrations and identify the clues in them along with the narrator. Although Kurihara’s theory about the design of the Tokyo house seems ridiculously far-fetched, it does also make sense when you consider the layout of the rooms, the positions of doors and windows and the location of the house itself. I would never have imagined that floor plans could be creepy, but the ones in this book certainly are!

A difference between this book and Strange Pictures is that the other book is made up of several separate but interconnected stories, while this one consists of just one plot and one set of characters. The change in format means this book feels less varied and innovative, but it also allows us to follow the story of one family – the family who built the houses – through to the end. In the second half of the book, the focus moves away slightly from the plans and layouts and concentrates more on the history of the family. Things become quite convoluted, with complex relationships between the family members, rivalries between different branches and tales of curses and traditions going back several generations. I was reminded of Seishi Yokomizo’s mystery novels and I wonder if these, as well as Yukito Ayatsuji’s Bizarre House series, have influenced Uketsu.

In an interview, translator Jim Rion has talked about how Uketsu wants his writing to be easy to read and accessible to all readers and I think Rion has done a great job of keeping that same clarity in his translations. I’ve also discovered that a third book, Strange Buildings, is coming soon. Something to look forward to!

Thanks to Pushkin Vertigo for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 6/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Rush by Beth Lewis

I loved this! I’ve never read anything by Beth Lewis before, or even come across her, but this is one of my favourite books of the year so far. It’s set in Canada during the Gold Rush and follows the stories of three very different women whose paths cross in Dawson City in the Klondike.

The Rush begins with the arrival of Kate Kelly in Skaguay (now Skagway), Alaska, in 1898. Kate is there to meet up with the guide who is going to take her along the White Pass Trail, the route to Yukon and the Klondike goldfields. She needs to get there as quickly as possible because she has received a desperate plea for help from her sister, Charlotte, in Dawson City: This may be my last letter. He has finally found me and there is nowhere left to run.

In the little Klondike settlement of Boulder Creek, Ellen Rhodes spends her days alone in her cabin, cooking, cleaning and washing, while her husband, Charlie, goes down to the river and digs for gold that never appears. Ellen is sure they’re wasting their time and money, but Charlie refuses to give up on his dream. Finally, we meet Martha, owner of the Dawson Hotel, which doubles as the town’s brothel. Martha is fiercely proud of the business she has built up and is determined to keep it out of the hands of the ruthless Bill Mathers, who seems to be buying up the entire town.

The three women take turns to narrate the story, with the viewpoints rotating throughout the book. They are leading very separate lives at first, but are drawn together when one of Martha’s girls is found murdered. They’re also connected by a mysterious fortune teller who encounters all three of them and seems to have an uncanny ability to truly predict the future. There’s a mystery element to the novel as the women try to find out who the murder victim really is, who has killed her and why, but although this was intriguing and cleverly plotted, what I really loved was the setting and learning what it was like to be a woman in that fascinating but harsh environment where there were any number of natural and man-made disasters – an avalanche, a fire, an outbreak of typhoid – that could change everything in an instant.

I seem to read very few historical novels set in Canada, so I was pleased to have come across one with such a strong sense of place. The vivid descriptions made it easy for me to imagine the cabin by the river where Ellen and Charlie’s marriage falls apart, a victim to the obsessive fever that grabs hold of some human beings when gold is mentioned, and the streets of Dawson City where enterprising men and women like Martha have discovered that the real fortune is to be made not from mining but from the miners. But I particularly enjoyed following Kate’s journey from Alaska into Canada’s Yukon territory, a journey which includes a dramatic, exhilarating adventure crossing the dangerous White Horse Rapids.

I had assumed that the characters were entirely fictional, so I was surprised to read the author’s note at the end of the book and discover that many of them, including Kate, Ellen and Martha, are actually based loosely on real historical figures. This really is a fascinating book, in so many different ways, and I can’t recommend it highly enough.

Thanks to Viper for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 5/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

The Hounding by Xenobe Purvis

A lot of novels have been published recently dealing with the subject of witchcraft and witch trials, but The Hounding – Xenobe Purvis’ debut – is something different. Set in 18th century Oxfordshire, after the fervour for witch hunting has largely died down, it explores the dangers of being different in a small community where superstition is rife.

The five Mansfield sisters, who live with their blind grandfather on his farm, have become the subject of gossip in the village of Little Nettlebed. Their grandmother has recently died and the sisters are in mourning, but it seems that people have little sympathy for them. The Mansfields have always been seen as odd by the other villagers and since their grandmother’s death, a rumour has begun to spread that the girls have the power to turn themselves into dogs.

It’s Pete Darling, the drunken, misogynistic ferryman who starts the rumour after one of the girls refuses to speak to him, causing him to feel disrespected. As a summer heatwave descends on the village and the river begins to dry up, Pete’s trade is affected, giving him less to occupy his days and more time to drink. When he sees what he believes are the Mansfield sisters undergoing a strange transformation, it’s not quite clear what has actually happened. Has Pete had some kind of hallucination brought on by heat and alcohol? Is his own dislike of the girls causing him to see what he wants to see and conveniently giving him a way to punish them? Or are the sisters really turning into dogs in front of his eyes? Sadly, the girls are not popular in the village and other people are easily convinced that Pete’s story is true.

From calm, serious Anne, the eldest, down to little Mary, a solemn six-year-old – and in between pretty Elizabeth, shy, timid Grace and tomboyish Hester – the girls share a close bond and keep themselves to themselves, which leads to them being viewed as arrogant and unwelcoming. To Farmer Mansfield, however, they are his beloved granddaughters and he just wants them to be happy and safe. Other characters in the book also have their own views of the girls and these include newcomer Thomas Mildmay, who has been hired to help with the haymaking on the farm; the innkeeper’s wife, Temperance Shirly; and two local boys, Robin and Richard Wildgoose. The perspective we never really get is that of the sisters themselves, but seeing them through the eyes of others helps us to build up a picture of who the sisters really are and what they are like.

I found this a very atmospheric book; Purvis successfully creates a tense, almost claustrophobic feel through her descriptions of the relentless hot, dry weather and the small-mindedness of the villagers. A mixture of superstition, prejudice and fear of things they don’t understand makes the people of Little Nettlebed ready to think the worst of the Mansfield sisters and the girls don’t really do much to dispel these misconceptions because they do behave increasingly oddly when other people are around – almost as if becoming a dog is a safer option than being seen as different. I really enjoyed this fascinating and unusual novel!

Thanks to Hutchinson Heinemann for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

A Caribbean Mystery by Agatha Christie

This month for the Read Christie 2025 challenge, the theme is ‘amateurs’ and although I’ve read the suggested title, Crooked House, quite recently, there were some alternatives that I haven’t already read – including this one, A Caribbean Mystery. Published in 1964, it’s one of the later entries in the Miss Marple series and not one that had really appealed to me; Miss Marple belongs in St Mary Mead and it seemed incongruous to put her in a Caribbean setting! Now that I’ve read it, though, I can say that although it’s maybe not one of my absolute favourite Christie novels, I did really enjoy it.

You may be wondering why Miss Marple is in the Caribbean. Well, it seems she has been ill and her nephew Raymond has paid for her to spend some time recuperating in the sun on the island of St Honoré. Miss Marple is grateful, of course, and is enjoying the warmth and the scenery, but she’s also beginning to feel bored – every day is the same as the one before and nothing ever really seems to happen! This all changes when she falls into conversation with Major Palgrave, an elderly man staying at her hotel, who tells her a story about a man who got away with murder several times. He asks her if she wants to see a picture of a murderer but as he begins to dig out the snapshot, he suddenly stops abruptly and changes the subject as other people approach.

The next day, Major Palgrave is found dead in his room. High blood pressure is blamed, but Miss Marple is convinced he’s been murdered and that there’s some connection with the photo he was about to show her. To add to her suspicions, the photo now seems to have disappeared from the Major’s belongings. It seems likely that the murderer is one of the other guests, but which one? The most likely suspects seem to be the Dysons, Greg and Lucky, and their friends Edward and Evelyn Hillingdon, two nature loving couples who often travel together and who had been walking up the beach towards Major Palgrave as he told Miss Marple his story. But there are others who can’t be ruled out, including the Kendals, who own the hotel; Canon Prescott and his sister; and Mr Rafiel, an old man confined to a wheelchair, visiting the island with his masseur and his secretary.

I found this a very enjoyable mystery; it’s not one of Christie’s more complex plots but there’s some clever misdirection to send the reader along the wrong track. The first murder takes place early in the novel and the story continues to unfold at a steady pace after that, so it held my interest from beginning to end. Miss Marple also plays a big role, in contrast to some of the other books where we see very little of her. This time, she’s present for the entire novel, interacting with the suspects and victims and sharing her thoughts and deductions with the people she believes she can trust. As usual, people underestimate Miss Marple, dismissing her as a ‘fluffy old lady’, but in time some of them come to see that there’s far more to her than meets the eye!

Some of the characters in this book reappear or are referred to again in the later novel Nemesis, published in 1971. I read that one a few years ago, so it was nice to see how those characters were originally introduced and how Miss Marple gained her nickname ‘Nemesis’. I should probably have read the two books in the correct order as it also meant that I could quickly discount those two recurring characters as serious suspects, but it didn’t really matter. Now I’m looking forward to reading Christie’s memoir Come, Tell Me How You Live for Read Christie in July!

Book 4/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.

A Schooling in Murder by Andrew Taylor

I love Andrew Taylor’s books and over the last few years I’ve been enjoying his Marwood and Lovett series, set in the 17th century in the aftermath of the Great Fire of London. His new novel, A Schooling in Murder, is not part of the series and leaves that setting behind entirely, taking us instead to the 1940s and a girls’ school near the border of England and Wales.

The novel has a very unusual narrator and when I sat down to write this review I wondered if it would be possible to avoid giving away too much about her. However, the publisher’s own blurb reveals her secret, as do most of the other reviews I’ve seen (and to be fair, she tells us herself in the first chapter anyway): Annabel Warnock is a ghost. In life, she was a teacher at Monkshill Park School for Girls, until being pushed into the river from the Maiden’s Leap, a clifftop viewing point on the Gothick Walk, part of the school grounds. Who pushed her? Annabel doesn’t know, but she’s determined to find out.

As a ghost, Annabel is able to move freely around Monkshill Park – although places she never visited while alive are inaccessible to her – but she can’t be seen or heard by anyone else. This naturally makes investigating her murder very difficult, especially as her colleagues don’t even know she’s dead since her body was never washed up. It seems that the only person who can help is Alec Shaw, Annabel’s replacement – referred to simply as a ‘Visiting Tutor’ to appease parents worried about the school employing a man to teach their girls. Although she can’t speak directly to Alec, Annabel finds a very imaginative way to communicate with him, which was one of my favourite aspects of the book!

As well as the mystery element of the book, we also learn a lot about life in a 1940s girls’ boarding school. Andrew Taylor does a good job of portraying the rivalries and complex relationships that form when groups of teenage girls – and groups of teachers – are living together in a close-knit community. There are occasional references to the war, which is in its closing stages as the book begins in May 1945, but Monkshill Park feels largely sheltered from the outside world, so although the war touches the lives of the characters in various ways it doesn’t form a big part of the story.

The descriptions of the school and its landscape are very detailed, so I was interested to read in Taylor’s author’s note that he based it on Piercefield, a now ruined house and estate near Chepstow in Wales, and that in its fictional guise of Monkshill Park it also formed the setting for his earlier novel, The American Boy. I should have remembered that as The American Boy is my favourite of all the Andrew Taylor books I’ve read!

Although it was interesting to watch a victim trying to solve their own murder, I felt that there was a distance between the characters and the reader, which I suppose is inevitable when your narrator can only watch and observe rather than interact directly with the people around her. Maybe because we’re only seeing them from Annabel’s unique perspective, most of the characters also seem particularly unpleasant! Possibly for these reasons, I didn’t enjoy this quite as much as some of Taylor’s other books, but it was imaginative and different and I’m looking forward to whatever he writes next.

Thanks to Hemlock Press for providing a copy of this book for review via NetGalley.

Book 3/20 for 20 Books of Summer 2025.